I'm an asshole.

I'm so tired all the time. I hate how much red bull I buy. My day "off" is when I only work at 1 job. I may explode. I'm already hard to talk to and spend time with. I don't know if I should keep pushing through with this. I don't want to give up but I don't want to be miserable, because I have been. Some days I feel this welling frustration and I either want to snap or cry. I don't want the brunt of this to be directed at the people I love. I wish I could do it all. I don't know if I'm made to multitask. I remember my friend reading a study about how people who were considered multi taskers were also more commonly depressed. She said she didn't understand why but I said maybe it's because they can never fully devote themselves to a single task at hand, they can't enjoy something completely because they are also focusing on something else. I'm trying to become more responsible...but I owe it to myself to have a day off, to relax...to enjoy what is going on around me completely, to be with people I love and want to be with. I don't know how much more I can take. It's my own damn fault for creating this suffocating schedule. I find solace in a 2 hour gap between jobs where I just eat and try and tune out my thoughts for a few minutes before knowing I will be working late moving around with heavy drinks and big plates of food, trying to stay quick and smiling, walking an average of 4 miles. I'll be up early in the morning trying to keep a smile and a clean organized desk (clean and organized are words that typically arent featured in descriptions of me) while patients come and go every 10 minutes and I struggle to complete all the tasks in my shift while my manager reminds me that I need to speed up. I don't want to be disappointing but I don't want to wonder about what or who I've been missing. Life goes on. I feel myself slipping away. I don't doubt I'll come back though. Something has to change. I have to change. I also have to go to sleep and wake up early. Take off my hat to put on a different one. Where's the wonder woman hat. Even wonder woman needs sleep and day off. I bet she would still get shit done though. It's kinda sad I dont want to exert much energy when there is a rare day off aka day with only 1 job. Talking aobut this makes me tired. Good night! Good morning. Ask the girl behind the front desk how she's doing then give that waitress at dinner a really nice tip for working hard.

20 year old heart

        I was lonely in San Jose. Lost in my own apartment. Wanting to socialize but not wanting to socialize. I didn't like to cook, which meant I would rarely step out of my room. I didn't like to talk to my room mates. I wanted to make friends without having to make them. I just wanted them to be. Come find me, even though I'm isolating myself here in this stuffy third floor bedroom with my microwaved dinner. I took and still take so long to warm up to people unless there really is a chemistry to us. I wanted someone. I wanted something. Not the best circumstances for love, I understand, but hey, it happened. Since I do take awhile to "warm up", since I am shy and distant, I found you on the internet. Facebook is great for stalking people who you don't even know. I knew you weren't a closet internet monster because I saw we had the same friends. This was confirmed by pictures and comments and I was intrigued by those pictures and comments. I wasn't sure if I found you attractive at first, but I somehow kept ending up looking at your photo. It was so silly too because it wasn't even completely you, I mean it was a funny photo that one of our mutual friends had cropped your head onto. Even as a floating head I found you intriguing. Where does that head like to go, whats that head thinking inside of it? I sound crazy, and I am a little bit. I am fascinated by people. Yet scared of them all the same. So I friend requested you- the equivalent of sliding a hand onto one's thigh internetly speaking. I'm gonna try this and if you like this, you accept okay? Well you might accept and then ignore it, but let's see shall we? So I did. You accepted.

       One day I saw your name pop up in the facebook chat. Heeeyyyyy why not? We started talking. Months of loneliness had me brimmed with witty quips I needed to unload on someone. It was almost too much, but we ended up talking for a couple hours right away. It was fun! It ate up my time, and it was delicious. That sentence made me feel cheesy. I felt cheesy. Dont get too excited! I said in my head. Don't scare him away like the last guy. Well, that guy had issues, I tell myself. So every day I had something to look forward to, you in a little box. I looked at your pictures and your interests listed before me on a screen and I formed you in my mind. We kept talking, hours a day. Then we texted all throughout the day, yet I think we were both afraid to hear each others voice. So we never spoke but we definitely talked. Hmmm. Your birthday was coming up and we unofficially decided this was when we would meet because you were going to have a party with your friends and yes, I was invited too. It was a few weeks away and I was really excited. I got drunk at a party and texted you about how excited I was. I have a hard time holding back when I'm sober, let alone when I'm filled with an unfamiliar combination of artificial colors and liquors. You texted me back saying something like "Lets not get too ahead of ourselves, we don't want to get too excited." I felt like a drunk deflated balloon. Don't scare him away like the last guy. But you assured me you were happy to meet me too, just cautious.

      So it came to be the the week before your party and I was ready for it. It felt very far away. I was about to go out with a friend who had made it clear she wanted to be more than friends (Yeah, I said she) but I wanted to be with you, even though I hadn't even met you yet! I was waiting to get picked up and then I texted you half seriously and said "I just bought a lot of snacks, (can't remember what but lots of grape capri sun for some reason) wanna come over?" You texted me right back. "Is that an invitation Laura? Because I'm seriously considering it." Oh! Whoa. Uh...okay! I told my friend I didn't feel like going out, sorry. I gave you my address. Your phone gave you directions because I suck at giving them. You offered to sleep on the floor if you ended up staying late. I already knew you would not be on the floor. You're with me, silly. Drive safe. Oh my god! Oh dear god my room is disgusting. Clean it right now! So I compiled all my laundry and threw it into the closet. I vacuumed. Fucking vacuumed (that was a big deal then). Threw away all my manifesting school paper snack garbage, made the bed (which was just 2 mattresses stacked on each other and then later pushed together on the floor) and I straightened up my room and made it seem nice. You called me. It was the first time we had heard each other speak. I ran down concrete steps to search for your car. You lifted one arm out the window but didn't come out. I ran to the side window. Too excited, careful. I sat beside you in the passenger seat. You had facial hair that I hadn't seen in your pictures. Interesting, but I still thought you were cute. I began to talk very fast and acted quite squirrelly. Control yourself, you fidgety fuck. I suggest we go to the parking lot underneath my complex to smoke, so I would calm down, mostly. So we did and I was afraid to look in your eyes at first. We sat in veils of smoke and the charged energy of what might be. I invited you upstairs- it didn't seem sleazy, only the natural progression of things. It felt comfortable to ask you to be there. Will you be there? Will you stay here awhile, with me? We watched too many movies, three, I think. I couldn't take it anymore so I just cut you off mid sentence at one point, and kissed you. I had to. I was waiting and I knew you were too. Our lips made sense of each other and all the waiting made it feel right to be so close to you. We fell asleep in each others arms. Excitement turned to peace in our sleep. I knew I could love you. And I did. You left the next day-very late in the day. You were there for awhile, but you couldn't stay.

So much has happened since you. The hurt has become understanding. It doesn't diminish how deeply it was felt. I know we kind of remain like satellites in each others lives. You know what I mean. I still wonder, maybe you do too but it's different. I hope one day we will know what it means to love someone fully and without underlying selfishness. I think we did at one time but we were both so hurt the first time around we found love. I know you're a good person but don't feel like it all the time. That's where I'm at too. I read your last post. I felt a familiar spark of jealousy but it quickly dissolved because I felt that you deserve this love and happiness. I don't wish you hurt. I know you didn't for me.

That's my name,
your name
wore it out.
You don't get to
anymore.
You can't use
that tone
in public
or alone.
I don't need to
hear it
from you.
Swallow
the titles
and all the
rights down
to your heart.
Taste how
it sounds
one last time.
Time will
digest it.

Change is good...right?

19 year old heart

My palms are sweaty because I can't believe it's you who is sitting beside me. This moment is a dream that I made happen.

A week ago I saw you and claimed you with my eyes, that's the one, I want THAT. That became a name and person I was sitting next to. I was meeting my mom to go grocery shopping, but thank god I was driving separately because it looked much cooler for me to see you the first time in the parking lot sans mom. You were wrangling shopping carts and putting them in their place. Well hello shopping cart cowboy you have some mighty dark and intense eyes from across this parking lot. And you knew I was looking, because you really looked back for an unnecessary length of time. Normally in the past I would have just turned red and averted my gaze out of a delighted bashfulness. But I felt sexy today. My makeup was carefully crafted, as was my tan, I wore little short shorts, and I was driving my car by myself looking so independent (to meet my mom to buy groceries...). I smirked a sexy smirk, a smirk that is telling of a moment of attraction. Hey I see you, I know you see me...let's see each other. So after I parked my car, I noticed the shopping carts were no longer a pressing matter and they remained frightened and lost by parked cars as you quickly ditched them to follow me inside.

But I had to meet up with my mom, oh yeah. My mom is the one who created me after all though, so we do share similar tastes. "Look at that guy, mom. The one with the dark hair and goatee."

"Ooohhhffff.!" Her face contorts and she wedges up her eyebrows as if to say "hot damn!"  "Oh he.is.gorgeous!" she said to me in her animated sing song way. My mom becomes a 19 year old in this moment too as we see you around the store and giggle. So of course when we were done shopping we look to see which line you're bagging groceries in. "There he is!" we indicate to each other with our eyes and smiles. So we're about to move towards you, when the cashier next to us, yells "Next in line over here please!"

Wait, fuck! It's not like my mom and I can say "Oh no, were fine, we're just waiting for this sexy young man over here to bag our groceries." So we both kind of sigh, and move to this other, much less attractive line.  But then! Just as you ditched the shopping carts in the parking lot....you ditch your line! Probably not the best work ethic, but you're coming over to me! You want to put my lettuce and milk in a bag! You look really good doing it too. Commence silly smiling again from me and my mom. So now were standing there and you're bagging and looking up from those pretty, thick, lashes and huge hazel eyes. I bite my lip. I bite it because I'm wrestling it from curling up into a stupid grin. For once, I'm glad my mom starts to talk a lot. "Do you like working here?" and then I hear your voice and I decide I like it. I would like this voice to say things to me. You're talking to my mom and looking at me. My mom then strategically leaves because she "forgot something." But oh, the cashier scans a bottle of wine, and um, I look pretty 19 I guess. Shit. I have to call out to my mom to come back. Well now you know I'm not over 21. Feeling less cool, but still kinda hot because you keep looking at me.

So my mom asks about getting me a job there and you (lie and) say it's fun because later on you tell me you just said that so I'd work there. She chit chats you up and down and I look at you up and down. As the last items are being bagged, there is a longing look exchanged but no words because I think either one of us are wondering if these small collected moments within the last 30 minutes are worth pinning down into another possible moment. We both just kind of hold our breath. As I walk away, I look over my shoulder, just one more time at you, and your long eyelashes catch this. You mention later that this was a telling moment for you, had I not done this, you would have remained uncertain. Then I walk away. A little skip in my step and heart.

I felt something here. I felt a produce aisle connection. I think in most of these situations people are supposed to kind of store it in the small private moments vault of their mind, but I was tired of being so patient with people. I had been shy for so long and the last boy I was with pulled on my patience so much that I forgot that love could be fun. So I went a little out of my way. I posted a missed connections for you on craigslist. Hah! It was silly, but I thought why not? You probably won't even see it. And then...so what then? I was just putting it out there. Take from it what you will craigslist universe.

I received an email response back not from you oddly enough, but from a coworker. My Guess Who way of describing you had worked. This 40 something lonely coworker who made it a nighty habit of scrolling through missed connections, I would assume in the hopes that someone would miss him, found my post that described the grocery store meeting of eyes. I was shocked. He said he thought he knew who I was talking about and would tell him the next day. Ummm...okay! Imagine having some moment like this and then your random coworker a couple days later coming up to you and reminding you of the incident because it was published in a small corner of the internet in the hopes that it could be relived again. So then the lonely coworker responded to me again, just to make sure I had the right young man, and it was a tennis match email exchange until I was given my shopping cart cowboy's Myspace information. (remember myspace?)

As if I wasn't stalking you enough, I found your myspace and looked at your pictures and felt undeniable tangles of excitement inside. I clicked to send you a message. "Hi." is all I said.

You replied shortly after. "Hi? That's it? Haha. How's my little stalker? You know I don't usually do this, but if you want to hang out sometime, here's my number."
This is when I got up and let my body be excited and did a victory dance.  Then I texted you, cuz yeah, I got your number. You were impressed and surprised, romanced by my internet gestures. We met later that night. You told me you usually wait to kiss someone, but let's be honest, this encounter could make an exception. We drove to a pretty night view of all the bay and its sparkling lights and you looked at me in such a way that smiled and said "I just can't get over this" and I couldnt either. Here we are. I made it happen, well you played a part too I suppose. We laughed at eachother, happy to be outside of a grocery store and out into a sparkling night, with a sparked blunt and a growing high. We went back to your apartment and you grabbed me and I let myself be grabbed. I folded into your chest. Our lips climbed the walls of passion. It felt poetic and fierce. Sweet too, with a bite. I had been waiting for something like this. It was all a surprise. We felt alive. It was a kiss you don't forget. It was one that felt of gratitude- thank you for finding me, thank you for being here! For lifting me from a sleepy summer. I really felt your arms around me, there was nothing weak about it. There was force and wanting and then a spreading ease. This is just what I want right now. You're just what I need right now. Fresh fire wrapped around each other. I left for home very late that night.

A few days later we would go out again. This song started playing in your car. It was the first time I had heard it.


It felt like a scene from a movie. I watched pictures speed by with golden hills melting behind me. My skin was hot from the sun earlier. I put my sweaty palms down against my tan legs and breathed in, full of 19 year old optimism and excitement.

I was high in all kinds of ways -the illegal kind, the lust kind, the youth kind. You were driving and I didn't have to worry about anything for the duration of this song. I am not controlling the speed of this machine I am sitting in, I have no control of this feeling sweeping over me. I'm smiling a smile that can be felt again when remembering this, oh but never the same, you know. My hair streaked behind me in the wind, leaving behind my hometown for the night, leaving behind my heavy hearted ex boyfriend to wonder, leaving behind insecurities little by little. You are driving fast. I am feeling fast.  Maybe we'll have sex tonight. This hot and sweet summer air has me drunk. You're old enough to buy me a drink if I want and if you want. and you do. This speed and this music and taste of smoke in my mouth has me feeling unbreakable. I feel so fucking cool. You seem so fucking cool. You have an apartment. You drive fast and buy me drinks. You kiss like ive always wanted to kiss. You open up a passion I thought I would not undress again for awhile. You are a reason, but I am the cause of this moment. My heart is free. I'm free to do whatever I want! I will remember this.

chills

I love that I can get chills by hearing something. That I feel so many sensations in my brain, so many feelings that I don't even know how to process all of them.

I love how the mind and body influence each other in this way.

[It is your parasympathetic nervous system reacting to extremely high stimulation in parts of your brain. 

In other words, when you see that amazing performance, (or hear something emotional) so many parts of your cortex are activated, overloaded with visual stimulation, emotion, and (if you are a performer as well) some subconscious motor cortex reactions. So many things happening at once causes a chain reaction of firing neurons throughout your brain, which can spill into your parasympathetic nervous system, which basically controls your reflexes. (getting goosebumps is a reflex) ]

fire sign

kinda sucks. just started writing it this morning. it has potential...just like me?

When I was young,
I didnt know it was there.
I always thought
It wasnt.
That's it.
I'm not like that.
I thought passion was a dream.
I was so shy,
Achingly so.
I felt quiet
and underwater.
I read in books and saw in movies
About those looks that people give each other,
Looks that mean more than words,
Looks that say "I want what you have,
Please give it to me."
Please.
I felt I would never know this.
I felt carefully contained.
Those who knew me
Knew this wasnt right.
As my ideas started to grow,
It began to too.
It started humble
as sparks of self esteem do.
It started to smoke and be
Hot with confidence.
People want to know me.
People want to care.
People want more of me
That I didnt know was there.
Because this is so new and fresh,
Because this is such a shaking to the shy,
I feel drunk with curiosity.
I want to touch every hot surface.
I want to break hearts and limits,
Have what I never thought I could
Just to have it.
I want to be a pirate of feelings,
To take it all, lust and loyalty,
Drink it down and sigh.
I want to make you laugh so hard it hurts
But I'll keep my distance
In case you cause me pain.
I was so afraid of it before,
But it was always inside,
Just not tendered by me.
I put it in a box,
So I wouldnt fuck it up,
But you can't hide for too long.
I just wanted to feel pretty,
And now I feel chaos.
Now I feel a different fear.
I dont know how to direct it,
This fire inside,
Catching to the trees of my mind.
The innocence of my past
Has turned to black.
I want some of it back.
I've wanted too much,
I can't go back.
I feel out of control,
Out of reach.
All I feel is flames.
Nobody can really touch me.
Nobody can really save me,
Or maybe I'm too shy to ask.

You're not going to have time;
you're going to be busy being a good person
doing responsible things,
making money & paying bills on time,
reading what you're supposed to.
You're going to be approachable & dependable,
you will complete your tasks,
start projects without being asked.
You will button up your shirts,
you will stand tall as you are,
shave your face & say polite remarks.
You will stay smart
pulling out polished words.
You're not going to have time for my nonsense.
I'm going to be busy being a confused person
doing reckless things,
spending money & being late,
not finishing chapters.
I'm going to be lovingly cold & distant,
I will not finish what I've started,
I will leave without being asked,
I will undress
& I will stand smaller than my potential.
I will shave my legs & cuss,
I will stay confused
speaking words that bump into each other,
but I could love you
if you have the time.

marilyn monroe

Marilyn, on the other hand, was more vulnerable. This made her a great actress onscreen, in the boardroom and in the bedroom, but she was also more affected by the rough-and-tumble nature of the real world, says Keogh. A “Marilyn” woman falls in love like a teenager would — instantly and wholeheartedly. But afterwards, she might get bored and lose interest just as quickly. Unlike a “Jackie,” the “Marilyn” type is capable of enduring the company of an old beau — even if it’s someone who may have betrayed her. “Having had her heart broken, she understands forgiveness and the vagaries of the human condition,” says Keogh. “However, with her emotional fragility, sometimes a ‘Marilyn’ gal gets overwhelmed by the harshness of the world and can’t get out of bed. Sometimes she drinks a little more than she should, and sometimes she cries. However, because of her open-hearted nature, the world — and, of course, men — love her immensely.

First, a “Marilyn” will generally require a lot of ego stroking due to her emotionally tender nature; and second, nearly every man in the entire world will go after her because she’s such a sexpot.

… she’s got beauty, baggage and all, says Keogh. Interestingly, the type of man who falls for a “Marilyn” is usually happy to do so —