Sweet October

So why wouldn't I be excited? When I found out I was going to be a focus point, why wouldn't I lose my shit? I thought I was the only human left with a discerning opinion. Here it is. I won't be a stepping stone. It's going to be impossible to point my finger and try to call me a liar. I am on the very edge of epiphany. I found a place that makes gold body paint. That isn't expensive for what we would use it for, and is easy to clean up too. I have been growing my hair, allowing me to create more exciting hair styles for said dress up. I have a pretty solid friendship with an amazing photographer. I found a connection to the Pin-up/Rockabilly scene in Knoxville, and I think I have the make-up for a new creative outlet. Here's hoping at least.

You see, even though I share a birthday with all time great bad-ass skateboarder Jason Ellis, this projects me even further. Stumbling briefly, I found that even a day into the new life, I am not the rule, but the exception. This is fascinating to me. I don't have sprawling pictures of kids, and God help, I try not to ramble about the dogs, even if they are smarter than your honor student. I am not editing said "info" on any obnoxious networking sites from "single" to "involved." No, no, I am much more advanced.

Looking at the long arm of the law from a distance, I refuse to get lost in the dense fog of not knowing who I am. Here's the question, can't we be inspirational together? Instead of barely reaching out, I want to invite you to a more intimate part of life.

There's something missing in my life. As hard as it can be to admit, I have "ghost limb." Constantly. Life is no longer drag shows and begging for forgiveness outside the invisible door. And yes, we can all smell your burning marijuana you're so fucking paranoid about. That's why I go to the secret hiding place. And, I change clothes afterward. Oh fuck. I have a careful system in place. Ingestion of substances? Please, don't try to coddle me with your open mind and liberal ways. Search for fucking a break, and learn to let go a little. Try to be decent. It's really not that terrible.

Actually, I have a vision. Of being on a ship, and not ever being cold again. My balance equals a palatable field of dreams. My vision includes and not limited to, bright colors, new connections, and total fucking blindness. Where is all the malicious intent coming from? Who knows? But I'll be damned I'm going to sit and wait around for another soul to point fingers, place blame, and suggest everything I'm doing wrong in their eyes. P.S. That's not friendship. That's being a nasty manipulator, and you just hurt my feelings. If this is a way you receive attention, it is the wrong way. Cover a turd in sugar, and you guessed it, you're still a fucking turd!

Can you believe how flesh and blood I have turned out to be? I can't apologize for something I cannot morph into overnight. I reiterate. I am on my way. It should be just as much as a journey for you, as it is for me. If it's all easy, then you are a big faker. A phony. A fucking Shaman. I work on the quilt pieces quietly and most of the times, second by second. Is it fair that you do not have a rich sense of wonder like I do? Is it fair that perfection is a stone's throw away, but I'm just not hitting dry land yet? (another ship reference, I am a sucker for anything nautical)


Half the time I write to someone imaginary who somewhat favors me. Striving to reach out to a kindred soul, who feels like a warm towel out of the dryer. (If you ever get the fancy of having me soak in your tub like an alligator, this is your cue) The other half I write to ghosts. I write to my past, present, and future. I write to the fortune cookies I love to unwrap. 1 % of the time, I write just to feel better. (gotcha)


The clincher? Is as ready as I believe I am for action, said action has to be put on hold. I mean, since I sense there is a moment getting ready to coming out from behind the curtain. The heat I feel on my shoulder, as if already tapped. From now on, I suggest you turn on The Wizard of Oz and play Dark Side of the Moon spontaneously, then the keys of the universe will unlock the unholy Pandora's box of randy thoughts, and fill your ears with delights from the Orient. It's not just a urban myth, this is real life people.

Until it all happens, let's not hold our breath. If you need to say something, please comment. I look forward to feedback. Being an old fashioned girl and knowing, feeling, riding the tide, and turning the other cheek as my nature beholds! Please, please me. This may be the only other chance you have.

Holla!