"Let's Just Say it was a Memorable Impression"

A date?!?! what am i? absolutely crazy???

I thought i was supposed to be love hermitting. I thought things were supposed to stay casual. I mean, sure i've been entertaining ideas of casually seeing some people here and there. And sure, i complain all the time about being lonely and desperately horny... But a date?!

and don't tell me that one single date is nothing in terms of committment. that's a lot.

I've committed to interact with a boy for over an hour. me? pleasent for over an hour? What am i supposed to talk about with a person I don't know? no social lubricant.

dry interaction. with a stranger. in a very awkward situation.

And here i was contemplating my social inadequecies. and i've set myself up for a date. daaattteeeee.

What do I think is going to happen? oh god. what's going to happen?

I mean, we'll talk. maybe we'll snack. i'm hoping to god he doesn't expect to eat. you've all seen me eat. i'm messy. i can't be messy in front of a stranger in which i'm casually pleasently interacting with for over an hour.

And what if it goes well? what if i like him and he likes me? How does dating even go in our quasi adult world?! do i call him? wait for him to call me?

what if we like each other so much we go on a second date. and what if a third? do i have sex with him then? no... we have sex when we're ready.

I'm not even ready to trust someone enough to date and i'mthinking about being ready to fuck?

Adam's coming home in like six days. then what happens? I doubt times one million that we'll get back together but it'll be such an emotional mess. And i'm supposed to rope someone else into this? Isn't it bad enough that I've dragged other boys into it? god.

I'm so dumb. sssoooooo dumb.

ANd i'm so "jaded" and distrustful and angry that i barely believe we'll go out tomorrow. He'll call me and cancel. or he won't call and then we just won't go out. I have issues right now. As is obvious. I can't date someone now. I'm insane. people don't want to date insane people. and insane people shouldn't willingly date.

I need time. I need time to get over my issues, not be insane, and be ready. But who has that sort of time? I don't. I have the remnants of a night and the starts of a morning.

Date. God, who do i think i am?

There is no Truth. Not in this dead beat alley.

Fate has stopped along the way and this is our last chance. It never Comes back.

Take me one last time.

Passion

I'm pretty sure that I look much more like a doll than I did 5 years ago when I played one in the nutcracker. I think it's the curls.

Today someone guessed that I was 14. wow. talk about a demotion.

JohnFromTheBank called me today.... awkward. weekend plans... maybe. But he breaks my NoHMB rule... Although i tease Andrea all the time about making dating rules... It's ok, i usually break mine anyways.

I'm so in love with Clive Owen.

I hate School quite officially.

IceBreaker: If you were to tell the best story in the entire history of mankind in one word what would it be? why?

It's been officially decided...

Life with weather like this is one big ass bucket of crap.

Also:

time, life, people, boys, noise, days, waking, school, and work all suck as well.

(Sometimes i'm glad i don't have a gun. because PPMS time i'm likely to shoot first. think later.)

Note to self:

really now, just give it up.

Slowly Migrating back to old blog...

Due to counter i know there's like 1 person who checks this normally (ok, so there's 3)...

So, my email address is sydpanball22@hotmail.com I'll send the address to you.

Maria

I listen to this song as proof of your infidelity. You crazy cheating heart. Cheap heart. My intensity. Wasted intensity.

The mornings are always good. Renewed strength and renewed hope. There is no love in me anymore. Not for him or her. Not for them. The bastards, the liars, the always pretenders.

And somehow by twilight i'm always crying. For me now, not them any longer. In outrage, not saddness. This makes me stronger. Stronger. Stronger than them all.

Lovesick Lover your the one I want to save from this Haze.

And i want to live like this forever:

listening to gentle passionate classic guitar and reading. Taking long baths and fantasizing of kissing different lips. Of my hair all up with pins to make me feel refined but my legs bare of everything.

I want to live forever feeling so empty. But not the bad kind. THe good kind. clean. cleansed. free of everything weighing me down. Just empty. Empty stomach and mind. Simply echoes. Simply free. naked and unafraid. free.

But my own mortality, humanity affects eventually.

And in Holy Times

I feel so full and slow and drowsy with sex. I feel soaked in blood. I feel swollen with it. Every part of my body is aching and satisied.Every ounce of me is moaning.

Once and twice. And i'm ashamed and proud. Feel dirty. Feel free. And i feel like i can do this without him. That my sexuality isn't tied between the laces of his, the drawstrings of his, the fabric of his pants.

And then in quiet i fall asleep. Dream of biting his thighs. Dream of his fast moving hands. the way his body bends with orgasm. I hear his moans and feel him in my mouth. And i want to be on my knees again. So much a woman taking him. I know the every curve of him.

And so i wake and furiously, angrily I am again. I bite his name into the sheets and my hand clenches pillows with force. This is brutal and i force it. And it's hard and it chokes me. I cum again.

And immediately my whole self is heavy with it. tired and sluggish with it. drugged with it. And i search him out. wait a little longer. wish a little harder. Refuse to cry and i think of only the feeling of biting into his thighs. his hips.

Watching him jolt with pleasurepain. Wanting to bite all the way through.

How Could I Love You Still

He calls when sleeping. middle nights.

and my first reaction is that it's a dream. and i let myself roll comfortably into the sound of his voice, thinking "thank god he called."

But sleep fades and i'm outraged. "How could he simply call?" And i want to scream that i hate him. i hate him. That i didn't ever want to hear the sound of his voice.

But it's a lie. so we laugh and small talk. And i share my happy moments he no longer deserves to be apart of. And then the call dies.

Simply. without justification. without goodbye it simply drops. drops. and i'm left awake with his thought half finished. lonely again. can't sleep again. tossing and turning.

Already cried. Already came. nothing works. nothing works.

The night goes on and the cd finishes and only gradual time allows me sleep.

When did I deserve this?

I hate you. I hate you because I can't help but love you. I hate you because how much you've hurt me. And how you never really cared about that. I hate that i have to question whether or not you used me for sex. I hate that I've always known what a coward you are. I hate all the sweet things i've. I hate how i allowed myself to be your cake. Allowed myself to feel the guilt i've felt.

I hate how i can't just shake it.

I want to be free. free again. free from the hurt. even the hope. I want to be free of the memories. free of the fear.

I want these years to dissappear. I want May to never come. I need to get away. get away from the me that can't help but love you. take care of you. forgive you. always give to you.

I hate and need to be free of the self accusation within me. I've been this person for so long and used it as excuse.

I need to leave that behind. but i don't know how.

Road Tripping

Home from trip.

Many pictures taken.

Many miles passed.

Many realizations come.

Many moments to remember.

Bust mostly, Adolfo is a thousand times wonderful.

Details to come.

I guess nothing will ever be the same from here on out.

I guess i should have never expected anything more.



There is nothing poetic about heartbreaking fact.

At least you were nice enough to let me down easy

Liar

I don't think of you as an artist. You shape shifter. fake lover. with the paint on your face and too many pretensions.

I don't think of you as a man. You coward thing. weak thing. You lies and dust and kisses thing.

I don't think of you as a woman. Your thin bones and your lack of hair and your small breasts that i never wanted to kiss.

Artist man woman. Liar.

You remind me of too many books i've read and your always just raw, aren't you. Monotone is who you are. Monochramatic. anything but monogamous. You remind me of too many dirty things we pass over on street corners and shake our heads at. The nights get cold beneath newspapers, your fingers grey from ink. Your shoes with holes and licking lips.

Never mother abortioner. Too much alcohol abuser.

Couldn't even do those right, could you.

Shape shifter, fake lover. With your pictures and bad hair and secret vacations. I want to hold you down. cut your wrists for you. (you like that, don't you?) carve my name there for all the world to see.

You are mine. You were mine first and mine always. And it just tore you apart to know i never wanted you, didn't it?

Couldn't ever want such a play thing. such a pretender. bad actress with her bad lines. Bad actor with his bad lines. Which are you? tell me.

With your ink stained fingers and blood stained lines. give me a break. Self centered whore. Puppykitten licking at my feet thing.

How old are you again? I don't remember but i'm sure it's much too old for these games with no dice. Shake it. Take it. Work it. Feels good, doesn't it?

press against me a little harder and close your eyes a moment. And i've never hated anyone more. Liar. Faker. Pretender.

I don't list betrayals anymore but i vomit them in toilet seats like secrets. Whore.

Miles couldn't ever be enough distance. and i want nothing more than to spit in your face.

I love You

And he saves it. And there are pink ribbons in her hair. And the music says "i'm so hollow. i'm so hollow"

and she's in love again because she allows herself to be. FOr a moment, for a moment.

"it's just not enough. you deserve more than that."

Everyone assures her "you'll be fine. everything will be fine. It'll work out..."

and she wants to say thank you but deep down she's always known that. Always known she'd love again. Maybe someday. Always known that no matter what tomorrow will eb tomorrow.

So thank you. I know.

I do how I do. and this one isn't for you.

THis is for me.