26 July 2014

Waiting All The While

These summer nights have got me. Sometimes by the hand, and sometimes by the throat. But oh my, do they make my little heart do flips in the best and worst sense. I've definitely put myself out there and connected with people who get it. And rolled my eyes at people who don't. I spend my work nights talking a lot of sass and laughing at everything possible. I wink more, groan less, and for the most part push the positive even in the most negative of times. Because if you can't laugh at yourself, well then... you don't have much going for ya, kid.

"You're a peach, remember that!"

People are as shocked as me that I am where I am now. "Like a kitten tied in a bag left on the side of the freeway, huh?" Something like that. But I untied that motherfucker and started clawing at shit. And I answer their questions as if whatever happened before was just a glitch on the radar and after the reboot it was like, "Really, all of that mess for just a little bump in the road?" Or at least that's how I present it. Because 2 years can't mean anything to you if it obviously didn't mean anything to anyone else either. Who wants to be "that one" in a situation anyway? So click through it like it was whatever and you won't get those sad eyes from people. No one wants that. You don't want that.

"On the other side of pain is growth." Eh, kinda bullshit, really. Through pain is resentment and realization and adjustments and tweaks to the damage that's been done and patching bubble gum on shit and stepping back and closing one eye then dusting something off and saying, "Hmm, yea.. that'll do for now! Yea yea, that works." And claiming we fixed what broke us. Then we adapt into the adjustments and call it "growth". No matter how much you might want to say it, the world is not "universe rules" and "deep quotes on life". It's fucking... weird and full of stuff you really want and more things you don't. And trying to put a filter on all of the bad (saying it will bring good) is well, like spraying the room and hoping it doesn't stink. But I am all about "faking it if you have to." This was a tangent based in another thought. So, I do digress.

And this song that came through the wires has got me.
"but what's the problem,
yeah he's been burnin' your blankets all this time,
it's for your own good that you learn to be a cold man too."

Really though, things are pretty great. And everyday is only looking better and better. My old skin is just about gone, thank God. I was kind of over it anyway.


24 July 2014

Punch Lines

When life gives you a broken heart, too much beer, fernet, and confidence...throw yourself a party. And stay up till 7am. And talk about weird things. Laugh. Pinch people. Eat pizza. Spend too much time thinking about dancing and then not dance. Hold hands. Wink at the vaqueros. Drink too much iced coffee while contemplating the future. Write letters. Put your whole self out there. And make promises with your fingers crossed.

Have fun babies.
You only get one chance on stage.


19 July 2014


So then I said to him, after another cold sip of something that triggers memories,
"He really thinks he's better than me. I think that's what it is. I see these things about how other people find him so "enlightening". Oh yea, he's just a regular saint isn't he? Because people who are so in tune make decisions that completely ruin other people don't they? Shitty that I knew that girl via social media before he did. That was a fun discovery on a hot day."
And he shrugs his shoulders like he does when I rant on before the crowds push in and says, "But what do you care now? What can you do now? Keep being mad? Ok, do that. Keep being mad and keep go back and peeking into it and then stewing over it. Let me know how your insides feel in a few weeks after doing that all the time."
I roll my eyes.
I shake my head.
I take another long drink and put my head into my hand.
"It just makes me mad to know that he's running around like Jesus. Like leaving me was about as easy as blinking and now he's on to the next one and doesn't even bother to acknowledge my existence. It really feels as if the last two years of my life are something I completely made up."
Tears well up. And I put my hand over my eyes and I feel his hand on my shoulder.
"And do you think he's sitting somewhere right now complaining about you? Unlikely. He doesn't care about you. I'm sorry. I don't know him. I never will. But he does not care about you. So you're wasting valuable energy on someone who if you got hit by a bus tomorrow would probably go, 'ah shit, well that's too bad' and then go back to sticking his..."
I put my hand up in his face.
"Listen girl, I'm sure he has moments where he misses you. If he doesn't than there is no chance he is human. I don't know you well but I know you well enough to know. He's trying to play tough. And that's too bad for him."
"I told you about the final day. The tears in his eyes, the 'till we see each other again' the hug..."
He laughs and shakes his head at me like I just told him a bad a joke.
"It was all for him to make him feel better. He doesn't care about you. Not one bit. So you need to stop caring about him."


I'm pushing through this world the best way I know how to. And no, there isn't any "settled point of view here." And you're right, on the other side of pain is growth... so here's your "growth and motion."
This will be the last time I talk about you on here. I get it now. Harboring hatred is like swallowing poison and hoping the other person dies.


I pour the last of my drink into my mouth and toss my cup into the trash can. I pull the bar rag from my hip and wipe my cheeks.
"Yea... you're right. I was looking for meaning in things that were... well fucking meaningless."
"If I high fived I would high five you right now. But I don't. So tell me about about this late night Tuesday adventure with a boy who might actually have heart."
I smile and shove the bar rag into my back pocket. As I walk over to the cooler to check the stock on the beer I plan on selling out of tonight I feel the smile hit my face and and a wave of calm rush over me.
"You know," I say with my back to him, hand tapping out a rhythm on the glass cooler door, "I am a bad ass bitch."
I hear him laugh.
"No really though. And what's great about that.. is a) that I know it and b) that every time someone has doubted that and fucking dips out on me like a quitter, doesn't take long before they realize it again and that tinge of regret that hits that one part of you heart... you know what I'm talking about? That regret poke that you try to shake off physically when it hits? It's sorta like waking up and reading drunk texts, you know?" I turn around and check his face for understanding and he is smiling, "Oh yea little flower... I know that feeling."
"Yea. Every time I've been hurt I find solace in the fact that at some point, at some fucking glorious point, all those fucking assholes will have a moment where I cross their minds and then that tinge and hard poke, it hits. And trust this big ego when I say, you can't shake hard enough to get that feeling to go away when it comes to me."
Now I'm smiling and shaking my head and waving my finger at him. Partly trying to change my mood and partly relishing in what I know and hope to be true.
"God, it's so great that you are SO humble."


I have regrets. I would be lying if I didn't. There are things I wish I wouldn't have said. Moments of "acting out" that I wish I could take back. But I can't sit in that place anymore. It will likely destroy me. And I have too much left of this empire to build to let what's already standing get torn down by some fucking asshole who can just put his energy into someone new so quickly.

"We find comfort among those who agree with us -- growth among those who don't." Frank A. Clark.

Take that shit and fucking text it.

Here let me take a cue from you: on to the next one.