slicing gently

I'll block the world out

Plug into any electronic outlet

for a black-out inlet to silence

from myself

from the outside

can't squeeze the last drop

it doesn't do it anymore

not the same kind of feeling

that first drag

that last sad cry

sitting only makes me wilder

eyes dart from side to side

heart wide open and still tearing

weak from strain

weak from staying

only stopping to keep count

like my days are numbered

dyslexia can be a good thing sometimes

mistakes

glass never tasted so good

smooth on my lips

containing nothing but solace

please don't tease me

I'll wrap my tongue around you

just to taste your edge and fantasize

take you dancing circles on my skin

together we could pop the cork

drink bitter wine

bleeding from where my breath has been

holding

grit my teeth and grin

another night to tie me over

gums aching

one of these days

we'll make love again

drip with the sweetness of my sins.

Getting paid

According to Dad, my Mondays yield better than his does.

Probably.

Last week I sent out a serious manifestation for photography gigs. This week I made $300 from two gigs, plus I shot Kings Of Spade opening for Bon Jovi.

Fucking go me.

It's so funny, I have such low confidence sometimes when I'm shooting. Mama Lindsey tells me to just do my thing and be myself. More and more I'm finding this to be a great foundation, to have faith in my skills. I probably could have shot the concert better, but we'll see how they turn out. Risks can be rewarding.

Regardless, I'm starting to believe in myself.

This is Bob.

Say hi bob.

honestly?

My father called me tonight. It was seven fifteen my time, I'd just finished four massages for my day's work.

"You're a woman, and you know me better than anyone. With all my rages, temper, and anger, if you were in a relationship with a man like me, would you stay in it?"

I teared up.

"No."

I silently cried.

We talked for a bit. Winding roads of the mind often whip you around before bringing you back to the beginning of the turn you keep missing. Once again, he's getting divorced, loosing his property, business is failing, and that fork in the road looks oh so familiar....Except now he's 61 and realizing he can't keep making the same mistakes.

I finally told him that he has a pattern of seeking out crazy women to make him feel sane when his life goes to shit.

Out of anything I said, he heard it.

It's been a rocky few days. Shaun and I were talking on skype about Jeff's old shit, and I broke down. Memories of my brother not standing up for me and saying I probably did something stupid to deserve it, my mother telling me that my staying at her house after I broke up with Jeff was just me trying to manipulate her.

Really I had no where else to go.

Really deep down I don't trust people.

Maybe that's why I'm so sad.

If you look too deeply, anything will break your heart.

timing and impulse

Just got home from photographing the opening band for the Bon Jovi concert at the Honolulu Neil Blaizdel (Sp?) center....Kings of Spade will continue to rock the blues and hip hop bouncing around the hips of every person who attended tonight.

My job? eeeh.

I did alright. Nothing spectacular. Fuuuuck.

It's so funny, when I try to relax and trust in myself, the product always seems somewhat.... mediocre. Head shots today, plus photographing the opening show. Other times it just flows without stopping....Tomorrow will tell if today was such an instance.

Timing and Impulse.

One of my recently (six months ago?) spiritual and life teachers has been consistently instilling in me the effort that needs to be made in balancing dreaming and planning. Often I tend to, like my father, build a dream like a kite, overly excited at the gentle breeze and blindly faithful to my decisions.

Fuck I'm tired. I'll finish this over tea in the morning.

Waking up backwards

My eyes flutter and I go through a check list.

One. Am I still dreaming. Good God horrors have ensued from not including this as a first in the routine.

Two is like a double sided check. It's a balance of "am I late?" and "what day is it?" Once I grasp one of these then I can swing into a schedule of meetings or work commitments, the times they start, and calculate how long I have to enjoy my tea.

Today I have thirty more minutes.

I had a huge pang of fear last night on the bus ride home from work. Mostly about my decision to go to the mainland for a month and a half. One of my patterns is to build a foundation and then send my shadow to jerk the rug out from under my feet. Meaning that when things start getting consistent in my life I make sure I'm out. Maybe it's just my defenses.

And I don't regret my decision. Just wondering how it will pan out. Home to come back to, check. Clients love me so they'll be there when I come back, check.

The two big things I feel like I dented are the Pilates course I'm taking, and the Church of Eden filming. My original plan was to audit the Pilates course in March so I really had all the information I spaced out on in January. The resolution will be that I BUST ASS in April and May to take the test before my 6 month time span runs out. Please don't let me waste $1200 of my own money, or anyone's for that matter.

The Church of Eden is a growing connection I definitely want to maintain. Good for me that I'm well liked by the Reverend, and I do a surprisingly good job as his beautiful co-host. So we'll do double filmings till I leave to finish the episodes. Cross my fingers there will be more work with them when I get back.

I'm sooo excited for my trip. I leave in three weeks. San Francisco, and a few other places in California, and Colorado Springs to visit my family.

Something real is happening in my heart and it scares the shit out of me.

Trying to sit still

it's like having ants for blood.

Choices continued

Being grounded is designed to make you feel sane.

Okay, sleep and tea do a body good. Tonight will mark the first evening of many to come where I either have only one glass of wine or none.

Being grounded is not designed to make you feel sane.

Foundation and apathy dance on a blurry line depending on how well you challenge and motivate yourself throughout the construction of the place you feel grounded. People tend to go three little pig style, trial and error, moving from grass hut to stick shack to a brick house.

I on the other hand, built a trampoline. My foundation is reliant on a system of metal springs and plastic, gravity and the weather. Slip once and you could get seriously jacked but that double bounce the rain enables is like finding the secret level of mushrooms in the clouds on Mario.

Don't get me wrong. Sometimes I retreat to underneath my launch pad, building a make-shift cave from blankets and palm frans and grape vines. Know your tools inside and out, top and bottom. Lay on your back and watch how light drips through the cracks and onto your eager tongue and gaping mouth.