Lost

Things happen in life that you don't expect. People dart in and out of your cast of characters. Plot lines change. The beautifully tangential nature of merely existing rarely ceases to amaze. But when one finds herself at a crossroads, unsure and alone, how does she choose? Now obviously alone is a relative term. Technically, I'm not lost on an island miles away from civilization. But in the core of my heart there currently lays a gap. Not a void. Saying that I am void is inferring that something is missing. Its not. I feel now, more than ever before, a wholeness. A oneness. My time is occupied happily. I love and am loved. I am of service. Yet here sits my gap. Standing before me is a vast valley. Not just two or three paths lay wait, but thousands. I'm sure that some karmic force helps to ensure particular pairings. The catalysts in life that assist in the propelling forward of my tale. But the rest is left to me. I've spent many a long and strenuous hour attempting to avoid these choices. Placating my childish whimsy has served me well thus far. There are hundreds of fantastical stories, memories; the things that fill the pages of the biography I'm writing in my heart. Honestly, I wouldn't trade a one of them! But alas, their time is ending. No longer are days spent idled, waiting to begin. Before me lay choices. The choices that will determine the rest of my days. This is an ominous task, the deciding. Part of me, the child, wants to glide blissfully along certain that all will be well despite my efforts.(Or more honestly, my lack there of.) While the other part of me, the prideful adolescent vying for grownuphood, knows that the work must be done to ensure that my future is one worth striving towards.... There are great tasks before me. Exciting, terrifying, brilliant tasks. Through the fog of confusion I beg little of the powers that be. I pray for strength. The strength to face the tough choices with my boots on, and stomp them, ever so gently away. I pray for clarity. The ability to discern the righteous path from the path of ego and pride. Further still, I pray for peace. I hope to be sitting on a porch one day, surrounded with life's blessings, and to be filled with a surety, a contentment, a knowing that the choice I've made were the right ones .... Wish me luck! I'm gonna need it.

Family.

What is a family? Is it some nuclear unit consisting of a Mommy and Daddy and 2.5 kids plus dog and an SUV? I think not. In my few short years, my many travels, and all throughout the lessons learned, my family has grown and molded itself into a strange brew at best. I am blessed with many mothers. Women with whom I have crossed paths with. Women who, for however briefly a time, have helped to shape me into the person I am today. I have met men who have protected me, cherished me as greatly as they would their own flesh and blood. I have made friends, be it originally or secondarily through somebody else, with whom the bonds are stronger than blood. People who I would die to protect. People who would do the same for me. I have children who I did not grow in my belly, but who look to me as their protector. The ebb and flow of this curious dance of life always keeps me on my toes. Very recently, I was shown a path that I hadn't planned on. There was someone which I was certain would be part of my life forever. Sometimes who I became so close to that I couldn't imagine a day passing without them in it. Then, one day, we parted. It wasn't easy. It definitely wasn't pretty. But it is EXACTLY what it should be. This one person may not have fulfilled the roll in my life I once thought they would, but they did me one better. He acted as a catalyst. He showed me things I'd never have seen. Taught me to appreciate things that I never thought I could. But what's more, he made my family grow. (NO he didn't knock me up!) Without the time we spent together I would not have met dozens of people who I now know as friends. Better still, I wouldn't know people who are now my family. It is a rag tag bunch. There's a crazy hippy lady who owns a coffee shop in the woods up north. There's a tattoo artist in New York. A marine in Texas. A street musician down the street. A child who called me mamma. A computer programmer in Vegas. Even a carpenter in Manchester. These people may not be blood, but when I hurt they comfort me. When I become discouraged, they encourage me. When I celebrate they are there to share my joy. Removing any one person from this web would be like losing a brother, a sister, like losing blood. Without them my life would be lacking. Though I know not what the future holds, how long I will be blessed with knowing them, what I know for sure is this: Sometimes, water IS thicker than blood. And for that, I am sincerely grateful.

time to let go, ans start over.

messy messy messy. there are countless reasons, explanations  and excuses i could give for the current state of my body, mind, and overall well being. i could tell you my sad story of internal struggle.
i could tell you all about how and why i ended up as depressed as i had been for the last three years.
i could blame, point fingers, and skirt responsibility... cuz believe you me, there are plenty of valid reasons that things are the way they are.... or where! but im not going to do that. very plainly, all i am willing to say is that i made mistakes that affected me both mentally and physically and now its time for recovery. this is going to be the most challenging course of action ive yet to take. the actual work really isnt all that difficult. with a little bit of will power going to the gym is no big thing. for me, thr trouble is the realization of how far away from my former self ive let myself go. part of it couldnt be helped . surgery, injuries, and so on. but knowing what i used to be capable of, and knowing that im nowhere near that same level of ability now is a jagged pill to swallow. it woulds the pride, and scars the ego. i USED to do 1500 crunches A DAY. now, i can average about 100 before i hurt. my incision stings and burns and i just cant go on. it makes me feel weak. it makes me feel ugly. it makes me feel ashamed. what i need to do is continue to remind myself that i am no longer the girl i was three years ago. not physically, and certainly not mentally. i need to remind myself that i am a new girl. with every passing day and every ounce of progress, i am being reborn. i am molding myself into the person i am now. i an sure that at some point during this journey, i will become discouraged. the changes wont happen as quickly as id like them to, my ability wont grow as fast as i feel it should. but through that discouragement i foresee a lesson learned. every day that i feel low will serve as a reminder as to why i need to continue to persevere. why i need to never allow myself to wallow as lowly as i have been for the last three years. the tao teaches us to  " Deal with difficulties while they are still easy.
Hand the great while it is still small. 
The difficult problems in life
Always start off being simple.
Great affairs always start off being small.
Therefore the sage never deals with the great
And is able to actualize his greatness. " 
i let my problems become so big that the thought of resolving them in and of itself was able to invoke fear and hopelessness. with each passing day i will use that sadness to remind me to be in action. and to NEVER AGAIN allow my problems to grow larger than me. Day 1. wish me luck! nah, fuck that. wish me strength!

Drowning ...

So theres this flood. There's a man and his dog on a rooftop. A boat floats by and offers the man rescue but he loudly proclaims that his god will protect and save him as he shoes the boat away. Then a helicopter comes, same thing. The man clings stubbornly to his rooftop, and his belief that he will be saved without the help of the passers by. Then comes a man with a canoe, the dog swims to safety and the man is left alone, drowning. Once in heaven the man asks god why he was not saved, god laughs at the silly, stubborn man and reminds him of the boat, helicopter, and canoe....  sometimes we loose sight of the forest for the trees. Sometimes we have to let go of people in our lives because they are too daft to appreciate us being there. Today is one of those days for me. It hurts. Maybe nobody explained to him that if you neglect a woman physically, and toy with her emotionally, that though she may tolerate it for a time in hopes that you will pull your head out of your ass and acknowledged how awesome she is and how important she is in your life and everything that she could offer you and and and.... breath .... breath .... though she may wait in hope for a while, eventually that hope will be dashed. And she will go. You can only push people so far before they stop trying to come back. I'm done trying to break through walls only to find new walls. Im tired. I give up. Moving on. Maybe next time you should get into the blasted boat dumbass.

It's a Gamble

I've never been much the gambling sort.... When I have money in my pocket I usually prefer to sped it on a yummy dinner with friends, or something shiny that'll lats me a long long time :) I am cautious and logical with my money... but unfortunately, I'm not talking about craps or blackjack. This my dear friends, is a wager of the heart. Now for those of you who know me (more specifically those of you who know me well) you're privy to the fact that I tend to be an "all or nothing' kinda gal. When it cones to love I jump in both feet first and my eyes closed. I can attest that though it be an exciting path, it is also one rattled with pain. The broken heart and I are old drinking buddies. So why would a reasonably intelligent women make such poor decisions in the way of love when she knows full well how it'll turn out in the end?! Simple really, its safer. I  choose to engage in bad relationships, with piss poor partners because after the dust settles, and the superficial pain goes away, I'm left with a few fundamental truths; 1) Logically, I knew that it was destined to fail, so I'm not really at any loss. 2) Since we weren't a proper match anyhow it makes sense that it be over. 3)  He was "more" screwed up than I was so its not my fault that it ended... "I tried, he didn't." And so on and so on... WHY?! Why would I delve into a relationship that I knew to be doomed from the start? Oh yeah, right, CAUSE THEN I DON'T ACTUALLY HAVE TO FOLLOW THROUGH! It leaves open a door for a fast escape. A clean get away. An end to all accountability. Again, WHY?!  The answer, because I'm a giant chickenshit. There it is ladies and gents, the truest of truths, I am a big fat fucking coward. I engage in bad relationships, with people who I know are poor matches because I'm absolutely terrified that if I really did give it my all, I would fail. I would take big love and turn it into rubbish with daily doses of self doubt, low self esteem, and an overwhelming idea that I don't deserve good things.... Why in God's name am I telling you people this? Answer, because I don't wanna do it any more. About a year ago I split from one of these doomed from the start guys. it was bad all the way around. We were together for three years and by the end I was tired, a bit broken, and had no desire what so ever to be with anyone ever again. Then boom. I met a guy who flipped my lid. After one night I was was done. I don't wanna fuck it up but I find myself starting arguments because I get scared when I'm happy. I have two voices playing in my mind, both with conflicting arguments: One tells me that hes too good for me, too cute, too smart, too kind, too handsome. that he'd be better off with someone better. That he deserves someone better. The other voice tells me that we were brought together for a reason. That the joy he whelms in my heart is something to be cherished, to be grateful for.  Obviously there are other factors, he's no saint and he's got his own set of difficulties. But we started this mess in October and it's June and he's still standing by my side. It's terrifying. I see myself wanting things with him, not from him. He challenges me to be better. Not because he ever has or ever would say that to me, but because when I'm with him I feel strong, capable, and willing. So now, if I may implore you kind readers, why in the world would i sabotage something so great? Answer, fear. Fear that I'll give him all of me and that he wont want it. That I'll open my heart, he'll walk in, take a look and run for the hills. Then again, it is June, and he's not run yet. (well, he ran a little, but he came back) I know in a previous post I mentioned investments and the concept of risk versus reward. I guess I'm at the place where I have to decide if the risk of getting hurt will be worth the benefit to reaped if things work out.  I feel like he may be the happy ending I've been waiting for. Or better, the happy beginning. So I guess all I need to do now is roll the dice and shut the hell up. It's good today, it was good yesterday, and God willing it'll be good tomorrow.... I need to remind myself that love is a marathon, not a sprint. I need to open my eyes and see the beauty of what is. And lastly I need to not miss the forest for the trees. And now, I shut up and smile <3

an interesting analogy...

a very dear friend and i were engaged in a supremely serious conversation about relationships. he, being an economist, made a statement comparing  love to  a bell curve. he said that there was nowhere to go but down. love grows and rises to a point, then peaks for a time, leaving the next phase to inevitably be a decline. a decline that continues until the love is gone and buried, or at best, no longer worth sticking around for... i found his musing rather bleak. it saddened me. i, being stuck in my 1950's time warp mentality on love and marriage and all related items found this fatalistic thought process disturbing. i am not an economist. im in investment banking. (or was) more specifically, i peddled penny stocks. if anyone knows how to deduce the value of a return, its me.
i know how to analyze the bubble. how to separate all factors of a situation and individually assign them cause and value. i told him that i don't like bell curves or his harsh analogy. i told him to look at love like a stock option. if you buy your shares at a dollar and they spike to $10 then settle back around $7, you're still a helluva lot better at $7 then you were at $1. he rebutted with a question. "what if it settles at $1.50?" my response was simple, evaluate. if you really think hard, analyze, research and truly believe that your stock wont rise any higher than that ever again, then you do what any rookie broker would do and dump the stock. you've still made a small profit and have put yourself in a position to not suffer any further losses. but if after all of your extensive research, there is even the slightest inkling that your shares may rise again, hold. the last thing you want is to dump your stock at $1.50 only to have it shoot back up to $10 in a few weeks. what could you have done with all that money? how hard would you kick yourself? Love is a gamble but it isn't as scary as some people make it out to be. when its right, its right and you'll know it. it doesn't mean that your stock wont peak and valley, it most certainly will. nobody said anything about this shit being easy. but at the end of the day, when all is said and done, if you see the potential for a high return, buy. people nowadays are so quick to say 'oh its hard i quit' people are too skittish now. they see a drop in value and they run for the hills. so few stick around long enough to see the true value of their full return. so i implore you, wholeheartedly, please close your eyes and look ahead. look forward to a time of peace and prosperity in your own life, and if any part of you can see the potential joy that will arise from keeping her there, then do it. you don't wanna be the fool that missed the bubble do you?

Back to basics.

Dreams. Wishes. Desires. Once upon a time, a long long time ago, i had a dream. Then life happened. The all encompassing, messy junk that is life. Through the disappointments and scars, the changes and growth I did what most people do. I let my dreams go. I convinced myself that those silly things that I had once longed for weren't possible. Or worse, not what i wanted. Or sadder still, not what i really wanted... Lies. Though I might not want to be a ballerina anymore, the realistic hopes and goals still dwell somewhere in my heart. What i once glanced upon with regret, I now see just off the horizon... Who of we 'Grown Ups' have not let a dream drift away? We convince ourselves that we are being logical in our changes of heart. We forget. We stop being true to ourselves. The child in me is screaming. She wants me to push forward, kicking and fighting, until my heart is satisfied. I am so lucky to have the opportunity to take the time necessary for me to grow and settle and learn. Now darnit I'm ready to make these dreams real... I deserve the happiness my heart desires. Oh yeah, so do you. Let's get it!  Semper Veritas friends. Always be true to your hearts.

Black and White...

and shades of Gray. I find myself in a very challenging position. As of late, the strings of my heart are being pulled quite hard by a certain someone. This situation is anything but usual for me. When it comes to relationships I'm the sort who'll jump in to the deep end with both feet first and my eyes shut.  This blissful, silliness is more often than not met with disaster very quickly. When you rush into Love two things happen... the whirlwind of emotion tends to seed, swell, and dwindle at rocket speed leaving both parties drained and used and empty by the end. and secondly, you deprive yourselves of knowing one another. As i grow older I am beginning to understand that love is in the details. It isn't as simple as some strange chemical thing that gives you butterflies. Its the glue that holds you together through the shitstorm that is the day to day. It is a conscious, logical choice to do right by one another, and a genuine, heartfelt concern for another over yourself.  Today i sat at a fountain in the middle of town and watched a pair of ducks. They were a mated pair. It was wonderful to watch them. the female had settles in, she was not being moved by the current of the water.  she was stable and still and sleeping. the male on the other hand was not so lucky. the water would sway him. he would bury his head and try to sleep, then realizing he had drifted away from his mate would scurry back to her. he would nestle in and begin to slumber only to awaken again and again in a panic at not being near her. But alas, she was still. he could scurry and flutter and fight to be near her, but for what? why did he exert all of that extra effort. she was still. she would not leave him, she would sleep and wake near him. so why did he feel the need to keep rushing back? obviously i'm projecting my own neurosis on these poor unassuming duckies. the worry of loosing this puller of strings, and my scurrying. but why? he is still. i don't know if he will be here tomorrow, bit i know that for today, he is still. and i don't need to jump in, i can choose to move forward. this is all quite new for me. i've never felt like this before. i have loved. i have been loved. but it has never felt like this. this just seems to make sense. whatever it is, wherever it may take me, i have solace in the stillness of today. maybe, if i'm lucky, with a little bit of patience and a little bit of time, i too can learn to be still. maybe, just maybe, these pretty shades of gray and black and white will keep my heart aflutter. or better yet, still.

The Golden Calf

Is there such a thing as knowing too much about someone? Does familiarity truly breed contempt?
I have always had a bit of a struggle with judgment. Now don't get me wrong, im not the type of person who wil pass opinions as fact. Im certainly not the type to harbor ill will or hold grudges either. What i suppose i mean is, that though i find myself in the rhelm of forward thinkers, i still hold certain 'thruths' for myself and my interactions. Some of these truths are based on my moral standing, some on my ethics, and the lot im least proud of, my ignorance and lack of understanding. Now one particular thing that i feel very strongly about is the usage of drugs and alcohol. I see them as an unnecessary faction of existence. I see their use as a crutch for the weak of heart. A bandaid on the ache of the day. Or even a cheatsheet of sorts for the socially inept. I am fully aware that this is a highly unpopular opinion. I am not innocent. In fact, i am a repeat offender. I'll just say that I'm a friend of Bill. If you know, you know. If you don't, kindly read on. I as an individual tend to gravitate towards strong people. I choose to interact with those who i respect. I seek kinship from only those who i see as enlightened, and wise. Proud people. People i wish to emulate. After all, association brings upon assimilation.  So what does one do when one of these chosen brethren shows a side that i am not particularly fond of? More specifically, when someone to whom I've lended the utmost respect and adoration informs me of fault i had not yet been privy to, does that no longer entitle them to my aforementioned adoration?!  Are they still not kind? Are they still not wise? Do they still not love me just the same as they did before? The answers are yes yes and of course. Yet why then do i find it harder to see them in the glowing light of yesterday? From before this unhappy news befell my wounded ears. Should I allow such a trivial thing to degrade the purity of my caring? Ummm i think not. Logically i know that no man is a golden calf to be haplessly respected. So why the disappointment when I'm simply reminded of their humanity? Am i so daft as to expect perfection or am i simply caught off guard when those i care for are not quite what I'd thought them to be... Again, does it matter?  No. They are still just as strong, wise, kind, and loving. And i am still just an enthralled...  just maybe a tad more cautious than i once was. After all is said and done, i believe that the assimilation bit is what gets me. I mean, if they can be great but broken, and my association will inevitably lead to my adaptation of their traits both positive and negative, where does one draw the line of acceptability? Is there a fucking line? I'm beginning not to think so. Maybe my truths are all just folly. Maybe life is comprised not of black and white, but shades of gray...  and oh how colorful gray can be...

Occupational Hazard

1) We are The People. 2)We are united... But are we? In every event involving proud, passionate people there will be volatile interaction. Where voices strive to be heard will there not always be few who shout louder than their comrades? Of course there will be! We are strong as individuals and as a unit standing in Solidarity we have the potential to be unstoppable. That is if we can get out of our own way. I am now, and have always been, and observer. And what i see at this juncture in our occupation is trouble. This is no longer a movement about the banks, or money in government. Although we still strive for change in these areas we have come to a precipice far larger and greater than just that. I believe that the Occupy Movement is one  capable of being all inclusive of any and every issue that has the capability to enhance our way of life as a world, not city, county, state or country, but world. Where one individual may place weight with labor another may place weight with gender inequality. Where one cries at the thought of war another may cry at the thought of animals being poorly treated. No one issue holds more value, or higher stature than the next. These are all problems of the masses. And we folks, are the masses. This trouble that i speak of lies within two houses; The house of ego and the house of diplomacy. Though i say two houses i really feel that they are one in the same. We are a passionate and proud lot. We are warriors in a new time forging forth for the betterment of our world and dammit we want to be heard now! But who of us are ready to listen? who of  us are ready to open our hearts to those we may see as difficult and love them into a new way of being? Im sure all will say "I" but i have seen that fewer will be ready to act. We as people stating loudly that  we are here to forge a new way seem to have difficulty letting go of the old way ourselves. When we see our brethren falter with either their behavior or their method should we not love him more for his fault? Should we not strive harder to show him the new way? Should he be abandoned? Though our ego may tell us that our rightness in the matter hold more bearing, should not our hearts remind us that we all make mistakes? I know that those who shout with anger at the misguided would beg forgiveness if the tables were turned. But our egos push and shove and devalue the unpopular insight or crass nature of another when offended. When we are the offending party we always seem to be a bit less slighted do we not? An eye for an eye leaves us both blind. If we stand to be the new world, if we strive to live a new way then we must open ourselves to forgiveness. We must demonstrate the values that we preach. We must let go the past and hold no grudges. If one cannot be spoken to in the correct manner then the speech will not be heard. In this occurrence i feel that it not be the fault of the ears, but the fault of the mouths. In order to speak rightly we must place aside our person. I as Davina have no business addressing You as Bill if we stand for unified cause. We must lay to rest our vendetta and address one another as one Occupier in Solidarity for a unified cause to another of the same beast. Until we do that folks, until we learn to live and breath the diplomacy we beg of our counterparts, we will continue to waver. We will continue to bicker like children. We will continue to weaken ourselves..... so cut the shit and stand together already!!! We is always bigger than Me. So let us act Our size.

how quickly we forget...

oh how quickly we loose ourselves in routine. we grow complacent and tired. we get cranky, we complain. we silly humans allow the jonses to tell us what to buy, the opposite sex to tell us how to feel about sexuality and/or sexyness, and our mirrors to dictate what we see in ourselves. we spend our days looking forward instead of around us. we miss the beauty of the day by distracting ourselves with tomorrow.  but what happens if there is no tomorrow? if you knew that this day would be your last what would you do? who would you call? who would you make love to? whos face would you see when you closed your eyes for the last time? would you stare up at the clouds, or wander the beach? would you wander the park with your dog or have one last dinner with your family? its a double edged sward the concept of knowing we are going to go.... i suppose the moral of this musing is this, do not be afraid. start a conversation with the hot guy at the coffee shop. ask the pretty girl for her number. play fetch with your dog. smoke. tell everyone you love them and mean it. forgive those who have wronged  you. apologize to those you have harmed. laugh. live each day as the simple blessing it be. just be. live each day with a pure heart, and a tenderness of soul. be compassionate. i may or may not know you, we may never meet or we may see each other often, i may never know your name who you are or what youre all about, but i love you. please, i beg you live before you cant.

The End Of An Era...

The Beginning Of The Next Life. As anyone who's ever gone through a bad break-up can tell you, it takes time, support, and a whole lotta love from friends and family to truly move on.But what do you do when you have all of those things, and you still just cant move on? How does one "Move On"... When I was very very young i met a boy. He was the prettiest boy I'd ever seen up close. He had a mowhawk and the most perfect blue eyes with little yellow sunflowers in them. I loved him. We were together for a year, and then it ended as most youthful romances do. It was a decision made for logistical purposes, partnered by family pressure. It didn't matter why, it was over, and i was not ready for it to be. It took me about 6 months to go out on another date, and over a year before i stopped crying over the loss of him. What i felt for him was as true a love as there had ever been, twice as strong, and it was not going to go quietly away. Every guy i dated after him was somehow compared to him in my mind. Be it subtle similarities, or overtly shared traits, this man was the measuring stick to which i ruled upon all others. It stayed that way for the better part of a decade. Now I do realize that this is not exactly normal, and it most defiantly isn't healthy. But regardless, it was the way i did things.... desperately clinging to the memory of something that was trying to relive or re-kindle it. Now in my defense, it wasnt a straight ten years of nostalgia. He made the occasional re-appearance into my life, staying just long enough to remind me why i loved him so, then leaving again and reminding me of all the sadness and void that there once was renewed and stronger than ever. Not only bad came from our to and fro dance of in and out of love. He is responsible for the life of my son.   He gave me the most valuable gift that ever was, and i will always love him for that. Last week, keeping in step with our annual waltz, he and i got together for dinner. Though the familiarity he lends is always a comfort, the spark that i was sure would never die had simply fizzled away. The traits i once found enthralling now rubbed me like a poorly cared for wool sweater.The eyes were the same, still magnetic and enticing, but the tingles in the pit of my stomach were simply gone. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN!? What on earth had changed so drastically?! In short, me. I just wasnt that girl anymore. Not long ago, while i was in a place of contentment within myself, i was lucky enough to meet someone that evoked in me all of the love that i had thought lost.  He reminded me nothing of this mythical character from my memories. He, standing next to my measuring stick, overpowered it. It was a chance meeting at least, and a turn of fate at best. I was in Santa Ana staying yet another long, cold night at the Occupy. The others had all decided to go off and gallivant through town, leaving only myself, and one other hold down the fort. Then my life changed. A tall, well built man approached the site. He had a harsh expression of skepticism and an attitude that reeked of ego. In a stern, but soft voice he stated simply "I've got questions." My counterpart, wishing to go and join in the festivities wit the others quickly pointed to me and remarked "Talk to her." being in a somewhat foul mood i was all the ready for the debate that this individual was looking to get into. My gun was cocked and loaded with all of the knowledge i needed to respond to all of his questions, and argue all of his doubts away. There's really nothing like a good debate when you're having a bad day. It allows one to expel their tension while stimulating the mind enough to get those endorphins going...thus turning that frown, upside-down haha. We commenced. It was the most beautiful debate i had ever participated in. It was like a dance. Each persons argument flowing seamlessly with the next, each word foreplay. The next thing i new an hour had passed. He decided to stay. The others eventually returned and he melded into the group like he had been there for ages... fast forward to today... My phone rang early which woke me from the sound sleep i had been in. I received some good news and decided to share it with my handsome debate partner from earlier in my tale. He stopped over to see me. The tingly feelings are stronger today than they have ever been. The kisses sweeter and still potent enough to steal my breath. When he kisses me i go weak in the knees and my mind becomes fuzzy. I'm dizzy. There is a calm comfort when im with him. The gentle way he holds me rivals the warmest of blankets. We laugh until our cheeks sting and our bellies hurt. he has helped me to see the good in myself. When he looks at me he does so with such intensity that i fell as though i am the only girl in his world. He is everything i ever wanted in a partner. Oh how silly was i to hold onto the past for so long.... Oh how lucky am i that i chose to release it just in time. Its funny how things work out. I;m happy that the old era gave me all of the joy and pain that it did. It helped to shape me into the person i am today. The person that is the perfect match, for my perfect match.... this new chapter looks to be a promising one. 

An Interesting Predicament.

Have you ever prayed for something so hard that you begged the heavens? You just knew that if the powers that be granted your wish that all would be right with the world. Your dreams would all come true and you would be blessed with the proverbial Happily Ever After. You know that if things went your way you could be happy. And then they dont. Your wish goes ungranted, your prayer unanswered,  your dream is only that. Its funny though isnt it? you spend so much energy being so certain of something that never was... or that could not be. After a while, something strange begins to occur. your thoughts shift, your wishes take on new form, and your life actually goes on! you manage to find a way to move past the nagging could be's and shoulda beens. you put on your big girl panties and you move on. well, usually. i had a wish once, i knew if it came true that all would be right with the world  and i too could be truly happy. i spent years agonizing over what was, what wasnt, and worst, what went wrong. this particular problem was a reoccurring one. the universe continually allowed me to be placed in a position to clearly see the lack of 'moving on' that had taken place. i was the same, i loved just as strongly as i ever had that wish i once made. i spun and floundered and tossed about lost and lacking yearning for this dream to come true. and then, once i had accepted that i was fated to be left unfulfilled, something happened that was stranger still; the dynamic had shifted just so, that i was the one freed of wanting, and the wish desired me. i had grown. my wishes had taken on new form, and i no longer prayed for the silly plot line i once had. i came to a place of contentment. of peace. of closure. the dream was not as shiny as id remembered it. the details, though familiar, just no longer quite felt like home. i dwell in a new dream now. one far more beautiful than anything i had once thought possible, let alone deserved. and oh how disappointed i would be today had i been strapped down to the tarnished brass story i had so long clung to. the glow of what lies ahead wouldnt be available for capture had i remained bogged with the weight of the past. time to move forward...life is waiting.

Home.

What makes a home? Is it the walls, or the portraits on them? Is it the town or the people in it? It's all subjective really. That old saying Home Is Where The Heart Is comes to mind. But what does it really mean? For me, It's quite simple. My home lies in my memories. It's not so much a place, but a place in time. Home is the gray couch coushion that i used to build my fort. Home is the white stuffed bunny with the soft pink nose. Home is the rush i felt with our first kiss and the sadness i still feel knowing that we won't share more of them. It is the pulse of my subconscious. The images i see when I close my eyes and the lacking i feel with their fading away as i open them. Being someone who has moved around alot, state to state, city to city, i find it challenging growing attached to a house. It has always seemed a tad bit unnecessary to me. Im not saying I don't understand why certain people lend so much weight and value to a house. Now that i own one ive gathered that It's the idea of this house that i love.  the fantasy of it. closing my eyes and envisioning a family, and a future. growing old here. but if it were to burn down tomorrow, though i would be sad for my lost things, i would not be homeless. i dont believe that someone who is loved can be homeless. ive had my fair share of sleeping outside. on couches. in storage units. etc. but i have never been homeless. i have been a traveler. every city ive stayed i has been my home. every bush in which i laid was my house. every other traveler my family.i had no issue leaving and starting anew elsewhere. when i got to laguna i felt something a tad bit different. there were people there who i grew to love. i grew to love them so much that i chose to stay there. i made real friends. had real relationships. i grew. ive found that as i grew and changed and matured in that city the attachment for the place grew stronger. it wasnt the beach or even the people, it was the memories that i was forming. the life that i had there..the day that cowboy died i think is the day that i lost the will to stay.i knew it would never be the same. that followed by the end of the three year relationship i had in that city made me not want to go back. i would go weeks without going into town, then months.

this brings me to part 2. You Can't Go Home Again. I was in Laguna on friday. Hugging old friends, walking old haunts, and reminiscing. I had a great day but it just wasn't quite the same. In fact, it was almost disappointing. The beauty of that place lives in my head. Every time i go back and don't see Rich and Jared and Brock and.Paul and Frankie on the sand on a blanket: every time i pass by my old place. When i sit on the. Patio of Starbucks and there's not a familiar face in sight, i am reminded that this place is no longer mine. A new crew will now take over the territory and we have all been scattered to the wind to follow our own paths. But while i sit in bed in my new city, and think back on the place that added so many perfect chapters to my story, it still feels like home. No more my home than the house in which i now dwell, but certainly no less. so i guess i was wrong about part 2. you can go home again, even if only in your mind.

stuck

for the last three days ive been trying to write a piece on Home. im having a bit of trouble. im not sure whether its the concept itself that has me at a stalemate, or the fact that ive got far more pressing issues reeling in my mind and taking up too much space to allow others to form. its probably the later. i recently went through a very wrenching breakup. he was the kind of man that made me have faith in men again. he didnt always say or do the right thing, in fact, more often than not he said the wrong thing. it wasnt that he looked good, or smelled good(which he did. very good.) it wasnt the cheesy grin when he told a bad joke or the hard persona covering a marshmellow core. it was the whole of him. it was the way he looked at me when he was leaving in the morning. the way he held me. the way he kissed me. when he kissed me my whole world stopped. i grew dizzy and weak in the knees. it was the plans that we had made together. it was the child that we wanted to raise together. i have truly loved two men. ive had relationships with far more than two, but i never felt what i felt for the two. the first was when i was 16. he was my world, and i dont think i will ever really get over him. the second came as a shock to say the least. i had reached a place where i had decided that i was done with love. i didnt want to fall i love any more, every again. i was content with the idea of being alone. then he came.  he was a shot of life. he made my brain tingle. he was smart, sweet and sexy. he was everything id ever wanted in a man, lest the awful taste in music. he wasnt perfect. he was perfectly imperfect. and i love him. our love was real. and strong and true. it was the thing movies are made of, and novels written about. it ended because it had to not because we wanted it to. the lives wed lived before each other were not about to allow us to leave them to start again. circumstances being what they were we knew we had to part. i have never felt so empty. but even though i dont get to be with him now, there is a big part of me that thinks one day we will be whole again. until then, ill have to forge forth through the pain. the haze of lacking that has become my day to day. until then, i will live this half life. a body without a heart. a mind stuck elsewhere...

Its Better To Have Loved And Lost....

Than Never To Have Loved At All.... Ive been hearing that quote for as long as i can remember. In fact, im almost certain that everyone everywhere has heard some version or another of it at least once in their lives. Its the go to guy when someone you know is hurting after some form of romantic loss. The beauty of its simplicity and hope never seems to let me down. Be it loss from death, breakup, a nonreciprocating crush, or whatever else may be plaguing your heartstrings, this quote is all inclusive. I know as one who has used it in a sad attempt to comfort friends and loved ones, that the intention when saying it is pure. I just want to let you know that in time, everything will be ok again and that this pain will pass. But when on the receiving end of this gesture, it rings through the ears like nails on a chalk board. The first response that comes to mind when im the one being 'comforted' is "Oh Yeah? TRY IT!" The audacity! Do you have any idea how bad this hurts?! Unfortunately most people do know how it feels to be brokenhearted. This sad state we all live in nowadays is not what one would call cohesive for the blooming bud of romantic love. This is a time of instant gratification. A time where a shiny new toy is always better than a comfortable old shoe. And lets face it, the sparks only go so far before youre left with the reality of the person youre with. But when you are lucky enough to push through the throng of bullshit working against romantic joy, and you find somebody who works with your mind body heart and soul, it finally feels like all is right with the world. Then you loose them. Thats when things really get tough. It feels like youve lost a limb. The air becomes too dense to breath into your lungs, it feels like youre drowning. Time both speeds up and stops all together. Your heart is physically pained. Existence as you know it has been halted and you are left haunted by sinister questions like what now? what went wrong? and the dreaded why? In this rush and flurry of emotion that has your poor head reeling and your eyes welling, little, if anything can calm the storm.  I know this from personal experience how this wretched awful mess feels. But luckily, i also know that time does truly heal all wounds. eventually the air becomes breathable again. Your body no longer aches with longing, your heart has again righted itself. Though the questions and what ifs may remain, they no longer nag you like they once did.
 One day, youll wake up and they wont be the first thought you have. Later youll lay down to sleep and they wont be your last thought either. You will have walked through a hurricane and come out the other side better for it. You will be stronger, and god willing a little more savvy. You will have gained fond memories, and thickened skin. The disaster itself will have helped you to grow as a person if you allow it to do so. So all hasnt been for naught. So again, It Is Better To Have Loved And Lost Than Never To Have Loved At All. A simple phrase. A severely ambitious statement. For these simple words have the foresight to see the better you that will arise this grieving like a pheonix. Even if you cant afford the same foresight yourself. Live.  Fall in love. Fall down so hard that your knees are bloodied and your palms are sore. Leap into it with both feet first and eyes closed. Trust like youve never been lied to. Believe in fairy tales like you did when you were young. One day, if you have a little faith, and an open heart, someone will come along who will see your baggage as a gift, your scars as beauty marks. They wont be someone, theyll be The One. And who knows, maybe without the heartbreaks youve forged forth, they wont find you as perfect as im certain they will..... 

The Great Purge.

Ok, admittedly not the most tempting of titles. I'll implore you to forgive it. Today marked the beginning of a great mission. A mission of extreme importance, and overwhelming difficulty. Today a began to purge myself of the excess shit that is plaguing my home, and my sanity. I, like most that i know, have a deep fondness for junk. Be it the antique lamp, or the decorative pillow, or the jeans that havent fit me in a year that i hold onto just in case because i know ill never find  a pair just like them and i know ill be that thin again at some point in the near future, and.... blah blah blah! Shit, junk, clutter, the heck with it all. One question started this whole process and if all goes to plan, then by the end of this journey ill have my answer.  What am i compensating for? Why do i feel the need to collect? To fill the empty spaces on my dressers, to fill my cabinets and drawers? What void am i really filling with all of this superficial malarkey? the obvious answer is that i, like almost everyone else, have fallen victim to the harsh reality of a consumer driven society dead set on making us all believe that more is more and the more you got the better you are. Now logically i know that to be false. But some part of me is still afraid to let go. WAS afraid to let go. Not any more. Today was just day one, and im not saying its going to be easy to relinquish these ties, but it will get done. i have a calm certainty that when i have hacked through the clutter that is fogging my home, that the clutter fogging my mind will also be cleared away..... now that will be a good day :) im ready to let go..... starting now.

You Cant Always Get What You Want...

But if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need. Now aint that some shit?! what type of cruel world is this where i dont always get my way?! i mean me, of all people! dont you know who i am?! entitlement is a strange beast. it can doop you into believing that you deserve something more than you do. are worthy of a life far better than the one youve got. and on rare occasion even convince you that the universe is dead wrong for not giving it to you. but why? why dont i get to be the master and commander of my ship of prosperity? or do i? ive been thinking with weighted soul about the simple facts of life as of late. the strange laws that seem to govern us. the strange feelings that move us. the things we truly believe we want and do not acquire... i was beginning to delve into a place of darkness thinking about how different my life could be if i only got to be the boss.... then it dawned on me, if i were the boss this ship would have capsized long long ago... theres a very wise woman i knew once who used to say that every step we take in life is simply one more stone on the path to where we are truly supposed to be. and for a long time i thought i understood what she meant, i thought she was telling me that even when i fell upon unsure footing, that my desiny was written and the universe would make sure i would still reach my proper destination. but now, im beginning to see things a bit clearer. now i believe her words to imply that these steps, even the unsure or misjudged ones are the destination. and that the place im supposed to be is here, now.and though i may be able to steer this vesil of mine in a particular direction, i am only just a speck in this journey. my path may be great or small; my choices brave or ripe with cowardice. but i did not manifest these choices, someone far wiser and greater than myself has laid before me an opportunity to grow, to learn, to love, to eat, to laugh, to fuck, to live. and if me in all my shortsighted genius were the one manifesting this tale, it would be bleak, for i am only able to see so much.... thank god i have faith. faith in the awesomeness of the path maker, that i be afforded the ability to choose between so many a frenzied dilemma. because me bein the boss doesnt work, sometimes like all people i cant see the forest for the trees, but boy am i glad that theres someone out there in the big wide open making sure i stay in check....making sure im jolted back to reality when i need it, and thank god making sure i can stand far back enough to see the forest; its beautiful that forest.... and i would have missed it all staring at this one tree had i not been so lucky. i dont always get exactly what i think i want, but then again, if i did, my life would probably suck ;)

Never Make A Dr's Appt For Friday The 13th!!!

Ok kids, sooo i went to the doctors yesterday. It was a truly hellish ordeal. my appt was scheduled for 11, i didnt get seen untill noon. once is that super awesome room wearing my paper dress freezing in the blasting air conditioning, i was informed that i would not be receiving the services i had made said appt for. so after a wordy debate with the head bitch practitioner she finally agreed that since i wouldnt shut up shed go ahead and preform the services i requested which included a breast exam. so the head twat left my room and the other broad began to examine my lady bits. my nether region shone through with flying colors... then came the upper body feel me up... she must have been new. maybe she hadnt yet received her sensitivity training. maybe she was just an awful liar. i asked her what was wrong. she had no answer. she quickly rushed out of the room to grab head bitchtitioner again, said bitch promptly moved to the left side of the table and began feelin me up with the sternest of expressions on her face. it was amazing and almost laughable how she was magically transformed from royal cunt to the sweetest woman in the world as she told me about the lump that they had found. she kindly and politely explained that i would have to have further testing... it blows me away how quickly attitudes change under the appropriate circumstances. i guess the whole point of this overly detailed rant is that you really should watch what you say and how you say it. you never know how much shit the person your acting like an ass to already has on their plate, or how much theyre about to have..... we learned this shit in kindergarten right? treat others as you wish to be treated.... im gonna work on that. ill keep anyone who cares posted about my tits. <3

life, love, and astounding disappointment.

I am 25 years old. When i was younger i thought that by 25 i would be happily married with a few puppies or that i would be a famous singer... obviously the later is not the case. sadly nor is the first. i hold few truths in life to be finite. but those that a do cherish i believe to be necessary to ones own happiness. to my own happiness. i believe that honesty is usually the best policy, but when a lie can save someone from undue pain that it is our duty to tell it. i believe in love at first sight. that you can meet someone and know the content of their character in an instant. that your souls can intertwine and dance with utter jubilation in an instant, and that if you keep your heart open and yourself willing that this person can be yours for a lifetime and you theirs. i believe that family is not determined by blood or legality, but by love. people exist who will understand, support and take care of you better than any blood relative may be able. blood may be thick, but water can move mountains. i believe that dogs are the closest thing to enlightenment you will find on this planet. they are pure, simple and beautiful in every sense of the word. i believe that hate is death. hate is only a secondary analyzation of love fueled by disappointment in another. i believe that repression of ones self causes cancer. honor your desires. allow them to breath. if it is unhealthy to do so, then find their root and dissolve them, do not simply stuff them away. I am 25 years old. i have lived with hippies in the redwood forest. i have lounged upon multi-million dollar properties on the beach. i have been drunk, been high, been in love one too many times, and one too few. i have been homeless. i have owned a home. i have given food to hungry men. saved a life. given birth, i have made love to a beautiful man. i kissed a girl and i liked it. ive told horrible, cheesy jokes. ive laughed until there was no sound escaping my lips and my ribs ached. ive spoken out for what i believe in. ive screamed so long and so hard that my throat bled. i have danced. i have sung. i have cried. i have felt the agony of a broken heart, and the joy brought back to it by a hot guy telling me im beautiful. i have been thin, i have been fat. i have listened. i have put aside my own selfish wants for the betterment of someone elses life. i have fought. i have waged war against the darkness of my own mind, and tried to help others do the same. i believe that you can have not a dime, but if you are with those that make your brain tingle and your stomach fuzzy then you will be richer than any billionaire i am long winded, well spoken, and i curse like a sailor. i have tattoos. i am 25 years old today, and though i am not where i thought i would be, i am contented in one simple notion... i have lived.