Sunday, November 13, 2011

Wilde at Heart

You, Mr. Wilde...

Literally imprisoned for following the desires of the heart and body. His brilliance resonates and rings true to the souls of those held under the thumb of convention and social expectation.

Your pen or quill or whatever... a weapon indeed.

Oh Oscar, I am silenced, bitterly silenced, by emotions overwhelming. No place else to turn but to the words of poets past, reading prose like biblical canons. Salvation in the confessions of a heart drunk on forlorn circumstance. Again, I am not alone.

Genuflect before the Picture of Dorian Gray. Through you, I learn The Importance of Being Earnest.

Perhaps my life is a lesson to a young man or an older woman 100 years from now. Perhaps the cross I bear will make it easier for the next person to carry their own knowing they aren't carrying it alone.

Big Picture.

Thank you, Oscar. I do adore you.

Silentium Amoris

by Oscar Wilde

As often-times the too resplendent sun
Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won
A single ballad from the nightingale,
So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,
And all my sweetest singing out of tune.

And as at dawn across the level mead
On wings impetuous some wind will come,
And with its too harsh kisses break the reed
Which was its only instrument of song,
So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.

But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Existential Downtime: Darwin's 5 Possible Outcomes and Dealing With The Monkey Shit Life Throws at You.

Ahhh FML, yo...ferreal...

When did life turn into a game of dodgeball? With every stupid ball thrown, I find myself scattering left and right and dipping and ducking to survive the constant changes happening on what seems like a daily basis at this point. Do I catch the ball and fight back, do I drop low and hope they sail overhead or do I just let that stupid tether ball smack me in the eye... Maybe a little of all three?

I suppose change is inevitable. I suppose the manner in which we respond to change depends on the individual's response or/and the severity of a changing situation.

Charles Darwin's 5 possible outcomes to a change of environment or circumstance comes to mind when I think about how to deal with changes in life:

Do we allow parts of ourselves to cease functioning for the sake of survival when accepting a new and unfamiliar situation?

Do we continue to grow alongside others as they mutate, forcing us to mutate accordingly in order to exist in a confined area amidst the spectrum of a changing situation?

Do we find our strengths within the face of change to co-exist with others that provide complementary strengths in order to survive as a community?

Do we spread ourselves out and find options within the face of change?  Should we seek other aspects in life with the hopes of finding a place to grow into a completely different person?

Do we surrender to the past and allow ourselves to slowly drift into a ghost of what we once were because the inevitable changes life presents frightens us, angers us...or we just resist...?

The more I think about it, the balance of all five is ideally human. Accepting change and giving up a part of yourself in order to adapt. Living alongside someone and absorbing his changes so that you can grow alongside him. Finding your strengths and seeing how the strengths of others around you can help you to survive. Making sure that you don't turn your back on opportunities that present the ability to grow in new ways never thought of. Honoring the past and seeing the road taken and how the road can prepare you for today....

They all can work hand in hand, can't they?

Just some thoughts...

*end transmission*

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

Why I like Nice Guys....and the Reason Ain't So Nice.

To quote myself:

"Nice guys finish last because they're too focused on giving everyone around them a head start..."

Not sure what this has to do with this post, but I think that's a brilliant goddam quote. *pat on the back*

So, I'm over here thinking about all of the times I've heard from "nice guys" that they have a problem staying out of the friend zone and getting the woman that they might want.

Well, what I have learned is thaaaat nice guys are attracted to some fucked up women. Just like how nice girls are attracted to some serious assholes. Perhaps their is a certain level of fear-otica involved? Perhaps the danger aspect of having your emotions tossed into a centrifuge and leaving you leveled, in debt and possibly with a new baby has something to do with it.

Who knows?

All I KNOW is that nice guys either don't like me or I turn them into assholes.

Assholes can't get enough of me. I tame them and make them beg...never giving them anything because I don't like them. But I do adore the challenge of bringing the asshole out of a nice guy. New hobby...

Who is this callous bitch that I have become? I'm not the kind of bitch that usually comes with the title of "wife". No, I'm so fucking cold hearted that I don't even recognize myself anymore. Dear God, I have been through the fucking wringer with these fucking men. Good thing that I am a fan of karma, because I could really see myself becoming some kind of serial killer of men.

So, instead of picking up an axe or a revolver, I write:

They way they glare at me...hungry. The remarks they make about my cleavage and my mouth. Fuck Puppet extreme..seriously it fucking hurts when I want to believe that I am so much more. Well, I used to be more. Now, I'm not sure. Maybe they can sense that I've surrendered and no longer seek relationships and love. Maybe they can smell me when I am just exceptionally horny. Walking in a skirt, satin panties, feeling the lips of my kitty rub against the other...subtle oozing of sex. My wetness. Walking into the convenience store to buy a scratch off game and my smokes. They all turn their heads, nostrils flaring, pupils rapidly dilating....sniffing harder. Approaching me with their off-color advances. Some stumbling into the coffee pots and creamers. Other's looking fearful. Some bold enough to ask for my number.

They are all denied...and I walk away, leaving a trail of sex behind me. Their eyes follow me out of the door.

But it isn't love. It's a carnal desire for sex and conquest. When they look at me, they never see love. They see a whore, a mistress, a woman that might do things that other women won't.

As the voice of the ghost of what I once was trails faintly from millions of miles above me, "I just want somebody to love me..."...repeated... as I recklessly descend into the deep pitch black....until I hear nothing but the steady hum of my own self-loathing, malice and discontent. The familiar, bitter taste of reproach soothes the palette.

Oh, sweet surrender into lustful oblivion. A different kind of numbing.

Fuck me until I hurt. Fuck me until you split me in two. Make me forget about love. About these so called "nice guys". Turn off the lights. Get rid of this hope.

Maybe one day I will meet a nice guy at that convenience store...and he'll sniff me out. He'll be shy about approaching me. Maybe I'll walk up to him, put his hand up my skirt and take him to the men's room. Maybe ...I'll let this nice guy fuck me.  And if he does, he won't be a nice guy anymore.

I want to make him thrust harder and harder as we experience violent fucking into le petit muer. The  further stabbing of my own dead, hopeless heart. The asphyxiation of his decency. The nice guy drowned to death in a pool of his own semen.

Maybe letting him fuck me is murder in an abstract sense. Slaying his stoic sensibilities and aptitude for Godly justice in a way. Making him see the truth. He's just an animal. Just like me.

Death by sex, the numbers increase. The nice guys have gone missing. Keep your doting husbands, super boyfriends and wonderful sons locked indoors. Call out an APB. There might be a serial killer on the loose after all.

Nice guys like to complain about getting the short end of the stick, but I am convinced that deep within the heart of every "nice guy" lays an asshole just screaming to get out. They're just too afraid of letting go...that's when they look at me.

The way they smell me, I can sniff them out, too.

Am I even the prey anymore? Not even a little bit.

What have I become....

Well, maybe everyone, when stripped to the core is pretty much an asshole given enough beat downs by life to make them hate the light of day or cringe at the sound of laughter or break into hives at displays of love.

Or maybe not. Maybe I'm the only cold-hearted, asshole bitch with nothing to lose and a lot of darkness within me clawing its way out every day. I can feel my skin burn underneath from that devil woman's nails scratching to get out of my body.

I fear for the world. The scariest thing a man can ever confront is a woman that no longer gives a fuck.

*fun times*

Sunday, March 27, 2011

How do I taste?

Not bitter, I hope. 

Here's a cute video of a kitten. Enjoy! Hugs and Kisses.

Hahaha... cute widdew kitty in da frijerator...

Saturday, February 19, 2011

A Toast to the Fellas! Cheers.....

Dear Men,

I am just a young woman trying to navigate my way through this life like anyone else. Unfortunately, I feel that your gender has complicated my natural state of being due to persistent bitchassness and bullshit.

I was once a girl with the potential to be a loving, supportive, generous matriarch with an insatiable appetite to please the right man in every shape, form and position. Nothing would have given me more satisfaction than to welcome my man home from work with a blow job and a steak dinner cooked with my own delicate hands.

Now that I am in my thirties, however, I have gone from pink to a steel, titanium gray. I no longer have the desire to be feminine as I have been forced to become one of you.

Today, I tried to put on lip gloss and eyeliner and shit but I couldn’t do it. Why? Because progressively, throughout the day, I grew a humongous set of great, big, undulating hairy testicles and a fifteen-inch cock.

I was alarmed. Needless to say, I did what many do when they can't cope with unforeseen circumstances. 

I bought a bottle of (fill in the blank booze here).

Grab a glass... I'll pour a snifter or two...

Ready? Let's do this...

Yes, men out there…Here’s a Toast:

For all of the times you let a door slam in my face when walking behind you into the local Radio Shack – for all the times you’ve made hissing noises and crude gestures towards me while I was out and about with my kids – for all the times you stared me down like a bloodthirsty jackal while in the presence of your significant other – for all the times you cowered at the threat of my accomplishments and tried to cut me down with disparaging remarks – for all the times you were amidst a sea of male photojournalists and you chose my neck to step on in order to get the perfect shot…

For all of the times you’ve raped me…

For all of the times you’ve swung at me, thrown laptops at me and did permanent damage to my right knee…

For all of the times you’ve told me you loved me and then disappeared…

For all of the times you’ve taken pieces of me and never embraced the whole me…

For all of the times you’ve left me hanging…

For all of the times you've taken my dark skin as a warrior’s armor, able to withstand the toughest blows…

For all of the times you’ve called me a bitch and a whore for not complying…

For all of the times you lied and lied and said you loved me…

For all of the times you’ve left me  alone to care for our kids without a dime of support or your presence to make them whole positively…

For all of the times you were supposed to be my protector, but chose to side with my assailant…

For all of the times you opened me up and left me alone as vulnerable prey….

For all of the times you made promises and broke them…

For all of the times you expected my solidarity despite your infidelity…

For all of the times you forced me to question my beauty because I didn’t live up to your Hollywood-hyped television standards….

For all of the times you left me in the cold, unclad and bleeding from the inside…

For all of the times you ate me up just to defecate me out…

For all of the times I gave you my love and you spat upon my very most fundamental emotion…

For all of the times you colored my pink black…

Here’s to you, MEN.


Thanks for helping to cultivate me into the strong, vicious she-male I am today…

Balls the size of co-co-nuts and a great big dick that’s hungry to tear some anus…

Thanks for your cold shoulder, because it has turned me into the Ice Queen I have always needed to be…

Romance? Fuck that…hugs and kisses are for ladies? Me? I am no longer a lady by any means. I am the most dangerous being in the world. I'm one of you...

Once a woman who wanted a caring love, then a woman denied. Funny how the formula works.

I have no choice…Thanks for not giving me any OPTIONS, Men…

So, while you sit wrapped up in your self delusion, comfort and complacency…lying in your mother’s basement or childhood bedroom or underneath that Venus of Willendorf bosom of your significant other…suckling your way into selective memory…

Remember… you turned a bonafide DIAMOND into a Coal Miner…

Have another shot. I know I will…and I’ll drink your ass under the table.

Best wishes,

Your Protégé.

Saturday, January 29, 2011

Pretty Baby. Let's go.

I am here.

Went window shopping for a new bike and I had this Blondie classic on repeat on my iPod.  Couldn't help but to ask myself what is attracting me to bikes these days so passionately? I've always had an affinity for bikes and muscle cars (novice gear head that I am) and then it dawned on me:

 I am replacing love with vibrating steel that will always be there. Where this bike might break my budget, I'll be confident that it won't break my heart. Plus, I can straddle and ride it as long as I want and we'll "arrive" together every time. ;)

Downside to finding my new love is that I might have to break out the chapstick and kneepads to come up with enough bread to bring this bad boy home.

Meet my new future boyfriend:
2009 Moto Guzzi vintage-repl. California Touring Bike...In homage to the heartbreaker of all heartbreakers, Mr. James Dean. Although, it does have Brando quality about it. Doesn't it?

For your musical entertainment, as you envision beautiful me straddling this painfully sexy machine and riding it into the beyond, my inspiration to GO. Miss Harry, let 'em have it.

I fell in love with you...

Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Universal Jewels: 11 Tips for the Heart in 2011

--on rotation: SPREAD, Outkast, The LoVe BeloW --

The Universe taught me a few lessons on how to "refine my heart" in 2010. With open eyes and newfound wisdom, I know how to define healthy love. Hopefully, these painful lessons learned will save many of you some heartache.
  1. A person who chooses to leave your life is not worth crying over. Anyone that can turn his/her back from the magnificence that is your LOVE, that is YOU, never truly loved you in the first place. Cut your losses and hold onto your proven ability to love without depths, love without conditions. Your love was too big for someone so small. Remember that.

  1. A good lover should enhance your positive attributes and make it effortless to dissolve negative energy. Compromise for growth as one, not sacrifice your identity to soothe your lover's insecurity.

  1. You should never have to choose between intimacy and security. Love should be the glue that binds both qualities seamlessly.

  1. It is utterly impossible to accept and reciprocate the greatness of what love has to offer and what love can be if you have no love of self. If you have no love of self, you'll never feel worthy of such a blessing that love is.

  1. Be mindful of people that casually use the word love. It is a word that should be held sacred and only uttered when the sayer is prepared to truly embrace the responsibility of truly loving you.

  1. If you fall in love, make sure the the person will be there to catch you. Falling on your face hurts pretty damn bad and your face will never quite look the same again.

  1. Love and Hate exist upon the same infinite litmus strip of passion. There is no limit to either emotion and no defining threshold of change. Levels of passion can run up and down the scale and change at whim depending on the conditions of which the heart is kept.

  1. Hate is not the opposite of Love. Indifference is the Opposite. You cannot hate without the presence of passion or the disappointment of failed Love.

  1. Love without fear, but never love a coward fearlessly. You will go from hero to fool in a matter of moments.

  1. Hearts don't break. Hearts are muscles and a strenuous workout from a lover that's hurt you will only make your heart beat stronger. I promise. It is not the end of the world.

  1. Treat your heart like the last pink diamond. Keep it on display for the world to see how beautiful your love truly is, but make sure you have laser sight technology surrounded that bitch to take out intruders. 

All my LOVE, faithful readers. There is Love abound. Some real, some counterfeit (thanks Dana!), keep your eyes and your heart open. 2011 - the Cinderella Year