Have you ever been in love?

July 8, 2012 § 112 Comments

Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…You give them a piece of you. They didn’t ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn’t your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.

―Neil Gaiman, The Sandman, Vol. 9: The Kindly Ones

my baby my boo

July 7, 2012 § 43 Comments

My baby-my boo, my spirited fool, my storybook pleasure, my best friend and companion. My right hand, my wingman,       the    death   of   my    independence. My freedom, my eyes, my desire, my prize, the hands that hold my feet up so i can look over the wall to the other side. My baby-my boo, my demon, my crazy, my chaos my whole heart, my confusion my illusions. My heart gaining composure, my rested hands enclosed in yours, my heavy, my heat, my baby, my beast. My sun, my dark sky, me on my knees begging for one more try. My music, my brain, my beat, my veins, my blood–you are in there amongst all the rage. My torturous pleasures, my addictions my endeavors, my adventures and travels, you are there ever ever. My baby-my boo, my death, my whole world, my drive, my ambition, my ticks of time are yours too. My craving my weakness, my ability to let loose, my fall down surrender, my give in–my admittance to accept you. My baby-my boo, my toy, my boy-my false truth, my steps amongst the best, my highest aspirations-all coming true. My baby-my boo–my whole heart. you. Me? left behind watching from the sidelines, wondering when i’ll come back to live within my own ticks of time, live in my brain, beat in my own heart, suffer on my own accord, break at the will of no one-but my own. My baby-my boo, i must go, i love you, but i love me so much more and my heart can’t afford another triumphant defeat of a boy who i cannot really keep –close to my heart like i crave. And this hush-a-bye romance keeps me wired-spiraled letting loose all the dreams that i ache. My baby-my boo, My whole heart, i miss you, i see you, i freeze you–don’t move, ’til i say to. Say goodbye and i watch you, walk away with my boy, my spirited fool, my beast and my heaven my cravings my attention, my death and my life, my muse and my writings. My baby-my boo. My baby-my boo. My spirited fool-always always.

tuesday. july 3rd, 10:15am

July 4, 2012 § 54 Comments

Sitting outside Michael Dell’s house. I’m hoping his brilliant brain cells bounce across his pond and land in my skull. Straddled over a wooden picnic table-journal in hand, toes squished into the morning sand. This is my carefree, this is my freedom–this is MY HAPPY. Lazy sea turtle stares at me through one sleepy eye–his appearance is one of  a quirky egotistical nobleman.  He knows what I’m up to– we have an understanding. Bright white capricious tree swerves around me,  lounge-chair-ish, climbable branches. I can barely sit still to write.

How long is that lazy turtle going to sleep..?  I didn’t sleep enough last night. It’s  10:15am. Missed my early perfect pretty morning.  I’m a morning girl. A morning girl who’s a night-girl, a girl who sometimes forgets to sleep at all-girl. YET, nothing matters here in Kona-land. Kona is my perfect piece of earth, my peace, my ecstasy, my confusing rhyme of words coming together, connecting, and flowing just so. This is the place of happy, where minds leave, and furious hearts sit still in grateful silences.

Michael Dell is kind of sexy for 47, I wonder how tall he is. I’ve always had a thing for nerdy computer guys. It’s my weak-link. My last boyfriend was 14 years older than me. My next will probably  be 24 years older, because I cannot handle the younger male species  (cantankerous creatures). I don’t meet boys my age–well…. except the enthusiastic, ripped up tennis pro here at the club who has seduced me by way of standing. Oddly, he’s MIA since my arrival. I can’t re-call his name. Did we exchange names?  I can’t remember. Certainly his name is brilliant and seductive like his court game and happy laugh which echoes across the green, teasing me every morning from a distance. Tennis pro-boy said he liked my quirky 5-finger vibram shoes when we talked last. I felt that was a sufficient sign of interest–being the shoes are not attractive– an attempted compliment? Or no…? I’m terrible at this love-game  flirt-thing and reading signs. The boy across the hall says I think too much, he says I should learn to kiss without thinking.     If I ever kiss him again that is exactly what I will do. I will kiss him brainless. Because my thoughts towards him have discolored; fading into a lifeless empty stare sort of feeling–no joy, no love, no hurt, no friendship, hate or sadness involved. Just a simple stagnant taste in my mouth accompanied by a withdrawal of nothingness.

I can’t stand people who purposely try to belittle and hurt you. I can’t stand myself when I hang around and let it happen like a sick little co-dependent addict. But I’m in Kona-land, and people are people and that’s just life. I choose what and who I want. At the end of the day it’s all me. I point every finger back at myself accepting blame for every situation I enter and allow into my brilliant ticks of time.  Overexposing my innards to careless hearts and hands is a practice I am prepared to stop performing.

I think I will go paddle-boarding today. Life is so big–and there is so much room for beautiful when you get rid of the stagnant parts that keep you tied down– locked up in your head and retarded in your heart.

( i remember your eyes were so bright when i first met you-but now i’m talking in past tense, meaning future here is not a word)

That lazy turtle finally went back into the water. I finished my Kona coffee along with my coconut/banana/peanut butter/chocolate smoothie. Time for some barefoot running. Time  to  get  a go on this drop-dead-gorgeous morning.

too much

July 3, 2012 § 45 Comments

“Some people care too much. I think it’s called love.”

― Winnie the Pooh

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