elephant shoes

i was gonna be perfect…was gonna make my love feel like the first time you rode your bike without training wheels- kneel before you every day like there was no one else before you. cause i’ve heard your heart beat like that breeze that could bring any violence to its knees & the best lines i’ve ever written? i plagiarized every word from the thoughts of yours i heard while you were just sittin in silence staring up at mars… but you never wish on shooting stars, you wish on the ones that have the courage to shine where they are no matter how dark the night, no matter how hard the fight.

how now do i turn away from that light, when i wanted to be eighty with you? birth babies like poems with you& let them write themselves. wanted to hold your heart to my ear like a sea-shell til i could hear the tides of every tear you’ve ever cried, then build islands in the seas of your eyes so you’d see there’s land to swim to
hold your hand& say storms are born from the same sky we write hymns to when the sun shines. sometimes it takes tempests to wake rainbows that will wind our pain into halos. i was gonna carve your name into my wrist so my pulse could kiss you. was gonna love you so well…

i’d wake every morning& tell you things like this…

“bliss is the moments you’re with me, when your gone my life hurts like hell but i’ll do anything to make you happy. even if it means setting you free

…to be with someone else”

word to the wise

my mother taught me something. she said if you repeat something over & over again it loses its meaning. & our existence is the same way. you watch the sunset too often, it just becomes 6 pm. you make the same mistake over & over, you’ll stop calling it a mistake. & if you just wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up.. one day you’ll forget why.

“nothing is forever” she said

…. & i’m beginning to think that it’s time for a change. i’m getting a lil tired of this same old song & dance

fragile

he is like a cardboard box. although he is in brown, or prefabricated or even a square by any means… he still has the word fragile written up the side of his stomach. his hands? they looked like spiders, like lonely spiders trying to find something to hold on to. they wove webs between my fingers, & found peace within my palms. these spiders told me stories of infinity, passion,& teenage hearts. he was like a canvas- & we all know that blank canvases wear masterpieces uncomfortably, looking pretty artsy& intriguing from the outside but leaving white spaces to learn what it means to be forgotten, constrained, & suffocated- blank surfaces feel the pressure under picasso’s paint brush. pushing colors into insufficient spaces… making bare canvas boys into works of art.

& he is just a tender boy, but his hands told my body stories behind locked doors. they told me stories of mistakes made in the past, & guarantees the ones he’s gonna make in the future. & i was just another girl, & he was just another boy, & we were two awkward teenagers stumbling upon reasons, trying to find significance tattooed on each other’s tongues. but together? we were somebody.

i remember the first time i noticed that he was broken. he tasted like glass& looked like scissors. it was early january, 8 yrs ago. he was misunderstood& i know that i should’ve been careful… but the way his guitar tuned the strings of my heart felt all too perfect to be dangerous. the way his jaw cocked& loaded every time we kissed felt all to perfect to be dangerous. the was his hazel eyes broke down my body, naked& vulnerable…. the way he told me he loved me felt all too dangerous to be perfect.

& if art is beauty, then we were van gogh splattered across the sunset. & if art is truth, then we were monet streaked across the skylight. & if art is God, then we were picasso cascading blackened stars across the universe, exploding like a glance, like a gun, like a star with a flick of a paintbrush into infinity. he taught me what it felt like to rip myself open, unbuttoning my insecurities& unzipping my skin like paper to find my heart lying there soaked in inexperience& blood… he taught me what it felt like to have a heartbeat.

& now i don’t know whether i should hate him or love him for what he did to me. our relationships were filled with games, you see. he& i? we pretended like he would stick around& acted like i wouldn’t care if he stayed or left. we acted like we knew what we were doing because we thought that we did. & now i wish a lot of things. i wish i could’ve stained his hip bones with the pattern of promises i told him. i wish i could’ve tarnished his forearm with the rustic remembrance of what once was. & i wish that saying i love you was half as easy as writing it is.

 … but he was so god damn fragile & i was just a girl left behind to talk to cardboard boxes that made me feel like he was still listening- like he still cared. & i told him that i loved him, that i missed him. & now many years have passed& the only thing i feel that i have left to say is thank you

& that i only wish the best for him <3

something to talk about

Ok.

What to talk about… I haven’t been much of a blogger in the past few months, but i consider myself a heavy thinker.

This does not mean i ponder on profound things throughout my day. Just in volume, i have quite the menagerie of odd thoughts. Unfortunately I have nothing to show for it, cus usually i just forget about it. So this is my effort to make my thoughts last. There will be no organization or order because there just is none.

Sooooo…I ask you blogging fools…

1. Why do parents insist that THEIR kid is unique?

2. Why is it that when you ask someone what kind of music they listen to, it’s always “i listen to everything”. That’s a fat fucking lie.

3. Why is it “emo” to play folk music with lyrics consisting of awkward love tales but it’s absolutely hip to say things like “she move like a boss, do what a boss do”?

4. Why is it easy to wrap your head around the idea of life being short..yet it’s so hard to apply that concept in your day-to-day life?

5. I’m confused as to why nipples are blurred out on tv. Just the nipples. Why? The remaining 90% of the boob is totally fine. As LONG as the nipples aren’t showing. That’s just never going to make sense. I hope dicks won’t be all over television with blurred pee holes cus that won’t pass for me.

6. Wanting to be single? I understand. Cheating? I just don’t get it. Why is it so hard for people to be honest these days? Leaving out information is exactly the same as lying dumb fucks. Play another game where hearts aren’t involved. Take time to become a better person, not a better lay. Get a massage. Take a nap. Eat a banana. Don’t fucking cheat& stop leading people on. Its cruel& inconsiderate.

I’d like to leave you with a mental note of a blurred pee hole. =D

Goodnight

take over control

sometimes it’s easier to pretend that things are okay, rather than face a difficult truth. so we go through the motions, the rituals of everyday life. we hope the comfortable rhythms of familiarity will hold off the inevitable just a little longer; return things to normal, anything to buy us more time. playing pretend, make believe, it might be the one thing we never outgrow.

the more things change, the more they stay the same. i’m not sure who the first person was who said that, probably shakespeare, sounds like something he’d say. but at the moment its the sentence that best explains my tragic flaw; my inability to change. i don’t think i’m alone in this, the more i get to know other people, the more i realize it’s kind of everyones flaw. staying exactly the same, for as long as possible, standing perfectly still, it feels better somehow. & if you’re suffering, at least the pain is familiar. because if you took that leap of faith, went outside the box, did something unexpected, who knows what other pain might be waiting out there, chances are it could be even worse. so you maintain the status quo, choose the road already travelled. & it doesn’t seem that bad, not as far as flaws go, you’re not a drug addict, you’re not killing anyone - except maybe yourself a little. 

they say that patience is a virtue, & that good things comes to those who wait … but they also say that he who hesitates, is lost. the only way to get a change, is to actually change. 

cheers to a new attitude& perspective

now, i don’t know if i can change the world yet, because i don’t know that much about it. & i don’t know that much about this life & how we’re supposed to spend our time here either. & sometimes, it scares me because everyone makes it seem like if you’re not doing some GREAT with your life, then you’re not going anywhere& what you’re doing really doesn’t matter. because if you’re not super woman, you’re not saving the world which just makes you an average jane& who ever remembers the average jane? 

so yeah, that scares me… but if you make me laugh hard enough, sometimes i will forget what century i’m in& then i realize that whatever is going on right now really isn’t written in stone. & making mistakes? that’s what growing is all about, it’s about evolving& changing& even though i might not change the world. it is pretty fucking amazing that i can change myself. i can be a better person, regardless of the mistakes i made in the past. i’m not persfect, but i LIKE that about myself. i like that i mess shit up, & that i get things wrong. i don’t now much about the after life& religon, but i do believe in reincarnation. & so i believe that this isn’t my first time here& this isn’t my last time here& these aren’t the last words i’ll share. but just in case?… i am trying my hardest to get it right this time around. & i really believe that, that is really all that matters. regardless of what all those judgemental mouths are sayin. i like my life& i love myself- which is more than some of the people out there, who have more than me& have acomplished more than me, can say.& that is something to be proud of

at least, that’s something that i’m proud of

note to self

i know you are feeling frightened about what is gonna happen next, but don’t be. embrace the uncertainty. allow it to lead you places. be brave as it challenges you to exercise both your heart& your mind. use this experience to create your own path towards happiness. don’t waste time with regret. spin wildly into your next action. enjoy the present, each moment, as it comes; because you’ll never get another one quite like it. & if you should ever look up& find yourself lost, simply take a breath& start over. retrace your steps& go back to the purest place in your heart… where your hope lives. & don’t worry so much, you’ll find your way again.

just give it a lil hope& a lil time.

afterall, that’s all anyone really needs <3

perhaps

i have developed quite a keen eye for the-bigger-picture perspective.
things are going to be thrown at you left& right. things you don’t
want to deal with. things you wish you would’ve avoided; things you’d give
your last dime to change. but sometimes there’s just simply no
negotiating with life..as “Life” nods no & points with urgency to a
clock, inferring that you better get moving cus time sure as hell still
is. time is not a friend. no, it kind of plays that role… similar to that
of a parent. you know there are those parents that try to be “friends”
with their kids, but having done that they’ve lost all respect for
you as an authority figure. so the means of bettering your children is
making them hate you at times. time is that. i guess you’d say it’s a
love/hate relationship. 

&i find it amazing that every single person on this earth has a point of view that somehow involves the world revolving around them. billions of people, grazing shoulders, all in our own little reality tv show.

Starring: You

& we’re so caught up in our special little lives..making point in making them as eventful as possible, that we can’t even see beyond ourselves.. see the bigger picture. it’s like walking down a crowded street, with your head full of you-thoughts, thinking about what you’re going to do today, where you’re going to eat dinner…who you’ll bump into at the store. even just thinking about how good it’ll feel to get off work before you even start work. you’re walking down that crowded street& if you try, breaking that threshold on your imagination, to visualize a helicopter view of yourself, could you even pick out who you are? which moving
black dot are you? from high up everyone looks the same. cus everyone
IS the same& no one’s more human than anyone else….

point? perhaps we should all start thinking about someone other than ourselves. i dunno, what do you think?

perhaps?