can i puke on your blog please?

response to Tye

this is a response to a recent blog post of a blogger I've read for quite some time now. His post was about lying and how natural it is for everyone and it's how we all work. His point wasn't that lying is good but disclosing little is a very good thing; especially when it comes to dating. My response is this:
why wouldn't you want to know about that person you're seeing, wouldn't you want to know theiur secrets, their history, their life? that's what makes us. disclosing little only prolongs the "getting to know phase"...which may be your piont, it may be that is the only part you like and things beyond that are too much. it is also obvious that you don't want anyone to know you fully...which is a feeling i relate to but at the same time; why keep secrets that will later come as a shock and ruin everything in the end? because you chose to keep it inside? isn't the point of a relationship to know that person fully because you want to be with them? because you want to be the biggest part of their life? I understand not putting it all out on the table on the first date; but if that connection is there then why not further your knowledge of one another? it's just my opinion I know, but i wanted to respond to it because...lying isn't a good thing I don't believe, in any way, shape or form...although we're all guilty I think it's important to try to be honest in all the ways you can be and to make right our outward lies by being straight forward in the end...it's scary to think that someone you like, someone you care about, or someone close to you, isn't at all who they portray themselves to be because they hide so much. It's just my point of view.

I am aware that I am many different things.
I have been aware of this for awhile but I am now accepting that I cannot fit into any mold that I see, or anyone else sees as appropriate.
I can only strive to be who I want to be, to have what I want to have, and to do all I want to do. In this life
But ever part cannot come together in one desire or leap or effort.
It all takes patience and self understanding..
It takes elf exploration and outward effort.
It takes the entire journey of life to constantly try to get become more of who you see as the perfect you for this world.
As perfect as possible
As loose the term can be used.
Because we’re all only human.
I am not anyone but who I am…
And I will always be who I am
I will just add colors to the person I’m becoming.
For the rest of my life.
I can get frustrated at not being all I want right now.
Just enjoy the process and accept the walls that pop up in my paths.
There isn’t one path.
There are infinite paths each with 2 options or outcomes...
But many more beyond each one,
To get to where I want to be.

Really...I believe, that I just want to pull you from your world completely.
and pull myself from my own.
and travel to a new place.
where we came make something new
and complete.
some place....we can call home (call our own) and be proud...and be whole...and honest...
that way, all these little things that seem to get in the way of getting anywhere become obsolete.

become nothing more than a memory or idea, because they aren't part of what we've created.
they are the things left to the rest of the world.
things left, disregarded.
things unnecessary.

we do not need...or want.
things only displayed as distractions,
things only interpreted as excuses.

excuses as to why great war and reward can be shrugged off as imagination, as ideal...too piped in dreams to ever be real.
our lack of faith and hope pining finely into definition as to why things cannot change.

and these things.
and these things...


left scattered,
thrown to the wind...

these road blocks
these mind tricks
these conditions.
these realities.
this life.

completely washed free of.
scratched freshly to an empty canvas.
clean slate.

pure.
endless possibilities previously leaning us towards frustration of being expected to pick an oil. to pick a color. to pick a backgroud. a road. to preemptively understand the point of end the beginning would push us towards.
washed clean of understanding.
of experience.
of truth memory may have served time and again.
a begining so new and unfamiliar that we know not what color is red. know not what texture is paint. know not what use the size variety some brushes may serve.

know not our own fingers.

know not our own tendencies.

know not our own language but create one from the simplicity of human understanding.
create explanation from the innocence of our hearts.
save only what we cannot control.

our purpose.
our growth.
our transformation from young and unaware to wise and unprepared.

everything entirely fresh...
yet comforted in pockets of soulful knowledge and intrigue.

back inside our closet doors.
within the cushions we create in our defense.

all these walls
all these puzzles
all intentional misinterpretations turn inessential.
we are merely born anew.

with nothing but ourselves and each others' capability to conquer this battle.
yet not one single clue as to the essence of where we came from, what we are made of, where there is begining and when there is end.
clueless blind and entire.

pulled from both worlds into our own dawn.

we are born together; into a life...
fit only for us to conquer completely, as one unit.
as one capable
willing
and flawless force.
we are the derelict detachment
produced form points we have never touched.

and in our new beginning
we are faced with a journey
demeritorious to nothing but curiosity and confusion.

we sink our toes into the fresh ground.
arm in arm.
I watch us waltz away.
and we are perfect.

Life of a Porcelain Princess

a little door
for a little doll
a little room
windowless walls.
a little comb
for her little head
a little snore
in her little bed.
a tiny crack
in her tiny neck
whistling wind
increasing wreck.
a little fray
a little pull
a bit of soup
in her little bowl.
a lot of time
in her little life
to dream
to sleep
side a little knife.
a touch of sound
outside the door
a hint of hope
shone on the floor.
a twitch
a gasp
a shrug and turn
a little flame
a lot of burn.
aging thread
an ounce of dust
tiny sprinkles
consumed by rust.
a teensy lock
invisible key.
small tears and teeth
will set her free.

Maybe the night is still velvet and stars glistening
Maybe now everything has changed But I'm still wishing
Maybe though no one Can hear me There's someone listening
Maybe my heart works just as well With a part missing
I'm a part of the woman I used to be
Don't know what's become of the rest of me
Did I leave her there with you?
Maybe the wind against the house Is my own confessing
Maybe the falling darkness now is my love undressing
Maybe the rain upon my skin Is a sweet soul-kissing
Maybe the one that I've become Doesn't need what's missing
I'm a part of the thing by which I was defined
But it's absence I don't mind
Did I leave it there with you?
I'm a part of the woman I used to be
Don't know what's become of the rest of me
Did I leave her there with you?

Gloomy and Cold

Image you are given a type of treasure you weren't expecting at all, you weren't necessarily in search of it or wanting it in anyway, but it shows up one day out of the blue. It is locked tightly in a glass box. there's no door, there's no key. it sits in front of you day in and day out. at first you understand it's there but you don't look at it closely at all. it sits still, and you pass it constantly looking out of the corner of your eye; always knowing it's there. Then you sit one day. and you stare at the treasure. you start to feel it, and become aware it will be there just the same tomorrow, as it was today. inside the glass. you can't take it out. you can't touch it with your hands. you can only sense it's presence with your heart and your mind. this is how you see it, this is how you start to know it. you become more curious as to why it's there. Someone floats into the room and like a dream speaks to you. "You must watch over this treasure while it is inside this box. You must protect it and stay with it day and night, do your best to keep it safe. but know that one day will come when it will disappear. After all this time under your protection it will fade from the box and out of your care. While you spend all your time getting to understand it completely you must know that you will never, in your life, get to touch it. It will stay inside the box; and then it will be gone." The presence floats away just as it came and you're alone again, with the gift right in front of you. You are angry. You want to walk away now and leave it to someone else. you want to close your eyes and sleep it off. but you wake it's still there, so you want to go on without knowing it's there at all so you won't know it when it's gone. so you won't feel a loss as it if never arrived. you don't know how long it will be there. you don't know how long you have to keep shrugging it off. you want it to be an illusion. you want it to be a joke. you want to treasure to be made of something else, an imitation, imagination. then you wonder if what you were told could have been a lie as well, or misinformation, or a mistake. so you're torn on trying your hardest to keep the gifts safe selflessly without hope of ownership someday. or to keep them safe with the hope of the opposite. or to try harder to make what you learned less likely, and to cherish it and try your best to make it yours someday. you contemplate your options and you're left alone with the box. You know all the possibilities and the presence whispers in your ear as you drift off to sleep "if you hope to open the gift at the right time it may happen, but know that if it works, you may vanish instead." Jolting awake you look around your room and there is no one there. You Scream: "Are you a demon? Are you a Gaurdian? Are you simple harsh logic that toys with my head?" You don't know why you are left with these choices, but you know you're left with them and time to wait. Wait for more answers, more possibilities, or for decisions left to power out of your own hands. A helpless feeling settles in your soul and you weep. You're asked to give your love freely. You're told that love will float away in the end without a thing to remind you of it. You cry out to the Heavens for answers, you beg, and you plead, and you don't stop until your tears run dry and your voice is lost and your throat is harsh. The sun comes up and an Angel comes into your selfmade prison you no longer allow yourself to leave. You look up at him, weak, and disbelieving. "Hope and love are your two strongest secret weapons." He says. He retreats. You're unsatisfied but aware your voice was heard. You rest peacefully through the day. When you wake you're ready to make the best of all choices you are given, to seek answers. Hope and love. You let down the walls and move slowly forward in faith.

Wuhpssshhhhh

deleted.

I am not loving my job at all irght now. which is where i'm at. because I'm doing this brainless job that actually HURTS my brain because...well it just sucks. i haven't written in here forever because i haven't had access to a computer. I'm so sleepy. this whole week has been a braindead, I want to sleep it away, week. my birthday's next tuesday but I decdied I'll have a little get together Saturday night because I haven't ddone anything too social lately and i like my apartment, and i like company AT my apartment. it won't go too late because I'll want to crash at some point and I'm sure if very many people come, which I'm assuming NOT, that they will go out to the bar or something. I invited some people from work and a couple other friends but nothing like last year,k because I don't even really talk to those people at all anymore. at least not even half of them. I'm going to go home tonight and go to the gym at my complex and work out. maybe I shouldn't work out so late, maybe that's why I'm so tired, maybe I should wake up early and work out but that's so hard. ugh blah. I'll probably start at hu hot in a couple of weeks but I'm not positive. as you can see my brain is very much on the surface of any real thought. I'm just drifting in and out of conciousness right now at work. This plae is very GREY. I need spend time going out and doing more things during the day. okay I'm done.