Quite the Epiphany

Staring blankly at the page, I light up my first cigarette. It has been almost a year since I quit. While the pain is crippling me with each passing moment, my face still reflects a smile. I muster up the courage to move forward so that I can release myself; I pour a glass of brandy while he waits. After all, it is only Death that comes to see me. I have seen worse and I have lived to tell it.

The first time we crossed paths was long ago. I was barely 10 years old, but I was given a choice then. We haven't seen each other in a long time since. He disguised himself well, but he scared me all the same. I was too young to understand at the time that he would be my only solace and companion throught it all. And I tested Death daily as I grew older. He would stay close during each of my ventures, prompting me to urge for more. It was when I turned 20 that even he couldn't entertain me. The game was getting old. I was getting old. I wanted Life. But he had other things in store for me.

Desperate and impatient, my new comfort became closets. I was obsessed with them. In the dark crevices of each, I would conceal my dark secrets, my hidden desires, and my blatant disregard for people. I preferred a strong drink, a forbidden drug, or a loud song, with a good conquest to close the closet for the day and a cool dip in the ocean to refresh myself at night. Feelings were not a consideration, nor were they up for discussion. Benefits were my priority. Did I have to care? They were provided with all they requested of me wihtout question. I just played along. Foolish heart to see different, for I was merely a reflection of their imagination.

I never asked for love, I took it. It replenished me. It motivated me, but it never moved me. My heart was never involved. That was never an option. I could not give you something I never had. That ever-beating, lasting impression that exemplifies Life (and Love). I despised it. I was an empty shell that harbored a beating heart, but my heart maintained itself with despair. If you sought me out, don't blame me. I became what you wanted and then I moved on; you should have known better if you thought you could tame me. You should have known better.

That is when Life stepped in. She was beautiful. She was awe-inspiring and she was mine. Before she came to be, anyone could have her. And there would be quite a few who would dared to challenge to own her, but I fled to keep her selfishly for me. Her tiny eyes sought me for security. Her fragile arms held me close during the night. Like a wild animal, I kept her close and I attacked anyone who would come near her. She was the one who brought me back to life.

She was the Life that I needed and it was a rush like I never experienced before. I found myself aching to seek out knowledge so that I can share it with her. I worked to provide an education for myself in her name, to nurture her, and to be her companion forever. It was my selfishness that clouded my Life in the end. It was my heart's turn to be broken. That is where I truly experienced pain. It was displayed through the eyes of another; a Life that I brought into this world had betrayed me.

I created a family in an effort to sustain her. I created another life in order to entertain her. I chained myself in order to secure her, and I sacrificed my very essence in an effort to protect who she became. She left me all the same and she betrayed me. Death found another opportunity to knock on my door. I left the door unlocked this time in order to welcome him. I wanted to know what he had to offer. It turned out that he was never out to kill me. I did a fine job doing that on my own. Rather, he was waiting patiently for that first Life to leave me so that so that I could realize I had a Life all along.


He realized that I was in pain. He knew I was hiding behind medcations. He knew I lost my strength and my resolve, so he came to take me away. I was not afraid of his determination. He has been by my side through it all. I lit up another cigarette as I considered his aggressive decision. He was saving me from myself all along. As I let the last drop of brandy drop from my lips, it become clear to me that Death only meant Life for another. And it was time for the old me to die so that I could move on. Quite the epiphany if I say so myself...

"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep; If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul do take" (recollection of a prayer from childhood)

Forgotten Dolls

So many years, I have been so many people; locked in a box made of glass; perhaps they were mirrors reflecting the needs of another, as my needs were of the lowest class;




In darkness I gaze at my hands while they motion the next victim to come unto me - Venus fly trap, a black widow spider perhaps, I would sting their hearts ever gracefully.



Dancing in circles, a child unloved; no welcoming, just receiving a fist. Dazed and confused, I continued the dark path and added yet another to my list.



They never know me, they haven't a care; lusting to touch me, abusing me everywhere... until the doll was only representative of despair.



My hair is now matted and my heart has no beat; My arms are scarred from the blades of the street.



The doll had no dollhouse no friendship or calling; just the chill of dark tears as she felt herself falling....

Infinity

If you have no friendship,
there is no passion;
without passion there is no love,
without love there is no friendship

Is Anybody There?

Sacrificing all, hiding shyly in vain
Wasting time while enduring the pain
Besides the guilt, I have little to gain
By the time you reach me, I'll already be slain...

Lares

I took a drive one day to find the poor faces that I heard of; each face instead displayed a sense of pride - a glow of intense love; To think that I would dare complain when they have so much more than me - a plywood box that they call home, this family of three.




They share no battle, there is no fear, content to have each other; as I drove on I was greeted by so many - no shoes or food - happy to have a mother; I finally reached the place I searched for, way atop a hill; a cemetary with a view of all, the bones are glistening still.



Here we stand, in luxury appalled, trying to convince ourselves they would feel better in different places. Never mind we are the hypocrites who thrive on others' disgraces.



If you take a deeper look you will realize it is you that has already fallen; back into the earth that you worked to keep for so long just to find a grave to crawl in.

Take My Name and Shove It

Thrown into a rage against diabolical odds.

Thinking inside regarding all differences outside.

Though inherent, I refuse any distinguishing overtures.

Time is indicative of reality assuming a distaste for others.

Take it reactively, anticipate desire openly

Tomorrow is insightful; reassuring attitude, demeanor and order

Observe... T.I.R.A.D.O.

Hey

It has been a while since I last wrote you. I feel as though these last few months have disabled my persona. There is a wild spirit within my psychological confines who cries out to be set free. During the day, I am restless and hyper. At night, visions of pain and torment haunt my dreams. A never-ending reminder that you cannot heal through concealment. Notwithstanding, I am satisfied within my current confines. My mask may conceal my opinion, but my eyes always give me away. 

My only consolation is that my children feel secure. They have stability and an unshaken foundation that defines a real mother who protects her own without condition and without regret. They are content.

If You Ever Hear These, Run!!!

Honey, I'm sorry
But it's so late
I just got mine
Can't you wait?

I don't feel good
You took too long to come to bed
Why are you so angry?
Sure, you can give me head

He makes up all these excuses
only wishing for a "pucker"
You are never worth the effort to him
because he is a fist fucker!

Sad

Sad,

I gave you all my soul. I only wanted you to feel loved by me.

Sad,

I ended up the fool, waiting with a smile, hoping you would return my love some day.

Sad,

That we could digress. That you thought time would mend me. That I would forget.

Sad,

You believe I can accept it. That you prefer yourself to me.

Sad,

During all this destruction, you lost me.

Up, Up and Away!

It just dawned on me. The reason why we stay in our obviously destructive relationships is due to fear. The fear of starting over, the fear of waking in the middle of the night to find yourself alone. Worse yet, imagine getting drunk and phoning the bastard (or bitch) that dumped you (or you just dumped) to confess that you are feeling lonely.  Now how pathetic would that be? Blame it on the booze...

Let me give you a word of advice - you get over it faster than you realize it. For some of us (namely me), we cannot admit defeat. We would rather lick  our wounds and experience more emotional injury than admit to the reality that we are in an all-fails affair. We probably are bum magnets. Why, we smoke them out and reel them in! It sucks to realize this at this point in my life. What was I thinking? I cannot possibly correct the damage on this one.

I will face my fears. I am going to examine my options. I will seek out new ventures. I can no longer be afraid. Besides, you are only given what you can handle. You will be my guide. You are my outlet. You are my speakers. Thank goodness for blogging!

Bittersweet

How it pains me, as an adult, to see life and happiness. To be unable to experience real love in a relationship is a very challenging ordeal. The longing in my soul is a heavy burden to bear. There is no one out there for me to seek out for I am trapped. I hunger for sincerity and devotion, yet I live with denial and lies. I embrace each one in the darkness despite my pain. Eternal devotion to shit!

The legacy I leave behind me upon my death is not a fruitful one. Sacrifice is all I can recall at this point. It is only experience and advice that I have given them through the years that I can bestow to my following. Having experienced almost everything once (twice, if I enjoyed it), I have little else to share. They do not know me, they only need me. They do not care for me; they are only concerned for themselves.

If there is one lesson taught to me these last ten years, it is that you are always alone regardless of the circumstances. Those that pretend to surround you with affection are mere leeches. Don't  fear or fret; it will do you no good to argue for their spare attention. You can only enjoy what you have before you, so you should never settle for less. Do not accept that meager existence of a man or woman - there will always be another. The next one will always be better unless you repeat your pathetic pattern of self-abuse. Don't live your life the way I have, you will only wish you weren't here. Life is truly bittersweet.

Valentine's Day Disaster

The verdict is in: guilty on all counts. That is how you would deem me. That would be your determination. You have discovered the ugliness of me and all of the anger and the terrible thoughts that continue to haunt me. To describe my torment, you need only to envision a woman in tears who is screaming in pain. Her pain is in her heart and soul as she digs into the earth with her finger nails. She is trying desperately to reach the center of the earth to uncover it. She is filthy and writhing as she tries to break free. Her remorse is her crutch. Her silence is her punishment.

Yesterday, that evil escaped me. On Valentine’s Day I became a complete disaster. I formally announced my anger in public. I have anger issues. I have a dirty mouth. I am in pain. I let everyone know. What am I going to do with me? Worse yet, what are they going to do to me now?

It has become obvious that I have issues - you need only read my blog to prove that point. However, I really want to have a balanced life. I strive to become more patient and agreeable. So many people count on me, you know? Or maybe I wish they did. Maybe, just maybe, I want to count on someone but I am unable to find the person I can trust. You really need to understand me. You are reading about a woman who is a lost child inside. She just needs that special person whom she can turn to for reassurance. Surely someone has to be out there that can help her find her way?

Well, it’s too late for that now. I have scheduled an appointment with a therapist, despite my better judgment (I believe they are not worth the money), but I have to try something. I don’t want to feel this pain anymore. I nurture it. I embrace it. I accepted it for a while. Now I want to confront it and to find a place for it because it is tipping the scales of my life to a negative place. I have come to a spiraling halt. There is more negativity than positive poise. I need to get out of this before it consumes me completely.

Where Did The Bitch Come From?

While growing up, most girls would play with dolls, enjoy tea parties, pretend they were cooking, or play "House." They sometimes had “babies” that they would care for when they played together. Never, while growing up, did they decide they would be “bitches.”

When I was little, I watched life through a window. Behind my security blanket of glass, I would experience adventures and sadness without the blink of an eye. When I became a teenager, I evolved. I was 13 years old. The summer was full of excitement and adventure. I was going into high school in the Fall! That was the summer when I fell for a complete asshole (he was 18 years old). Of course, at the end of the summer he left me for a younger girl (she was 12 - he became obsessed with virgins after he broke me). I grew up fast.

I became outspoken, aggressive and wild. You could say the animal that was caged within me all those years (hey, to a 13 year old, that is a long time!) finally broke free. My first love led me to become a bitch. It took me 15 years to figure that one out. I hurt quite a few guys and I got bit back. A vicious circle that took years to control (actually, I am still working on it - smile).

I read tons of articles. Mostly bullshit, but some stories were rather interesting. For example, did you know cereal was invented to treat masturbation? Masturbation was considered an illness at one point in history. Some fools (physicians of the time) actually decided that part of the problem was hot breakfasts. Also, I recall reading about a point in time when women were sent to see professional physicians, or placed in asylums if their symptoms were severe, to treat their “insanity” (later to be termed sexuality and orgasms). How is that for a slap in the face?

We work just as hard as men (we actually work harder), but maintain a presence of compliance and submission. Then, to add insults to injury, we fight for our rights to be treated as equals. “He” gave it to us all right: we now work all day for half the pay, compete against men for employment, and return to our homes for our next “shift” as wife, cook, and mother. So much for equal rights. Sexist bastards.

Should we blame ourselves for all that has happened to us? Did we ask for it? You really think so?

I believe that there was an influence in our lives as we grew up. A dad, an uncle or perhaps a friend of the family? Someone who might have subliminally suggested that we, as girls, would some day grow up to date that type of character. He could be a nice guy, or he could be an asshole. That all depends on how you grew up. Period.

Do you believe Man created the “Bitch?”

Married - To Be or Not To Be

My girlfriend and I were discussing our options. Is marriage more economically sound than getting a divorce? There are so many articles discussing the pros and cons of this subject. It appears I am not the only curious vixen out there....

She indicated that there are times where she tries to analyze his actions. For example, why can't he notice there is a mess that he is walking through while she is attempting to cook dinner, contain the fight between their children, and rushing to get the laundry in the dryer at the same time? Why does he act shocked when she gets pissed off? Who gave her this position in the first place?

We laughed at our similar aches and pains and continued our discussion for well over two hours. We have come up with this conclusion: we are enablers. We would rather do everything ourselves to prevent from confronting yet another child - our husbands - in an effort to teach him what he should already know.

It isn't like we are newleyweds. She has been married well over 18 years. I have been married for almost 10 years. This isn't even my first marriage, for crying out loud!!!!

At some point, we just gave up trying to change them. Instead, we opt for a really good fight at least twice a year, where our heads make a turn like Linda Blair in the Exorcist and we beat them with something.

Where are the articles on the real relationships of today? Personally, we are tired of the sweet stories (mostly made up, for sure). And to think, there are reality shows displaying the crazy women who are getting ready to get married (Bridezillas).

There is only one truth - it is definitely not financially smart to get a divorce, so we have to figure out ways to even things up so that we are not the only ones getting screwed (not that we are getting much to begin with, but that will be another story).

Any suggestions?

Say It Is So

Menacing are your ways
Enchanting me with your eyes
Aggressive is your embrace
Nocturnal, else void of existence
Independently you express your rage
Numb to the conservative eye
Inflicting pain with the truth of your words
Naked when you have no voice
Graceful in your stance at confrontation
Faithless in that you can't even trust yourself
Undeniable your strength and determination
Lustful are your intentions and your actions

Yes. You are Meaningful to Me...