Douche.. capital D.

Once a Douche bag always a Douche bag. I try to be cool. I tried communication. I feel stupid as is for allowing myself to be venerable to him and opening up. But I think mostly I have a right to be bitter.

In general over the course of the entire situation. And mostly I can love people from a far. I love everyone. But I wish you the best, dueces. And I'm good. Nostalgia gets the best of me occasionally and thus this situation. But he's done shitty things to me as a human in general. I try to be a good human. A kind human. A thinking of more than myself human.

And he's almost 42 with a smaller penis. And a big dick attitude. He's a jerk. And I remembered all the fun times and I love to have fun??? This fucker not only has to get weird, and mean... in public again. I dunno. Fuck him. Just fuck him.

Reasons to stay alone: Men don't grow up they grow worse. And I like to have fun. And most are not fun at all. Most are lazy, babies without pampers, instead they have supersized fragile egos they take out on everyone.

Clearly... And I do mean abundantly clearly ... Ed is not for me. Duh.

Today my sister sent me a screenshot of him liking her fb status. A picture that says. "Don't have sex with your coworkers" .... he was the first person to like it. She died laughing.

How childish?.. I promise that was intentional so I would see it. He is that petty. And I just don't get it. I was going to say I didn't do anything to him but i did go off on him this time. I did try to make amends after the fact for work sake but he just ignored me so.. What the fuck ever.

Mostly I'm finna smoke some weed and I don't give a fuck. It was a thing, it's not,  it's cool. Whatever. But everything in me wanted to comment on it and say...

Especially if they have little dicks.

But I didn't. I can vent here way better option. Like how can you keep walking around with so much ugly?? I'm sure we will encounter one another at work. I plan on going about my business as I always have. That's it. Nothing more nothing less.

But just ggggrrrrrr today. I'm not mad he's a douche. I'm mad I gave such a fucking douche the time of day. Like why try and see passed his red flags.

And not that it's very nice but I ain't tripping cause I ain't a part of his life. Like 100% the whole scenario is fucked. He's in love with his roommates chic and vise versa. And that's crazy fucking drama. No thanks. I have fun but I'm quiet at home. That's where you go for rest. All that tension. All those uneasy unhealthy vibes. I'm good... hard no for me.

Tripping. Dudes be fucking tripping. 

Throw the whole damn internet away

Ironically titled as I use the internet to bitch about it. I'm thankful for all the things I'm able to read with such ease. I should read more actual books. Th feel the pages slide inbetween my fingertips. The smell of them. The not illuminated by light but by thought beautiful pages.

I suppose it can too go on the list of why I hate it. Not reading enough real books. No real people to be in contact with. No adventures. The swell of my imagination wasted on porn and trolling. I couldn't work for 3 months. What the hell else do you do with a broken leg? Nothing... just the fucking internet. Now I'm fucking sick of it.

No Ed at work today. I'm grateful. I'm crossing my fingers it will be the same for the next two weeks. And maybe forever. Someone did ask me about him.. a couple times. I just told them I hadn't talked to him or seen him in a month or so. So I had no clue how or where he was. Glad to be back to work in general though.

But I do hate the fucking internet. This shit is driving me mad. I'm still a little gloomy I don't have friends but there's been a couple of people lately that have surprised me. That's nice too.

I need to get out more. Car. Besides surviving ... #1.

Fucking Tequila

I've not done shit today. I drank a 5th of tequila last night and blacked out. I was at least at home and amusing for the most part. My sister has a video of me crying from laughing so hard listening to Vanilla Ice. This is after I demand she plays me The Beastie Boys.

I thankfully had got so drunk I didnt call or text anyone after the blackout kicked in. I did text Sam when I just started but he was at work.

Knowing I want to be single forever though, I am interested in finding a mostly singular sex partner. Who is cool with just being used for sex. Who can keep up with my sex drive. That'd be cool.

My boss finally called today and booked me for a 2 week job. Fucking yes. I'm hoping though Ed didnt book the same job and I don't have to work in sub degree weather with an awkward angst between the two of us. Even worse though after all that's happened this fucker still watches my fb stories sometimes and that's weird asf. And I'm not turning down dollars for nothing. Especially a guaranteed 2 week check? I need all that bread. But there's a good chance he didn't because I'm going in for carpentry. Has a rigger and if we're building for 2 weeks I imagine they aren't hanging motors everyday too.

I'm hoping not to see any of them actually. Making money, no extra anxiety... yes Lord, that would be bomb ass.

Fuck Unicorns

I need to find better things to do besides masturbate and chain smoke. My imagination is now my downfall. Eluding responsibility like a master craft. I am the sword in the stone. Stuck. So much potential greatness waiting on the right thing to be worthy enough of my illumination. But stuck none the less.

There's been no real life updates on here lately so here we go. My nana has lost her mind and the dementia is changing her. We got into an argument that lead to her physically attacking me with the help of my two kids, and she fell. We've moved. Well sorta, see she doesn't want me back and most of my belongings are there so she's been letting the kids come back once a week and grab little by little and visit our dogs. Meanwhile I'm in exile and my staying at my mother's. Imagine dirty hoarder in the hood. There are 9 of us here now.

Her, myself, my two, my sister's 4, and my sister. A crazy husky foxy knoxy. 5 cats. So much untreated mental illness it makes homeless schizophrenics look like saints, and no real running water just a slow stream, and the furnace is currently broke. So... no hot showers on the daily. Traveling for that. And not a friend in sight. Not booking any jobs at work, and no car. Bobby isn't currently allowed to talk to me over one of his chics, and Nicole has not once checked up on me. No 2 seconds to see if I'm ok. Melissa is caught in her own life, and I try not to be abrasive considering you know her whole life is falling apart too. But

This severe attitude change coming in from my nana in the first place because she didn't like Ed, who I wasn't seeing in the first place. Just hanging out having fun. And the backlash of extreme ridiculousness from that has rendered me here.

There is always someway, somehow an extreme discord that comes privy in my life when the two of us cross paths. He has this serene nature that tilts to include a raging tsunami. From him fucking hookers at my brothers bachelor party in a full blown hulk attack of jealousy and ruining my birthday,  to me getting robbed of his drugs at gunpoint and him exploding in yet another drunken jealous temper tantrum.. at my mother's in front of my friend a week later. To the current.. him in an i like you when I don't want to like someone, and I'm geeked like a fat kid with cake I have someone who will shenanigan with me and makesout and then he switches up on me randomly and completely ghosts me, wont speak to me, and if I ever book a job again where im working, I'll have to be in the company of. 

So I'm applying endlessly for new jobs. Waiting on taxes and buying a car. Contemplating the shuttle bus conversion and taking the kids on the road. I have to get my insurance switched over. I have to find a place. The sooner the better. I'm a hot mess of a female but I'm a clean one. I need daily showers and long hot ones at that. I need our lives, the back to quiet ass life. I need my dogs.

And now that I know that I know that I know that I know that I don't want to be with anyone, I'm not going to be wasting my time perpetually failing at finding a decent partner 🤣 that time can be better spent on me. My life.

As soon as I defeat my imagination.

Gravity stay the hell away from me.

I need to try harder to get out of this place mentally. If I can conquer it mentally the physicality of it will change too. I feel like my life has kind of always been under a sort of gravity blanket. A heaviness I wear and it's that I pretend it's not there, but I try not to let it weigh me down. An aloofness. And so much has happened recently and I have the harsh truth that when you're down and out, very few people are there for you.

Case in point: My friends.... I don't know where they are. I'm so ride or die for anyone in my life and I'm such a fixer for them, and when I need that... nothing. And maybe that's part of growing old. That or maybe it's just the otherwise seemingly awesome people in my life. My ego is a little bruised from it.

But it's also given me a truth. That if I'm already alone, what am I staying for? I've been looking into bus conversions. Like getting a shuttle bus and turning it into a tiny cute little traveling apartment for the kids, dogs and I. It will be tight but we can go hiking and see everything. Mobile hotspot for school. And we'll all be together, stuck, but they won't have the influences of others breaking them down. Just us. Magic.

I've always dreamed it would come later and it still might have to. But, I think this could be really good for us.

I think it's a step in the direction of not letting these plagues and curses eat me alive for life. And before I had them I promised them good. They need and deserve to see the world too.

I don't want them to live under this gravity blanket.

Rawr I'm a bored dinosaur

No weed. I think I'm getting sick. My stomach kinda hurts and I haven't done shit all day. Bobby told me his chic says he cant be my friend and I didn't sleep last night.

I'm going a little crazy. And I hope it doesn't last.

R&R&R 🕉

I have an irking in my soul today. It usually doesn't get the better of me, but alas, today it has.

If I had to guess it's because of connected energy vibrations and I can feel him thinking about me which is weird after the way he ended things anyways. I don't go out of my way to think about him. There's a seemingly endless trail of disappointment that comes attached with having him anywhere near my life. So honestly, I just smoke a bunch of weed and let go of the shit that happened between us.

But I can't do a good job of ignoring him and his life if he's going to think about me to the depths of me feeling his thinking. I hate empathy sometimes.

And when I do come to the occasional passing of thought of our times I don't hold on to it, I try to allow and release.

I think the part that really bothers me is this, I'm overwhelming, I get it, but I put up with a lot of retarded shit, off and on for a dumb ass amount of time. And I really didn't want to be with him. Maybe some romps in the hay and fun times, have someone who was fucking fun to escape my house and actually do shit... bonus: good making out? Heavy petting??? Duh.

He was a great guy but ... I. Don't. Want. To. Settle. Down.   ... and I know I get older, and thankfully wiser. But in that itself makes me know that life is short, and I don't think I'm going to grow up ever. Not in the sense that everyone wants. I want to grow old on a commune.

So I keep coming to this place where I'm trying to ask the universe why this person has played so many roles in my life. Try to grasp the bigger picture. He's a fascinating character in my story for sure, but in general, I'm back to being bitter about ever have a feeling about him in the first place. Like even considering him a friend. I think that part actually is what bothers me the most.

When we originally started talking again I was just trying to mend old wounds. And he helped do that and some. And then i remembered how fun he was and just wanted to be his friend... And like Zorro with vengeance he came back into my life and hurt me more. And... I've never not been honest with the dude... always kept it real, always let him be him...

He couldn't ever, in any way ever, handle me.

How the fuck did our fates intertwine?

So I'm irked today.

Rabbit Hole

I slept with Mario. Over 10 years of weird friendship and I slept with Mario. I have mixed emotions about this. I also turned into a insecure girls hours after it happened. What did I do? He's fine. I'm fine now. Took a minute to process but I was starting my new years off with a bang. Literally. So I may have enticed him. He was fine with it. It was fine. I pulled the bandaid off.

If I'm going to be a crazy spinster forever.. and at this point I plan to be, then I have to stop being so afraid of the physicality of it. I'm not sex ready. I even felt bad for Mario, under normal sexcapades I would of been so fresh and so clean so clean. I wasn't able to shave.. I wasn't home when he picked me up. ... I like to be fresh out the shower smooth as a baby. Dress up, show out. It wasn't anything so theatrical. He's always been oddly drawn to me and I don't get it most of the time but I feel like he should of got drama after all that waiting.

So now without going overboard I should be able to be okay with my sexuality and with moderation still be able to enjoy myself occasionally.

That's the hope.

Flying

I remember the brutal beating cold wind against my face. Gasping for air in a temporary panic. Trying to think while free falling at a plummeting speed from 14 thousand feet. Everyone kept asking me on the ground if I was nervous, I wasn't. I was excited because I knew in my bones I was ready. I told them maybe in the moment. But i had unwavering readiness.

The door opened and I got to the ledge and not even for a moment did I have any hesitation. I knew taking that jump was me taking a step in my life in the direction of living. Mundane occurrences usually got the better of me, but I, I was ready to take that leap. I was doing what I wanted to do. I was living regardless. I was flying.

We dove out of the tiny aircraft and did our backwards banana pose and fell to the Earth. I couldn't catch my breath at first. It was surreal, and in our instructions before the plane took off they told us if you can't breath, scream. I remembered, and not that the tandum instructor attached behind me could hear, I let it out. My breath was immediately back following. It was an ice cold drop on a summers day. I see how people are in love with this. 60 seconds of complete freefall with an astonishing view. I feel the force of the chute open and pull me up in a jerking motion. The fine hunk of meat attached to me releases my leg clasps so I can sit more comfortably in the air. He then hands me the reins after doing a few tricks. Whipping ferociously through the air high above the fields of nature. Everything looks so small. Except life, I knew in that moment that life was big.

I find there is such a safety in being scared. When I think back to that moment my lungs still freeze with anticipation. Holding it so close to my heart that it swells of excitement at the mere thought of doing it again. They asked me a third time after we landed if I got scared on the ledge. I told them I was ready to go back up again. I was in love.

A big check on my bucket list of life got checked off and it left me with a taste in my mouth that haunts me. Thrill and adventure, life pumping through me??

Now, nothing will ever be enough.

In

She was rusted. Imagine the dirt under your nails after a real days work. She wasn't to be underestimated with her wolf like eyes her intelligence followed suit and was equally as captivating. She perplexed those she met like a piece of art no one fully understood. She was something to be marveled at. She was rain after a drought. Life had never taken it easy on her but she never dug her heels too far in the mud. Figured it was going to happen either way might as well take it with some stride. She had an heir of unbridledness that left you with a feeling. Even she was aware of her seemingly like mythical siren like powers when in everyday interactions. To see through people as if they were made of glass. She studied them all.

Butcher's Beauty

Yellow jealous. The kind with sick.
She'll be the bigger person and move on. But like a female comic book heroine she'll harbor an inclusion of angst. Dwelling beneath the layers of her core. Her wit comes standard and fast just like the face she unknowingly makes as a reflex when somebody says something. Her intelligence could never mask her facial expressions.

She was aloof to some and strong and silent to others. She liked to take it all in. The atmosphere, the smells and vibrations of others. She felt them. She hide herself away a lot of for that reason. A word never had to be spoken when she entered a room, she could look into the eyes of others and know their souls. Even if she were blind she felt what she could not see. It was no mediocre talent. To feel an attraction, or affliction. To read someone without an audible decree, people's vibrations spoke miles to their stories. As if the press had printed off a breaking news story to every person she encountered she read them. Words plagued by actions people she encountered lined up to live their words out loud. And she listened. Carefully. Never casual.

Like a secret agent she knew who she could and could not trust. Her downfall, a fat ass and a nice romp. Hesitation laid there. Between the sheets of lovers intertwined like candy on a string, she fell victim to her own erection. She did wholeheartedly want to believe in the good. And a great set of peepers and a smile caused whirlwind in her soul like a tsunami beating against the banks.

But our hero longed to get better. Her essence captivated by thought of being Medusa to her dreams. Cementing them. You don't tame a wild horse. You can't throw a lasso around the Sun. Her dreams marveled low tides under full moons in countries no one really knows. Hiking for days or weeks or months and not being eaten by bears. Her soul was a mind of its own.

She was logic and imagination.

Verbs

My feral heart instigates these emotions that run rampid through my cerebral enterprise. I read once that your heart actually contains single cells with memory. They said a heart transplant recipient remembered the face of the spouse of the donated heart and fell in love with her; again.

I'm elated that I know myself well enough to really know I'm happier alone. I'm grateful that with as long as it took chasing things I never intended on keeping that there isn't a great place of disdain for the time lost. I had a lot of fun being with other people but it was never intended to be lifelong. And all that valuable me lost in attempting to meet someone else's needs, which are typically endless, I could be scorn.

I want to jump out of more planes. My soul craves that adrenalin. It's a bear that has finally awoke from a lifelong hibernation and it's yearning for escapades. Starving for life. I'm a learning junkie and how else do you learn in life without experiencing it?

I must fly. I'm being thrown out of the nest and am traveling at alarming speeds. Or as Tom Petty would say.. I'm falling, free falling.

The heart of the matter

Writers block is real. It chews through your bones and renders you lifeless. A numbing of your cerebral cortex that forces you to think about everything but the task at hand. The courage of commitment has never been a strong suit for me. Though strong willed I may be, drifting amongst the stars is where you'll usually find me. Gawking in awe of the science of matter, space and time. So as my soul lays in the belly of the clouds I find myself faint with anticipation. The unraveling of minds between lustful glances and the smell of pheromones used to be enough and it's not anymore.

I'm consistently perplexed. As Alice said, "I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person then" I find myself estranged from my own desires. As if love were a dead horse I keep beating, trivial romance spewed from my veins. I was lost at war. But a gentle knowing beneath the flesh softly beats and told me I was ready to love; myself. When I become overtaken by the hunt of a lover I am seemingly replaced with an invasion of the body snatchers version of myself. I don't know that person, and from what I see I don't like her. Above and beyond for what? For more grown-up angst and beer? Resentment and soft tacos?

Nobody is going to want to do these things you fantasize about. A life of fresh air and a sea of adventure. An open road and a few good books. I think life in the normal sense is lost in translation. A mass scale game of telephone and none of us really know the truth. Except for a very few.

I think that sometimes the only reason my nerve endings crave skin in the first place is because the romanticism of the media. Chic flicks have us all fucked up. It looks so good on tv... even when the couple temporarily  splits in the middle of the movie, and then you root for them because you just know it's got to be love, and the good guys always win.... It has us demented from reality. It doesn't work like that, and if I've never really lived my life then how do I know who I am? A coming of ages mid life crisis. Who really wants to spend that long with one person? That has got to get boring. And dating is like a game of Russian roulette except for all the chambers have bullets except one. And you don't die from the repeated gun shot wounds to the head. You just develop soft serve scoops of daddy issues until you burst all over someone else with all your crap in some attempt to be venerable. It's grotesque. 

Interesting fact, the word attach originated in the 1500s and actually meant to take or seize. Like to a tax collector. Does no one else find it odd that when you attach yourself to a person your actually giving them a piece of you to take? You're taxing yourself.

Also I need cows in my future. Like when I settle down. Seriously, cows. I just want them to live their lives happily. Compromise after you've been alone for so long seems redundant.

The last will and testament of the eccentric hot mess that I am. I want to be free. The exacerbation of my journey filled eyes leaves me with wanderlust. My soul is a vegabond. In my version of myself I am an astronaut, my legs my ship, and the earth my space. I want to see everything. I need to. My being screams at me with urgency always, but this; this is a knowing. A humming consistantly growling louder from the time of self realization. An always there neglected sense of consciousness. I feel more selfish than before. But isn't the path I take supposed to be that important to me? My purpose?

I find it remarkable that my dreams don't fancy the chaos of the rich or famous. How nulling and over played to the senses that must be. Rather, unstrapping the weights and toxicities piece by piece to unhinge this life of subpar mediocritys.

So I haven't been here in a while.

I need to get back in the habit of writing. Clearly I need a life update.

Mentally I've been really okay with the idea of being alone for a really long time. Like I am a way happier person alone. Insanely. Don't get me wrong I like affection, but I think it's always just a chase that I love, the hunt of it, the lion in me. But I'm always way more not me, than me. I don't like me when I'm with other people. I'm bogged down by some always expectant. I'm not doing what I really want to be doing. I stop having a social life and I get resentful of this other person. Not just for no social life but for not trying to live more, for the extent of the exhausting fighting with one single person in the end. I like not answering to one person, I like not having that responsibility. I'm an endlessly loving person but I hate routine. I love doing whatever I want to do when I want to do it, and with whoever I want too.... No one holding me back.

I haven't ever had time to live out my own life desires because of raising the kids. And I'm okay with that it's a give in. I did that. But I dream about all the shit I want to do the second they're grown. And I'm not in a rush but I want adventure. I want everything I long for because I think that's what my soul needs. My journey. And how do I know who I am without living out my own dream. I've never really pictured a guy in that place though. I think this is why I've never been married. When I think about the future, I just see me. Doing what I want to do. Wandering, backpacking cross country.

Nobody has enough adventure. To leave it all behind to get lost and found. I think it may be the most beautiful thing you could do. Why wouldn't you want to?

Even when I'm older than this like say my 50s ... I see me on a farm. My little animal sanctuary. Painting. With a really old blue pick up truck. Perfectly rusted.
I'll have my cows and piggies. They'll be safe from eating...

I know what I want. I want to look back on this life and not regret not doing what I wanted to do to ultimately just end up with a sea of bad romances and compromise. Settling for less than.

Everyone has a primal instinct to settle and I think I pretend to want to sometimes because I like the appeal. I like the physicality of it. But I don't want the rest. I also don't want an endless bodies either. That's a conundrum unless I'm celibate forever and that's not going to happen... none the less...

I asked the universe for love a little while back. And it's doing a great job of showing me I love me. Learning the lessons I do in life, the wisdom I have, and always working on being a better me, I think that's what I love. My egos desire not to be great but to seek higher knowledge and better the place with humanitarianism and love. And unless there is a guy out there who wants to get some gear and become a dirty hippie with me wandering the country giving everything up when I turn 40... and then settle down on a little plot of land on a farm eventually.. growing our own food living off our land... then why in the world would I want to give that up? And I don't think I'm going to find that.

I love my dreams.. I deserve to be happy. I know what I want. I just have to be honest and really remember that. Easier said then done when I see prey.