Feb 11, 2013

pussy power

is it too early and dramatic to say that I'm going through a mid life crisis at the early and tender age of 21? being dramatic is a trait i don't condone on myself and will try to dodge as much as possible, but it's as if life itself is literally testing me and laughing down on me simultaneously right now. all at once, shit hit the fan...the noise of the, shit, hitting the fan should've been a sure sign of a fiasco. and the splatter and mist of it that hit my face that followed soon after sent me on a downfall.. let me periodically tell you the initial event that started the whole downward spiral...

my job, that I've been working on, on literally my hands and knees let me go after the hectic winter season . the Cinderella of the bunch, that, and I quote "has the most potential" was replaced by a a fire red headed Aussie accented bella. was she the devil in disguise? i swear she was..confused as i was, my coworkers were dumbfounded with the surprise sneak attack as well. they were ready to riot for me and even wrote down a list of people that had a better chance at getting the boot instead of me. and as a backhanded karma to my boss, the she-devil quit a week later. It's their loss really, on account that I was an asset in disguise, but he was too blind with money and success to realize what was in front of his nose. flip the bird and walk away..

a couple days later...my boyfriend of 4 years threw, more so, chucked the white flag at my face. I was smothered with emotions from guilt, devastation, anger, sadness; a kaleidoscope of feelings swirling around me spinning me outta control. Never have I felt a pain in my heart like that of a breakup. first love, first heartbreak...tragic huh? for a good couple days; days in which felt like centuries...I would be a sad little skitsophrenic girl. I'd go my day telling myself, everything is good, this is for the better, FREEDOM! then as easy as it was to say those words, a memory would sneak up from the back crevasses of my mind into the frontal lobe of my head and I'd send myself soaring into bed crying to the point where I'm hacking because breathing became a nature that was dismissed. being the person that I am, being heartless is too harsh of an interpretation, but on rarity do I cry. so for the few days, i cried and cried and cried for my entire lifetime past. until, i literally ran myself dry. and then i sat with myself...slapped myself across the face a couple times and told myself to snap out of it. i dug a hole for myself to lie in, and what better way to prove myself wrong than to throw dirt back into that hole and start fresh.

a couple days after that...my mom bombarded me with the news that having a chance of growing up as a family, whole, was a far fetch cry. the beans were spilt that a divorce was in the works. This didn't come to a surprise to me at all, truth be told. My family wasn't exactly the textbook Brady Bunch type...with the white picket fence, turkey roasting in the oven ready for dinner and everyone at the table by 6 with fake plastered smiles. when my mom pulled me aside this one day and told me of their desicion, more so hers, she cried tears of redemption. I had no say...i was speechless, not because of a state of shock, but i really had nothing to say...i sounded like a broken record, repeating, "things are gonna be alright." but the convincing resonation lacked and i was moreso talking to myself at that point. so I sat there rubbing her back and cooing her to sleep. I didn't cry..I still haven't.

so you see, the sequence of these unfortunate events took me to a dark place in my life. and I stood there pondering, whether to walk deeper into the abyss or to turn the other way. back into the light and face my demons head on. and being me, I walked a couple steps forward into the dark to feel for the pain, the sorrow and malice....and once I felt it for that split second, I turned around towards the light. I needed to change these harsher days, so I turned each downfall upside down. and i needed to change myself, so I checked myself into "rehab," going under construction to better myself altogether. The strength I have for myself, to still be standing firmly on the ground after all this, is something I admire about myself immensely. my grandparents, to my aunts  and uncles have always said I was the tough one of the family. and living up to that title all these years have shaped my backbone and my heart. 

the damage is a done deed, but to let it seep into your soul and rot is a mistake alot of people fall under. you just gotta shake it off, wipe that dirt off your shoulder and stand stronger, and straighter  than before. and keep an outlook of positivity running at all costs. To walk on the dark side, is of the normality, just don't dwell. walk out of it with a perception of change and positivity. I see these events as acts of Gods plan for me...he won't put me through anything I cannot handle and so my faith lies in his hands. Better days will come of this, and so at the end of the day, it's just me and my patience again. And I'm happy to say that I'm getting better at it. 

Feb 6, 2013

turn your lights down low

 

 Loving you is a like a song I replay
Every three minutes and thirty seconds of every day
And every chorus was written for us to recite 
 Every beautiful melody of devotion every night
It's potion like this ocean that might carry me
In a wave of emotion to ask you to marry me
And every word, every second, and every third
Expresses the happiness more clearly than ever heard
And when I play them, every chord is a poem
Telling the Lord how grateful I am cause I know him 
 The harmonies possess a sensation similar to your caress
If you asking then I'm telling you it's yes
Stand in love, take my hand in love, and Jah bless

happy birthday Bob Marley, jah rastafari bless
 GOD IS LOVE

Feb 4, 2013

big girls don't cry

i sit shotgun with my hands folded neatly in my lap, unchained, but held down with a force too deep to understand. weighed down by the heaviness of self-control, shame and respect. I fiddle to keep them from reaching over to grasp his, and so I sit on them too scared to show an action that once was so easy.
i sat shotgun with my hands intertwined with his, while his calluses rubbed against my skin leaving traces that i could still outline with my fingers. he had this manner, like a nervous tapping of the feet when anxious, where hed always bring my hands to his lips. i asked him why he always did that, "your face is too far." is what he replied back...i loved his hands...I still do.

i look at him, searching...a hard look to his face, like a marble statue with an unwavering facade. and when our gaze do finally lock, i seek warmth and reassurance, but instead i find a cold pit staring back at me. like those recognizable stares from strangers that last for more than 5 seconds, where you see a faint glimmer and as soon as you walk past each other it fades...a stare of a stranger..
i looked at him and he returned the same vision. so easy he was with those eyes it was unnerving. butterflies and heartaches too good I would feel my legs turn into jelly and he'd stare at me so intently making me feel as if i was the only girl in the world.

I talk to him with caution, eggshell walking on my tip toes. borders that once didn't exist came to play, and watching what I said to him was a task that tested my willpower to an extent. so I blabbered nonsense, and hid behind my "fuck" and "motherfuckers." he lacked, and I feened. silence was thickest, giving me room of thoughts of could-be conversations. and so heavy sighs were frequent.
I talked to him without any second thoughts or hesitations. the spectrum was as broad as the horizon. from the talks of forever and promises, to the light bickering on who's turn it was to choose where to eat out. our silences were comforting, we'd exchange hand squeezes and glances to each other and from that mere transfer of affection, no words were needed to be spoken.

I kiss him, and it's as if I lost all memory to something so sweet. the taste is so familiar, yet so new. like a familiar scent you cant recall, but it takes you back to your childhood days...we kiss with fast mouths and hurried breaths. searching for hidden whispers perhaps? biting back our tongues avoiding unspoken exchanges that would break it all.
I kissed him,  and I felt my entrity come ablaze. the spaces in between us, the lust, the tension, the longing...the love...would be engulfed by us both when our lips finally met. the passion would bring Venus to her knees. "you kiss by the book.."

we touch with a sense of desire of, a touch. it was fed with hunger and need. his hands gripped tighter than usual, rougher than usual, colder than usual. and I reacted with the same amount of lacking. as much as pleasure coincided with pleasure, the missing piece that once differentiated making love to having sex was an arms reach away. but the effort to to do so wasn't voluntarily wanted, so it hung over our bodies. waiting...
we touched with a sense of desire of each others wholeness. I revelled at his passion, and his intensity. and the exchanges between us was something, I, as a soul being was made for. our bodies fit in unison.

I loved him...i love him...to stand strong behind my heart is a fools paradise. but a foolish girl with a heavy heart, but an unwavering will is  a paradise in within itself. better days will come in better time...for now I sit, in the shallowness of my so called patience and myself. I'll wait for you.