Universe

It will all be okay, it will. 

I don’t know how, but I do know it will be okay.

It may not be what we all think it should be, but it will be okay. 

The universe holds all our fates in the stars. Trust the universe. 

My mind knows best, how to punish me.

I will most likely also be stubborn in death. 

Not his baby

My toxic trait is I can get disrespectful if some random guy I don’t know tries to call me by any kind of affectionate name other than my actual name. 

The only man allowed to call me those kind of intimate names is the exclusive man in my life. I also need to know he’s not doling out those same names to every other female. 

On the other side of that, I’m southern, so I use terms of endearment like: sweetheart, sugar, cupcake, darling, love. 

Here’s the thing, if there was a guy in my life and he was uncomfortable with my southern manners, I would full on stop. Period. 

Getting called baby by some random dude means I will be educating said dude that I am in fact - Not his baby. 

That phase of healing where you have to look at the part you play in your own suffering, feels a lot like masochism. Oof! 

Last Days of Summer

Ahead in the distance I can see the rain. The sun is bright and illuminating the shadows of pouring rain. The water birds fight each other, but it’s peaceful other than that. I’m at my favorite Veteran’s Memorial Park having conversations with the sky praying for rain. 

This is the last day of summer. I got to see a perfect sunset at Indian Rocks Beach last night. And today I got to go hang out with my best friend and swim, we chilled out by the pool (mostly I did, since she was on mom duty). We floated on rafts a bit with drinks in hand and talked and giggled about life, then danced like idiots to her playlist, like it was water aerobics. 

There was a glorious sun shower while I was bathing in the sun and swimming like a mermaid. And I was fully present for the moment. 

Now. I’m walking barefoot; toes in the grass as dragonflies and bees wisp around me. I need to soak it all in. I won’t get to do this again soon enough.

Safe space

Honestly who wants to be loved in little increments and tiny pieces, those are just crumbs. I want to be loved wholly and consistently. 

Enough of these games already, especially the ones we hypocritically say we don’t play into. Either we are going to break down our own walls for each other in a safe space between us or just fucking forget it. I will not invest in someone who isn’t willing to invest in me. 

We all would like to feel loved and for the most part I believe we all know what each of us individually needs… to know we are loved. I cannot speak for anyone else. But I know what I need and what I want. They don’t always coexist on the same realm of reality. So trust me when I say I know the difference. 

I know what I need. 

Ripe lips ready for sinful kisses and thighs begging for finger bruises. 

Eat this wicked flesh until my bones tremble like a wind chime.

The Sun and The Moon

The moon 
hears all your secrets, 
wishes and dreams 

born of stars, 

she kisses your tears 

hidden beneath

black velvet skies, 

she embraces

your reticence 

concealed by daylight, 

she is your peace

She shares her light 

on your darkest nights 

and gives breadth 

to hope and all of your 

midnights 

You see

I know what it’s like

to be alone

and obscured by daylight 

I have never 

belonged

to this world

I am always

adrift in an 

endless cycles

phasing in and out

always circling the outside 

lost in a sea of

beauty from a billion stars

sometimes stealing the

warmth given by 

the sun

You must be 

the sun because 

you are brilliant and beautiful 

and your soul burns too 

bright for this world

but it never stops

you from

giving life to everything 

and always being 

a light

for everyone 

even when you are weary,

still, you burn 

And here I am 

selfish again

because 

I want to forget 

the world

that keeps us apart

I want to bathe 

and burn

in your light 

And feel our souls

melt into one

when our celestial

and ethereal 

bodies collide 

When I asked you to ruin me; I meant ruin my body, not my life.

You never understood that you cannot break me. 

I laugh because you cannot break me. 

Memories that conjure up old ghosts 

What woman wouldn’t instantly push her fingers down her panties, if a man could speak his emotions this honestly. And who better than Fyodor to set words on fire in my imagination. Fyodor is my lover now. He knows. 

“[…] he saw her, his heart throbbed violently, and all was dark before his eyes.” 

~Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov

Fools

Maybe it’s the chorus of the dead

Maybe it’s the merriment of fools

absolution

I don’t seek 

absolution 

from my ‘sins’ 

I fuck

myself  in

reflection 

of them

with 

tremendous 

enthusiasm.

another crazy romantic notion

I was going to elaborate on the marvels of consistency in relationships. I stopped myself. 

My mom had complicated surgery and is struggling to recover. My dad has been by her side nonstop and as close as he can be while she’s in a nursing/rehab facility, despite struggling with his own ailments. Almost a year ago it was my dad in the hospital with a 13% chance to live and my mom never left his side.

I have seen devotion and love and a bond of real companionship so deeply rooted in my parent’s relationship that it’s both bittersweet and breathtaking to watch. 

I wish I could say I knew what consistency was, and what it felt like for someone to truly love every part of me - even the parts that drive them crazy - but I have only ever witnessed it. I know it exists. I’m not clinging to another crazy romantic notion. I’ve been told I am, but I know what I see. 

It must be the most incredible feeling too. I fucking want that, I want to be with someone that can’t go a day without talking to me. Even if they’re mad. Even if I’m mad. Why is everyone just wanting to hook up, and nobody wants to be in a loving devotional consistent honest relationship? I mean c’mon, there’s got to be one other person out there that wants this too!

It’s all talk about someday this and someday that. My parents are right. If someone is not also willing to sacrifice their independence to have something amazing and isn’t trying to make plans for both right now and a future, then I’m done. And. What a shame.

Another crowded room filled with shadows chasing more shadows. I couldn’t breathe, so I went outside, to hang my own shadows in the moonlight underneath the stars.

It wasn’t my shadow giving chase to the darkness that bothered me, it was the crowded room full of people. 

Please. Tell me what it’s like to be somebody’s favorite person, I need to know so I can stop holding my breath.

I’m not religious, but You I worship like taking sacrament on bloody knees.

Privilege of Age

I was a little bit of a tomboy growing up. But I had to be, I have four brothers. They were also very protective of me then, despite my being a strong female. I shared a room with my younger brother; and he and I are still very close. I can’t say I’ve always liked him, and he knows he’s lucky to be alive. That said,  I know I am lucky to be alive too. 

Still. He’s my compadre when I want to go kayaking or walk at a park or on a hike. I’ve also been to 92% of all concerts I attended, with him. In fact I miss kayaking with him, it’s been over a month, but I pinched a nerve two weeks ago, so I need to heal. It hurts. Last time I over exerted myself I pinched two nerves and gave myself another hernia, that was while kickboxing. I also miss kickboxing. 

Ahh yes the privilege of age. Honestly, there’s a lot that sucks about getting older, but there’s also all the things you got to experience and all the new things you get to do and experience. For example, I may not be able to kickbox anymore, but now I have an incredible grand-baby. It really is the Best trade off EVER!! 

Our mindsets should be ever evolving. I know it doesn’t seem like I have a propensity for optimism, but I do. I tend to overdo the silver linings actually, but I don’t want to grow bitter. Just because life occasionally fucks me up doesn’t mean I should stop finding ways to enjoy what time I have. I always somehow manage to steer myself back to me. I am also still trying to raise my son to be a man without the help of a man. So. He needs me. All my kids still need me from time to time. I need me, and also because I want some fucking wins.

Digital world

Life got a little easier for you to stand up for yourself, you felt a little less anxious about wanting to be heard and seen. It was easier to pacify time and ignore the parts of your life that were falling apart. It was meant to bring likeminded people together and open communication. It succeeded in many ways and failed all of us in other ways. 

We stopped making time for people and started making excuses for endless hours wasted in a digital world that was surreal.

It backfired and the world has gone mad! We think we are all different, but we all fall in line with the flow of some crowd. Let’s all pretend like the world around us exists on another realm. You aren’t any less smug. It’s so easy to keep yourself distracted with socialmedia bullshit. Whatever it was, however, it was, it became disassociation, detachment, and ultimately a comfort zone. 

I mean, after all we could pretend to be who and what we really wanted to be, safely all behind a keyboard. But. Is that who you really are or is it just another mask? Is it just another broken piece of glass, a fragment, a glimpse of who you could be? At some point you will come to terms with the reality of who you sold out to be, why you traded your soul for it and scamper to reconcile who you truly are. There’s still a reflection of you on that phone, monitor or ipad.

Maybe you will find you are enough. And find strength. You can choose to only wear the mask at a masquerade or on halloween. The idea of who you want to be can be reality, but only you can breathe life into it. Don’t let other people’s perception of you or how they think you should be, change you. 

They’re not you, they’ll never be you, and That is your gift. 

You can free yourself from this electronic addiction and fight with every breath that you have to be all of these versions you masterfully created of yourself. Because maybe, just maybe, a lot of all of those versions - are you.

The crowd isn’t a good fit for you though. It’s time to break free and stand on your own. You’ll probably lose people. But you won’t lose yourself. It won’t be easy to unravel habits that have become second nature.

But it’s definitely time to Unfuck yourself. It’s time to scream. It’s time to get your knuckles bloody. Mighty is your sword, wield your power. 

waltz and salsa

I was once so kind, and beautiful. That was long before being dragged to hell with flowers in my hair, a sweet innocent smile and a mind tasting of honey.

In hell, I was beholden to no god. And as the monster within refused to seethe quietly, hell cast me out. I no longer temper my rage, I don’t deny myself the thirst for blood. 

I am the monster under my bed. I like to waltz and salsa with my demons. But I am also the angel, the savior, the goddess and the witch. 

Why do I cling so much to that monster within, the one with an incessant need for carnage and war? Why can’t I return to being an angel? I have fallen so far.

Storms

I want out of the matrix. I want freedom from thought, and here I am circling the drain of emotional bloodletting. 

Do you ever look back and wonder if anyone has ever loved you the way you needed to be loved? And not just in moments here and there. But you actually feel them, even when they aren’t next to you. And, no. Not the kind of love only your family can give. I’m talking about a lover, a best friend, someone truly good for your psyche and soul…

Or are we always searching for and longing for a love that will help us grow through shit together and laugh more with a companion, than you do now. Sometimes I get real hung up on the idea of an unconditional love that is consistent. But what if we’re only fated to have a few amazing moments and to live out the rest of our lives pining for more than the ones we are hand fed, thereby creating our own suffering? 

I have been fairly content on my own. I like to think of myself as Trinity, I’m always fighting, and dodging bullets, looking for a way out of the matrix. It’d be a lot cooler if my Neo was here to do it with me, though. Or whatever -  I nerd out. 

There’s a tropical storm going on and I love this fucking rain. Mother Nature is beautifully violent. We’re still in a tornado watch and there’s flash flooding. My mom’s all bajiggity and hiding in the closet she said, when I checked in on her and Dad. I reminded her that they took us to Fort Myers Beach and Sanibel Island during two different tropical storms when we were kids. I told her to stop being dramatic, because they let my brothers and I bodysurf and boogey board in riptide and 7’ waves. Ah yes my perfect parents allowing 4 (occasionally all 5)of us outside in the rough water body surfing and going out to the sandbar to find silver dollars. (sand dollars). We were shark bait. My brother even got pulled under twice, and once he skinned his face on the ocean floor. Dad told him to shake it off, and go have some fucking fun. This is the kind of weather you go out in. Fuck what the transplants and non-natives say. This is beautiful Florida summer weather. Anyway I asked my mom if she also went and hid in the closet while we were out swimming and surfing during the storms. I mean. C’mon! 

My parents were happily leaving us to fend for ourselves in the elements unsupervised while they had some adult time. 

I’d like to think that I will never be afraid of the storms. I feel more like myself standing in the middle of the storm, than I ever will under the blinding purity of sunshine. 

It’s strange how I trust the storms mother nature brings. She’s the siren in the storm, forever enchanting. She makes me feel alive. There’s violence in her song and I am drawn to it. 

I think I’ll go run to meet death and spin around in the storm; brave the elements and embrace the child and chaos within me. It’s better than lolligagging here in the matrix of thought.💭

When you feel safe enough to dissolve your boundaries and expectations with someone, you feel love. Your heart will bloom and the outside world will fade somewhere into the background of the moment. 

It’s a transcendent deep sigh of merging consciousness and an inexplicable powerful joy. 

Lucky

My kids say things that just blow my mind, sometimes. Their ability to grasp a situation or circumstance and effectively communicate a different perspective, makes me so incredibly proud to be their mom. 

It’s that effervescent feeling that wells up filling me with so much love and respect for the people they have become. 

I am beyond grateful that my struggle to raise them to think for themselves has more than paid off. And when the world makes me think I am crazy for the way I raised them, and tries to tear me down, I know I did something right. 

I just love these amazing little humans. I am so lucky..

My skies are never empty,

even if the clouds refuse to speak.

You can still hear the pause.

Villains

I read somewhere that “death is the only ending for the villain.” But I’m pretty fucking positive that death is the only ending for every one of us. So if I follow that logic, it’s not presumptuous to say whomever dreamt up that bullshit is subconsciously admitting that we are all the villain. Not presumptive at all. 

Coming for blood

Well fuck me, I fall for some real bullshit sometimes. They say the devil comes in many disguises. It’s time to match disrespect. Too many people think because I am a good person, that I am also a weak person. I don’t know, but I promise you I won’t be disrespected, I am coming for blood. 

I’m all over the place. I can’t clue in to focus on one specific emotion about it. Maybe it’s the serotonin. I just don’t know what I feel. I am clinging to hope, an idea, perhaps even a delusion. But I remain steady, talking myself down and keeping a cool head. I am excited and, I’m also nervous. Maybe once away from work, clarity will reveal itself. This is a big fucking deal. I am also trying to focus on wins. I’m thinking this will be a win. 

I suspect we have all been looked at, looked over, or looked upon, but have you ever really felt seen? 

Found a few journals from the tender age of 31. I made myself giggle whilst strolling down memory lane. To quote myself:

“Why is it so easy to focus on the negative? Is it because the pain is too difficult to let go? Or because it’s easy to hold onto?”

Even then I wrote about my affection for the moon, and the skies, and nature, and thunderstorms. It’s always been a lifelong love affair. Super freak! And wow, I used to really believe in myself. I dare say I really liked myself too. I was a courageous lass. I’m enjoying reading these. 

Lightning scorches the sky and thunder cracks open my chest. 

Memories can be beautiful.

But some memories are pure torture; they are a thousand cuts from a dirty knife. 

Pardon me

Pardon me, I’m making adjustments to the ways that I’m used to living. 

Denial and complacency settled into my chest so now I have to unfuck myself.  

And survival mode isn’t considered a noteworthy cool part of essential “self-care”. (the fuck??) So I had to isolate myself from people because my faith in humanity plummeted. Again.

Anyway, this next phase of healing and growth requires me to have patience with myself. And so far, I’m holding onto first place for exhausted; always saving myself from myself. 

I mean every villain has a hero, and every hero has a villain.

I just so happen to be both in this story.

Fire and flowers

I didn’t make poor choices 

and get dragged to hell by accident, 

this was my path; 

it was my fate. 

I was chosen.

I burn and dance in sun-showers,

and stop to smell the flowers. 

And like Persephone, 

I too am in love 

with the softness of flowers 

and the violent burn 

of stoking fires.

I say I’m fine. I am not fine. I’m really not. There’s been a lot going on. Nothing especially traumatic but enough shit happening at the same time to make it feel overwhelming. The struggle is peaking at relentless. 

I’m not okay, but I’m not going to tell anyone that, because then there’s a catalogue of questions or a myriad of unsolicited advice. Besides, I’m not ready to articulate it, without attaching emotions. I don’t want to project that onto anyone. Plus, I’d be wearing the anxiety of recounting it all, and I cannot stay in that mindset. I have enough unhealthy habits.

It’s easier to just say I am fine, most of us are too busy living our lives anyway. I know this can’t last forever, eventually there will be balance. Everything will be fine, I’m working through it. 

Sometimes it’s best to say 

tactfully 

what simply must be said.

And

Sometimes it’s best to 

stay quiet, 

observe 

and simply listen.

Knowing when to practice which 

is sometimes a mystery.

not today

I have recently become obsessed with reporting current weather conditions for where I live, or for literally wherever I am at that moment. 

In some ways, I’m a pain in the ass for how often I hit the submit button; but on the flip side, I’m assisting the weather app team (typically standard on every iPhone) to provide accurate information. 

I am trying to keep my mind and fingers busy when picking up my phone, and this helps me exercise restraint from social media apps. Also it’s quite possible that the weather app team might be considering removing that very same option to report any weather related issues, due to my frequency of reporting.

This gives me a little perspective on how often I pick up my phone. I’m also trying to be present in my life, so I’m trying not to pick up my phone as often. 

I think the weather app team hates me, so on occasion I press submit based an imagined scenario in my head and purely out of spite. 

Another reflection I see looking back at me, when I hold up that confounded fucking mirror to my inner soul. 

Sometimes I just want the fuckery to end and for the weather app team to get their shit together, because clearly they don’t have anyone else in my area that is as considerate and benign and willing to update them.

I can see I have taken this too far, but I also don’t see myself slowing down either. This experience (though thoroughly out of control) has likely inspired one addiction to replace yet another. But for now, it is far more entertaining and satisfying than social media. And I think this says a lot about the people I have surrounded myself with on social media. 

That’s a dig, since I recently turned into a curmudgeon old man, apparently. 

In fact I just paused writing this to report a more current account of the weather. So as you can see it’s already a problem. But it’s really only fun when the weather is inclement. 

The inclement weather is my favorite, especially if enjoying it out on my enclosed patio. The birds chirp and sing quite a bit, and many of them seem to be flying around in an effort to find a place to settle somewhere and ride it out. Though sometimes when it’s really windy and there’s no lightning just before the storm hits, they do tend to glide flawlessly on gusts and breezes under brooding clouds. It’s lovely to watch.

Curmudgeon old man my ass!! I’m a tree huggin, bird watchin, weather reporter. 

If the weather was like this all the time, I would be outside more. But if it’s not storming; walking outside on a hot sunny day in Florida, can be like wrapping a wet electric blanket around yourself. Fuck that. I am a native to the area and while I used to love outdoor activities, I opt for air conditioning now. It’s just too fucking hot and I don’t want a heatstroke. You have to drink excessive amounts of fluids and water to live in Florida or you will die outside. I say fluids (and that isn’t careless), but remember drinking alcohol outdoors all day can make you sick as fuck. Back to being a curmudgeon.

It’s supposed to be raining, but it hasn’t started yet. And according to the weather app it was supposed to start raining 7 minutes ago. Do you see what I am dealing with…? Yes, I reported it. Yes, I’m a little disappointed the rain hasn’t started yet.

I sometimes feel guilty about hitting the submit button; don’t worry, it’s ephemeral. I imagine eventually I will get bored with it, but not today.

You could tear open my throat with your teeth and I would still call it a kiss. The magic of your mouth is greediness and I am desperate for you to devour me.

Castle in the clouds

It’s that cry for help that still goes unanswered, since childhood. No one is coming to save me. So I save me by whatever means necessary.

For years I’ve subconsciously created coping mechanisms that continuously evolve to shield myself from predatory people, behaviors and situations. But mine own evolution can’t always keep up with my naivety or my romantic notions of needing to be loved. 

All anyone ever gives is half, and I find myself alone in nightmarish situations. Leaving me with no other choice but to become a monster. Survival mode will do that to you; maternal instincts too. 

I’m sure there were people that tried to love me. Perhaps one or two that even tried to understand me. But after everything, it’s too much work to differentiate between people’s motives of who actually loves me and wants the best for me and who is using me and just saying they want the best for me.

Does it even matter that I don’t know how to let anyone love me anymore? Does it matter that I would rather just be alone than to allow myself to trust anyone again? I know how to pile the bricks high with mortar and build until the sun struggles to trickle in. It sounds bleak but it’s better than giving anyone else a chance to destroy what little peace I have. And learning to love myself is still new. 

It’s not an excuse, and it’s not an explanation. It just is. I can’t take any of it back and I’m not sorry. I did what I had to, to survive. Granted they weren’t ideal choices, never mind circumstances. Right or wrong. I’ve been held accountable. 

In hindsight I thought choosing the bravest and boldest of people would make a difference. I believed they would help me tear down those walls, so I could be loved. Time and again I’d find that once anyone reached the top, they found themselves afraid of heights. So they’d get what they want and didn’t care about the chaos they left in their wake. After-all, it was just me, and they all knew I’m a true survivor. 

I don’t know what’s more pathetic the fact that literally every man I have ever loved has found a new way to destroy me or that I was complicit in allowing it to happen because I loved them.

Anyway here I am piecing my life back together again. And while maybe I am dirt poor, I have become a master builder. I know there are no rules in architecture for a castle in the clouds. And at least I know I’m the one that can build it. 

I save me. I always have. I always will.