Got drunk last night and talked a LOT about life.

It pretty much sucks.. but I’m missing something. I want to see the beauty of it. Why are these eyes so temporary for me?

Been setting up some photoshoots.

Let’s hope they turn out well.

I’m really kinda tired… lol

I think I’m going to go masturbate and then sleep. Goodnight.

when I was going through stuff. Just thought I would post them before I lose them.

Two By Two
She loved to sit upon the stool
and order two by two
Then closing time
When she stood on all ten
And spun in circles
Her clothes flew
Who knows where
Her ankles went into the air
She screamed and laughed
’til she exploded inside
Then she would lie awake
and cry through the day
But every night
She loved to sit upon the stool
and order two by two

Untitled
Please don’t sing
And stop writing now
Put your pen down
I’m not your muse
Don’t let me be
There’s nothing amusing
about me
I’m short, I’m lazy
I’m getting fat
I don’t deserve your
beautiful words
descriptive verses
Shakespeare’s got nothing on you
Pick another beauty
One as beautiful as me
back then
When I was the one
Who played your heart strings
Time has gone on
I’m growing older
Maturing in my body
And my mind a bit too
I’m not the same anymore
Pick another muse
Beautiful, in her youth
You can’t write about
a body that’s falling apart
or a being that nearly exists

Secondhand Stupidity
Remember holding me between your thighs
Penetrating our love
Rhythm of our hearts
Remember these tears
These abrasions
These scars…
My life will never be the same
And I’ve only got myself to blame

I dreamed this mortal part of mine
Was metamorphosed to a vine,
Which, crawling one and every way,
Enthralled my dainty Lucia.
Methought, her long small legs and thighs
I with my tendrils did surprise:
Her belley, buttocks, and her waist
By my soft nervelets were embraced
About her head I writhing hung
And with rich clusters (hid Amoung
The leaves) her temples i behung,
So that my Lucia seemed to me
Young Bacchus ravished by his tree.
My curls about her neck did crawl,
ANd arms and hands they did enthrall,
So that she could not freely stir
( All parts there made one prisoner).
But when I crept with leaves to hide
Those parts which maids keep unespied,
Such fleeting pleasures there I took
That with the fancy i awoke,
And found (ah me!) this flesh of mine
More like a stock than like a vine.

I don’t know about anything.

I’m not okay, though I thought I was.

Lame? Yes.

I need to be a big girl and do something to make my life better. Where to start……?

I suck at being a parent.

I’m going to go shower or something.

As I lay down, I can feel his hand move to my thigh. Stroke me. Moving with his hand, I feel the electricity climb up my spine, then surprise me again between my legs. His hand follows. Riding the waves his fingers send through me, I savor the moment. Time slips away. Fuck me. Splash, there’s your invitation.

I fell into the moment. Attempting to recall details, I get flashes of unexplainable feelings. Pulsing, I wiggle in an attempt to remind myself it will happen again.

I see myself on the screen. Surreal.

I know it will happen again.

Old Ella Mason keeps cats, eleven at last count,
In her ramshackle house off Somerset Terrace;
People make queries
On seeing our neighbor’s cat-haunt,
Saying: ‘Something’s addled in a woman who accommodates
That many cats.’

Rum and red-faced as a water-melon, her voice
Long gone to wheeze and seed, Ella Mason
For no good reason
Plays hostess to Tabby, Tom and increase,
With cream and chicken-gut feasting the palates
Of finical cats.

Village stories go that in olden days
Ella flounced about, minx-thin and haughty,
A fashionable beauty,
Slaying the dandies with her emerald eyes;
Now, run to fat, she’s a spinster whose door shuts
On all but cats.

Once we children sneaked over to spy Miss Mason
Napping in her kitchen paved with saucers.
On antimacassars
Table-top, cupboard shelf, cats lounged brazen,
One gruff-timbered purr rolling from furred throats:
Such stentorian cats!

With poke and giggle, ready to skedaddle,
We peered agog through the cobwebbed door
Straight into yellow glare
Of guardian cats crouched round their idol,
While Ella drowsed whiskered with sleek face, sly wits:
Sphinx-queen of cats.

‘Look! there she goes, Cat-Lady Mason!’
We snickered as she shambled down Somerset Terrace
To market for her dearies,
More mammoth and blowsy with every season;
‘Miss Ella’s got loony from keeping in cahoots
With eleven cats.’

But now turned kinder with time, we mark Miss Mason
Blinking green-eyed and solitary
At girls who marry –
Demure ones, lithe ones, needing no lesson
That vain jades sulk single down bridal nights,
Accurst as wild-cats.

1) Went and had lunch with this really cool guy I met. His name is Ian, and I think I’m starting to like him. He’s cool, cute, and we always have plenty to talk about. We ate at Zio’s, went to Illusionz glass and saw their AWESOME glass pieces, got high, and watched Watchmen..as well as talked a lot.

2) Went to see my great-grandma in the hospital. She had a stroke and isn’t doing so well. It’s really sad seeing someone as they know their life is coming to an end.. listening to what they have to say about the life they have lived… seeing how they change…

3) Hit a pothole/ice on the way home and slid all over the place… Lucky I didn’t crash and that nobody hit me.

Now I’m sitting at home…

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