Hey Darlin'

The temperature outside was begging for brown leaves to be littering the streets and trees to be baring their skin. But for now, the portrait would remain an illusion of summer. He slipped his hands into the pockets of his brown bomber jacket and walked leisurely along the sidewalk to his near by destination.
Thomas could see his breath forming in wisps of smoke before his breath and recalled younger days, when he and friends past would form a narrow "V" with their pointer finger and middle finger, pressing the illusory cigarette to their lips, then blowing out the nicotine air. In days not so far gone, the angelic, thin air morphed into thick, smoke screens, and the space between his finger tips was replaced by Reds. Now, he had gotten over the habit and didn't even pretend to look cool.
He was tugged from this day dream by the ringing of a cow bell. He had reached the school just in time. He looked at his watch as he stood outside the gates and realized it took him fifteen minutes longer than usual to get there. He looked back and wondered if he took a different route. He wondered how he got there at all. It's times like these I wonder if a child in my custody is the best idea.
"Dad!" he heard his daughter cry out as she ran towards him, looking like a pink marshmellow as she ran towards him in her puffy jacket.

Free Write, all right?

Thomas stared at the sheet of paper that was on his podium. The little strands and worms of eraser once again littering the blank, white sheet as he erased that one starting line. What would it take to start? The design for the building had to be finished by the next morning and he didn't even have an idea.
Hello. My name is Thomas Moore. I'm an architect. It sounded better than it felt. He looked up, outside the window as he picked up his mug of beige colored coffee (it was more milk than the black shit itself) and took a sip, squinting a bit as he did so. His eyes wandered across the street, past the home of his across-the-street neighbor and into the green behind it. He saw a long neck flicker up from the ground, and two eyes stare past him. They never look at you, do they? In a flash, the doe had scampered off to be devoured by the green forest.
Thomas glanced at the clock. 3:32. I'll be early if I leave now. His eyes moved back to the paper, as if he expected it to make an attempt to stop him. He shrugged, grabbing his jacket of f the coat rack and making his way out the front door.

Food Blogs!

Hey...

I really love food. Mostly, I love preparing different kinds of foods. I love cooking and baking. Most times I cook and bake to give it to other people, more so than eat it myself.

I just wanted to share this other blog, called Food Wishes with you. It's a video blog and this guy, Chef John, gives the step by step to preparing different kinds of food. It's well organized and all. I made my room mates banana nut bread from his page and they loved it. I'm always excited to try his recipes and never get around to it...but I'm sure some of you might actually have the time and would love to try it too!

Keys

Many men prior to Elliot held Adelaide in a similar fashion. She laying a top the said man, facing the ceiling, one of his arms around her, palm resting on her abdomen. Albeit, sometimes she was staring at stars, the roof of a car, and in one particular case, the inside of a cardboard box; she was young ten.
For that reason, and a few others, she couldn't attribute what happened to how Elliot was holding her. Nor could she attribute it to the scenery, for she had seen more beautiful things than the ceiling of her living room.
It couldn't be his brown hair and brown eyes because htey were average. It couldn't have been the way he looked at her, or the delicate movements of his fingers, or even the way he nipped the tip of her ear, bringing his tongue out to lick it quickly right afterwards, so swift that she barely felt it, as it had all been done before.
So what was it? What was it, she wondered, lying there in his arms, both of them in a warm, comfortable silence, just moments after it had happened.
For years, she had promised not to get to close. On her heart, she had placed a master pad lock, 16 digit security code, reinforced steel, and a stick of dynamite as a last resort. All for nothing. In one, swift, unknown move, Elliod had found the key, slipped in the security code, melted the steel, and defused the dynamite before she could blow up her heart and become a heartless, uncaring bitch. Better to be that, then in love.
What was it?! At that moment, Elliot leaned in and nipped/licked her ear again...her insides clenched...was this it?...she waited...nothing. What had happened just before? She retraced the steps. He looked into her eyes, smiled (was the smile it?! ...No, no, he had done that before), leaned in, nip/licked her ear and then...
He spoke. He said words. Those words, the tone of his voice (a bear whisper, from back in his throat) were the keys, the code, the fire, and the defuser. When she realized this, it happened again. Her lungs restricted, she couldn't breathe, her heart stopped, her stomach clenched, and then there was a fantastic release. Her body became electric. She transcended being, emotions, and any physical feeling and only felt one thing: ...well...you know.
All the men who had previosly wanted Adelaide's heart needed only to speak those words. Those words that now...she can't remember, and was too embarrassed to ask him to repeat.

Adelaide had found the keys to Elliot's heart many months ago. The keys to his heart were her lips. The way her lips felt as they pressed to his, as if they fit right there. As if that was where they were meant to be.

Reply:

1+1=1

So...usually, I already know what I want to write for the day. I already have it all planned out in my head. In today's case, I want to ...add on to yesterday's post because I forgot to mention a key point in my belief.

But even so, even though I already know what I want to say, I usually wait for something to inspire me to start writing (read: I procrastinate. Until I see something that kicks me in the ass and says "...what are you waiting for?"). Today, it was this video. And I wanted to share it.




So, what I wanted to add on to yesterday's blog is short. I said the whole thing about your soul mate possibly being born in another time, blah blah blah. What I forgot to mention was: Even if you are lucky enough to FIND your soul mate. Your ONE true love...who's to say you're theirs?

Deeper pit of depressing thoughts, I know. But...to me, this is truth. And it's something I've accepted.

Why would you POST that?

(On love)
"You know how when you're listening to music playing from another room? And you're singing along because it's a tune that you really love? When a door closes or a train passes so you can't hear the music anymore, but you sing along anyway... then, no matter how much time passes, when you hear the music again you're still in exact same time with it. That's what it's like."


Hah. I don't know.

Recently, when I first came home from school, two friends of mine (Kaitlyn and Trista) and I were sitting in the latter's living room and talking about our opinions on love.

I don't think I'm wiser or more experienced than anyone else in the area that is love. I just have a belief about it that I want to share. I suppose this is a disclaimer. I'd love to hear anyone else's ideas about love, because if you ask any of my closest friends, they'll tell you it's my favorite topic. So, here it goes:


I'm a strong believer in that there is only ONE person for everyone. That if there's that check list in someone's subconscious that explains the balance of faults, assets, quirks, physical features, etc that their partner would need to have in order for the relationship to last forever, there's only ONE person that fits all of them. And no, I don't mean "in the entire world".

I mean in the entire history, present, and future of time. People who believe there is only ONE person for them, I agree with. But what makes them think that their soul mate is around today? What makes them think the person who's absolutely perfect for them is the girl next door or living on a remote island somewhere? What if they aren't even born yet? What if they're already dead?

I think most people settle. And when I say most, I mean 99.9(repeated indefinitely) % of people. They settle for someone who meets as many of those criteria, some people for someone who doesn't meet ANY of the criteria.

I realize this is a really depressing, unappealing way to look at love and finding the right person for you, but I believe in the one true love, and I don't think that many people ever find them. I think I may know one person who actually got lucky enough to be born in the same town as their one true love, and I think THAT may be a miraculous personal statistic.


I can write a lot more....but I got out of my head and into this post everything that I've been thinking about. Questions? Comments? Concerns? If you're reading this, you're probably on facebook. Message me.

First Short Story

I don't have a title for this yet either. I wrote it for two reasons:

• I saw a public service announcement about the US armed forces
• My friend Kim is going through something similar to this. And every time I think about what she must be feeling it hurts a bit. It's also unedited and unrevised. So really...I dedicate this to her.

“This…this is for you,” the little blonde girl handed Dan a folded sheet of paper. Maddy looked at the girl as she scampered away, grabbing her mother’s outstretched hand. The little girl reminded her of herself some 10 years ago.
“Aw! Maddy, look! It’s me!” Maddy turned her attention back to Dan, who, in the time that she had been day dreaming about her child hood, had opened the sheet of paper to reveal a green man. Maddy’s stomach wrenched. Of course, the green was to represent Dan’s camouflage uniform. A uniform he had to wear when in an airport, traveling to a far off dangerous place.
She looked up at him and his awkward, smiling face. She remembered what she had been told over, and over again. They left teddy bears and came back statues.
“Madison…” always by the full name when he knew she was upset. But she looked away.
“Madison, come on…look at me…I’m still gonna be a teddy bear when I come back! Those oafs need someone like me to lighten their mood! Come on! Don’t do this now…” of course he knew what she was thinking. He always did. It was some kind of clairvoyant entity about his person. Or maybe it’s just that she had complained to him about how he was going to change before. A thousand times before. Maybe because it was all she thought about, so her thoughts were easy to guess.
“How do you know? How do you know you aren’t going to change?”
“Because I’ve been through much worse.”
“Really, Dan? You’ve been through worse than war?” her tone was sarcastic and bitter. But of course, he just smirked back. A playful smirk.
“All right. I guess not. But I’m unchangeable.”
“No one’s unchangeable.”
“I am.”
“Just stop, Dan.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what.”
“No, what do y-“
“This happy go lucky crap!” her voice was loud enough to make everyone turn around. Dan’s face froze. There was no trace of a smile.
“Maddy…come on. Sit down.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her towards a pair of open seats.
“What do you want from me? You want me to be OK with this?” Maddy asked him. His playful manner was gone and he was just staring straight ahead, one of his knees bouncing. She had made him nervous and didn’t even feel bad about it. Good. He should be nervous.
“This is what I want to do. I want to do something. I don’t wanna give you the whole ‘I wanna go fight for my country’ speech because that isn’t even really it. I don’t have anything else but you. I don’t feel accomplished, though, Maddy. I can love you forever, but there’s always going to be something missing…something that I didn’t do, unless I do this. This is important for me. For me to be happy and fulfilled.”
“Why isn’t loving me enough?”
“Stop being selfish.”
“What?”
“That’s selfish. You’re putting me in a corner. There is no right answer to that.”
She shook her head at his unwillingness to answer. He was right. She was trying to start a fight. Maybe he wouldn’t leave if things were sour between them. Maybe he’d stay. Maybe he’d hold her and tell her it was a mistake. Maybe, maybe…
At that moment, she burst into tears. As suddenly as a firecracker goes off, the rivulets started streaming down her face. Her body jerked with each sob. Dan didn’t freeze this time. He slid closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulder, pulling her in close.
“Maddy, Maddy, please…please don’t do…” his own body jerked as he tried to choke back a sob. “…Don’t do this…”
“Dan, please don’t go…please please please stay home with me, Dan…I don’t want you to go…”
“Passangers for flight AA2330 to Berlin should proceed to gate D6 for boarding,” a female voice spoke over the intercom. Madison’s hands shot out and gripped Dan’s shirt.
“Don’t go...don’t go, don’t go…” she cried, tears still streaming from her eyes.
Dan wiped his eyes in an attempt to dry them. He moved his hands down to hers and held them a moment and kissed her forhead.
He whispered, “Wait for me.” Against her head. She closed her eyes as she felt his breath on her skin, comfort and tranquility flowed through her, starting from where she had felt his breath. He pulled away in her lapse of consciousness and walked quickly through the gate, to where she couldn’t reach him anymore.
“Dan! Dan, don’t go!” she yelled once more, another sob going through her.
She whispered to herself, lips quivering “Don’t go…”


“…Don’t go.”

Heartfelt

So at the risk of sounding like what society deems feminine, I'm going to post this anyway.

I was working today and taking an old couple's order. The conversation went something like this:

(Between me and the gentleman)
"Hey guys! Welcome to Mugs, can I start you off with anything to drink?"
"What kind of soda do you guys have?"
"We have... orange soda, I think, sprite,..."
"What I mean is, coke or pepsi?"
"Oh. Pepsi. Sorry."
"All right...well..."
at this point, he stumbled. He turned red a bit.
"...I'll just order when I order my meal."

(Between me and the lady)
"I'll order now. An iced tea, please."
"It's unsweetened. Is that all right?"
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
"OK."

I went and got her her unsweetened iced tea, and took their order. When I took their order, I forgot to ask the guy what he wanted to drink. When I came back, they had her unsweetened iced tea between them and they were sharing the one drink and the one straw. When I asked him what he'd like, he blushed again and said he was fine.


There's two points to this.



One, I think the fact that they shared a drink and a straw was the most adorable thing ever. When I was walking away from the table after he said he was fine, I felt put together. But like I had JUST been put together. It just seemed so right and...I don't know. Just right that they were sharing a drink.

Two, I hate that he was embarrassed and I wish he would have said "No, sir, I am going to share my wife's iced tea with her because we've been married for 46 years and I love her very much and I know EVERYWHERE that mouth's been for those 46 years and I trust her."

Maybe in real life he would have just said "I'm fine, thanks." or "I'll just share with her." But that he felt at first that he had to order something and skated around it for so long saddens me a bit.


I wonder what went through his head.


That's it. Have a good night. =)

First Poem!

Hello! I was on a flight from Costa Rica to Miami and I had an idea for a poem so I wrote it down on the back of my copy of 1984. This is without revisions or anything. It's not even titled yet.



Untitled

I'm wrting my dreams down on
shredded napkins (at a restaurant
in Paris) rolling them up, throwing them into
the gust,
to be carried by the wind, like
dandelion seeds.
Then I wonder:

Has a dandelion ever made it within
the city limits of Paris? Perhaps, clasped
between the fingers of a four year old?
Or pressed to the palms of two lovers?

Did they let their dreams float through
Parisian side streets to be kissed by rays
of the sun, Haloed by neon signs in windows,
choked by cigarettes?

Did they dream?

I'm writing my future and my past down
on bark and dry sticks, destined
for the fire, without care.

I realize:

The only thing that matters is the sweet
present that the Present is.

Birthday

It's raining here in Costa Rica, Netherlands just secured their place in the World Cup Final, and I have this poem running through my head...




She's so beautiful. Her words are beautiful. Check her out.

Affliction Astrology

In astrology, affliction means "one celestial body affecting another". Otherwise, it means something that causes pain.

Weird.

Anyway, day two of this blog, day four in Costa Rica.

We went ATVing and at one point, we were riding along this beach, and I have never seen water look the way the ocean did at this moment. It had a metallic shine to it. I don't know why I'm saying these rambling things...I just really wanted to write things down, so I'm writing things down. It's soothing, really.

I have nothing else to say.


Ah! I remembered there was a reason for this post. I wanted to explain why Ultraviolet Lily Pads.

It's in a poem I once wrote. I told myself I'd only use this for new poems and short stories, but I suppose this can be an exception. Here it is. I wrote it two years ago. I was under some kind of influence when I wrote it. Heh. The only part I like is the Ultraviolet Lily Pads...it's stayed with me.

Vision

As I sit here instructing on the writer's
tools. I forget my next thought, on correcting these
mistakes

Do you hear the thousand mocking-doves a singing?
Dressed in black.
A sheep in wolves clothing.

This heavy breathing sends shivers up my spine. It frightens me.
This underground world seems wonderful.
No lies. No Pain

Hit my spine with a metal bat.
My blood is a river of ultraviolet Lily pads.
What is abstract?


Nothing.


Maybe I'll rewrite this someday. Who knows.

A Clever Design

A rainy day on vacation, waiting to go eat dinner. What better time to start a blog?

15 unsuccessful minutes trying to change the background to lily pads (clever, I know), I nearly decided to quit trying to start a blog (for the umpteenth time). Then, I just took the leap. I hit "New post" and went with it.

I don't know what I expect from this and I don't know what you expect from this, but I hope it's enlightening for the both of us.

Ah! I lied. I do know some things we can both expect:

• Poems
• Short stories
• Videos
• Random ramblings

Yes. I did, in fact, lie on purpose to see how the bullets work.

Here's a video, as well.