For You

I’d break open each pistachio in the whole bag for you.
I’d crack open your 11 cans of beer, I’d,
I’d travel 73 blocks to grab you your favourite Thursday night chew.

I’d rub your back and your feet any night of the week.
You see, I would care for you in such a way, that I would believe it.

It Tasted Like My Own Medicine

War in a bottle,
went down my throat last night
as I snacked on stars and waited for Dawn.

She approached me with fine colour
we were fine for a minute or two
and I’m sure all I saw was beauty
but I closed my eyes after awhile,
afraid I’d seen too much.

The drops stung when they hit my lungs
and I knew it was a good thing
I swallowed
my denial, avoidance and dishonesty
and when I swallowed
there was one thing more then just Dawn and I.

 

 

 

There was Peace.

 

 

 

 

Ache a Lake

If this is the process of a heart opening up to love,
well damn,
feeling just got an infinate times more tender.
My sensitive guts, oh come on now!

I feel broked open!
Airing out my heart has never happened
until now!

it’s the only thing on the line

blowing in the wind and those dusts and specks, yeah! They blast into my blood line and stream through me like they know they ain’t supposed to be there
and it brings me to my knees, oh like heckaloo it does.
I’m bending out of a tree and I just want to feel limp
to not feel the split open of my heart
all the strings and power and muscle exposed
just hurting aching longing

Lake Heart Ache.
what a fricken real life thing .

 

What a Surprise?

Mere hours after posting my No Response post, how surprised was I when at 1:50am, phone rings. And through fuzzy eyes I see,
that it is

you.

 

We update alittle on each others week of no contact. I can tell that you’ve been drinking.

35 minutes later, I can’t believe that I’m on my way over to your place.
Driving with a windshield 85% covered in ice, having had to crawl in the back door because the front wouldn’t open. Iced shut.
I didn’t even believe the phone call.

You had never even checked your email, so you weren’t aware that I had written.

 

We don’t make love, but for two hours we sit, drink tea and talk. You are playful, and redirect attention away from any negative. And before I leave we hold each other, touch each other and say,
” So I’ll see you tomorrow? ”

 

Oh boy.

 

 

Changing Where Your Happiness Derives From

Sitting on the floor of the dining room. Facing the back yard. Through the glass doors I see the birds at the feeder and the sun rising, peeking here and there through the brown limbs of forestry. The grass is green, the house is quiet.
But my ears are not. They swallow up soft joyful music. I shall be motivated and inspired today. I shall take on the day with great to be alive feelings. Because I have that choice.

Truth is,
deep down I know my happiness is coming from the fact that ex and I are still in the cuddle bug rug of datability. And I am holding onto that for all I am worth.

Since I am aware of this I am trying to sway my happiness from just that, to the will to live for simply, the happiness that I can create because of ME. I am a wonderful person.

And I have the ability myself, to sustain that joyfulness through brain choices. Habits form that way. And habiting a life of inner peace and joy has got to be more fufilling than reliance on others.
Which, has always been my way.

We’ve got to be fully happy with self, before we are able to give our complete to someone else.

 

Either Or

It’s amazing how a person can make you so happy.
Someone you had for so long in your life.
And that happiness is amplified when you don’t have them.
But I know, if I ever do have him back, that happiness will be maintained and well nourished and be the best and the last relationship I will ever be in.

This is how I see it.
We have seen each other a few times in the past week. And they have been decently well meetups. We will either continue them, and be closer to dating-and eventually get back together.

Or else, very soon, in a few weeks or so. We will stop all contact and continue no more.
For we cannot be friends without our dating scenes. We are too accustomed to it and natural to it. It is what we are supposed to be if we are to be in contact.

One day I wish I will be able to write a post titled,
‘We’re Getting Back Together!’

 

Back To Thailand

Let’s take a look back to the place I lived in for five years. Pattaya,Thailand.
It changed me.
As  moving anywhere does.

Pattaya is a city of tourists,prostitutes,murders,drugs,wires,signs and deceit.

That basically sums up the negative.
But I am not such a cynical person that I find no positive of anything.

Fruit is wonderful, markets, 24hour 711’s almost within 4 minutes of anywhere.
Beautiful. Cheap clothes.
Weather.Beaches.

And there’s people that will drive you home so drunk you don’t even know where home is and they call your mom from you iphone asking and taking no money from purse and delivering.
Once in a lifetime that happens.

There’s also the time where you almost get raped by a so called friend and you set it up cause you went there alone in the dark and it waas in the middle of nothing but  a pack of dogs so when you scream and bolt and run and run and have dogs chasing and you’re whipping stones at them and hoping hoping hoping you won’t feel their teeth on your leg, well that’s life there too.

I haven’t had many scary expeirences there. That I felt. Save for that one. So in five years, i think that’s doing pretty good. I mean, i putmyself in dangerous spots all the time. I truly did. I ate noodles in a stairwell at three am for 2 months straight on the weekends.

I bruised with reality. I tested it. I got so drunk i was shoeless in a massive downpour, water rushing down streets and alone and white wearing me , brother searching, me just drunk drunk drunk.

I like to believe that my non touristy brain, saved me.
That I could smell danger, I avoided. That I thought like them. That my knowlede of the city, the people, helped me. I was able to manevouer around people. My expertise at people, at Thai’s really came into play and I belive that the reason for my safety.

No matter what they say.

Cause they lie like they need the money.
And most of them do.

 

Get Weak

I don’t remember feeling this emotional over a grey squirrel or from seeing water spray up from the concrete waterpark floor, onto my sons underpanted kid body.

I don’t remember when I felt like this last; listening to songs I just learned. I feel I’m an emotional ball of sheeps wool. I feel weak with life.

I feel fricking weak with life.

Maybe we get so stuck on being strong. On holding our ground, landmarking our opinions and building them onto even higher grounds. But you know, I think it’s pretty darn special to get weak.

To let life kind of fill you up with oats of tears and to sit in that bowl and just, cry for how happy sad things can be.

Because feeling is a gem.

Feeling is a wonderful.

Put down your muscles and let yourself get weak with life.