Untitled, Unfinished Piece

Sitting in the corner, she took the party in from the shadows. There was music and dancing; frivolity and laughter; an abundance of stolen kisses and looks overflowing with love and enchantment. The whole scene was one for the storybooks.
No one even looked her way. She had been sitting there like the proverbial "fly on the wall" for quite some time - the entire party to be exact. She nursed her already warming beer and sulked. What a typical Saturday..

She was the the awkward one - the one that was overweight and a fashion train wreck. She'd never been part of the "In-Crowd"; no friends, no boyfriends. If you saw her out somewhere, she was usually alone -- and quickly forgotten.

Staring out across the crowded room, she spotted a beautiful girl dancing alone. Swaying to-and-fro with the beat of the music; a smile on her up-tilted face and her eyes slightly closed. She wanted to go talk to her, but knew someone who fit in so well where she did not wouldn't even give her a second thought. She sat back and continued to pine for the girl that was quickly becoming an obsession.
As the night progressed, she continued to stare; people came and went. The ever-changing crowd seemed to center on the dancing angel next to the stairs. She watched her laugh at someone's jokes, put on a mini-show for her adoring fans, and continue to dance; oh, how magical it was to watch her dance.

A few people stopped and said hello, but she paid them no attention - they were just trying to be nice. She just wanted to keep watching the girl. Hoping against hope that people would stop bringing the girl drinks, she slowly made her way to a chair near the "bar". She sat and tried to act nonchalant, but it was hard to hide what she was doing - she eventually stopped caring.

Happy Birthday, Old Man!

Today.. well, yesterday as of 13 minutes ago, is my husband's birthday. This is only the second time in the entire time we've known each other that we've been apart for it. I'm not sure how I feel about this.. I'm usually cooking his favourite meal, his favourite cake/cookies, and trying to keep the Munchkin from tearing his present open before he gets home.

It makes me sad to know that he worked all day and went to his apartment and was alone.. probably not eating anything because he's too cheap to buy anything/too lazy..

That, and the fact I found some things I had bought to cook for him while he was here on vacation that I totally forgot and now I feel like the world's worst wife because they're some of his favourite things.

Today was a rough day, but I did get the materials to register for yet another round of education. I am really hoping that this time I will finally be happy with my career choice. Maybe after trying Journalism, Marketing, CNA/CMA, Bartending, and Phlebotomy, Veterinarian Assistance will be where I'm happy. Let's hope that this bachelor's degree is the last one because, let's face it, school is costing me too much now.

So, Happy Birthday, Husband; now that you're old, I will still be here nagging and taking care of you. I love you more than you will ever know, though even I don't know why. I guess you're just a lucky man.

And, because I love myself as well, congratulations to me for making the decision to yet again drown in a sea of book, notes, used pens, and endless sleepless nights writing papers for the sake of higher education. I think I'm going to change my "works at" section on Facebook to "Career Student".

RTT: Letters Are Dead; And So Is Conversation

Because you know, the internet killed them. Just sayin'...

Okay I'm doing this new thing, because I'm already so random people can rarely follow my thought process in any way, called Random Tuesday Thoughts. Enjoy the link, you're very rude.

So I woke up and my back still felt like it's trying to ask for a new mattress through pain. I'm 23, not 43, and I feel like writing a letter to someone just because I'm laying on the floor. It's cold down here; I'm not happy about it.

Munchface was so excited about Lucky Charms and The Princess and The Frog this morning that she almost brought the roof down screaming out the window at the people cutting grass "OHMYGODIT'SAFWOGGIEONTHET.VANDMOMMASAIDI'MHERPINCESSSSSSSSSSS!"

Which, yes, we think it's hilarious when she says "princess" so we tell her she's Daddy's and Mommy's and Gramma's and that random person running on the other side of the lake's "pinCessssssss". But this morning, while my coffee was still brewing, my back was aching like a geriatric, and I hadn't completed my morning routine, she wasn't a princess, she was Satan's child. As she jumped up and down and danced around, I lost my nerve to scold her for screaming like she was getting beat up by the Gnomes, however, because it was so damn cute. I miss the simple joys of childhood.

I got an e-mail from my high school pen-pal. DUDE! PEN fucking PAL. You write LETTERS - not e-mails. I miss letters and cards and written sentiments to save forever. I miss seeing handwriting and beautiful or interesting stationery. I also actually miss phone calls. I prefer human interaction over e-mails and text messages, no matter how awkward it gets for me - that kept me grounded and always finding ways to adapt. Yes, I'm a socially awkward freak unless you put a drink in my hand and some good music in the background. Yes, I'm weird and most people find me extremely difficult to understand when I start prattling on about this and that. Learning to get along with people and communicating on a primitive level is good for me. It's good for you, too, so do it, dammit! 

Husband started out-processing today... insert sad face that quickly turns to a happy sigh of relief. I am going to miss my glorious Bull-DAWG nation (a.k.a Georgia) but at the same time, it's time for a change. We're headed for the dirty south... Louisiana. Yuck.

-- but anyhow! (see, there I go getting off-topic again - do try to follow)

The Housing people reminded us that we need to hire cleaners. I called Husband and told him to make sure that they knew I wasn't paying to hire someone to clean this damn house. I clean it ALL the time, every day, and if that's not good enough for them, they can pay for it.

The doors and window weren't sealed properly so every day I'm cleaning up a multitude of bugs and random particulates from the great outdoors off of everything. It's actually pretty disgusting since I have small person running around. Here, enjoy this picture of what happens when I don't dust for just two days --

my window - two days; just two days...

the corner next to the window (sans random big yellow spot)

So you can clearly see why I feel like I've done enough. They refuse to fix every problem from the busted door that floods my dining room every time it rains like it's trying to convince me to make an Ark for two of each bug, to the leaky roof that stained the floor and ceiling that they want me to pay for... oh well.

I'm on to another subject again...

Munchface told me yesterday that she was going to go to work for Husband and I decided to take a picture of it:

cue the "aww" and stuff...

My plants are starting to make me depressed. I saved them from our last house, where they were going to be demolished, and they've flourished from near dead tiny things, to big huge elephant ears - I can't save them this time. I'm going to miss them..

So my neighbor offered me $1700 for my mixer again. I tried to tell her she could offer me $10k for it and I'd still say no, but no one ever listens to me. I'm just going to stop answering the door. Munchface tells her she smells all the time - I don't get mad at her. That should tell you something.

I lost my favourite shirt. I'm sad about that. I had to wear something random today, which fits the topic of the blog, but not my mood. I look like zebra. My only belt is zebra print, my sunglasses are zebra, and now my shirt. I have a thing for zebra print, and I love it, but I didn't realize how ridiculous I looked until I walked by the mirror.

I just told Munchface not to be ugly (she was screaming about some outside toy she wanted to bring in the house) and she looked at me with her lazer beam ninja death eyes and said "but Momma, I petty pincess, I not ugee!" and walked away.

I was just pwnd.

I want to know how a silverfish got on my ceiling; also why it decided to drop onto my head. Un-cool.

And now for the end of my blahrghhhhhhh...

enjoy the squish face-

Look Mother, I'm Falling: A Piece of A Whole

Please remember that everything I post that I've written sans poetry are only pieces of a larger work.

If you get lost, it's okay... they're also the unedited versions... deal with it.

... Look Mother, I'm falling.

Deeper and deeper into this hollow of a black hole.

This expanse of nothingness.

I can feel the darkness consume me.

There is no room for life.

For light.

No need.

It is serene now in this no where place.

The dark is so cool...

I may never recover.

I may never return...

The abyss may become my home.

I may never see life again.

I may never feel light kiss my skin.

There is no need.

For I am left with nothing.

This hollow...

Is so real.

So very vibrant in its darkness...

My heart...

or something like that...

Who fucking knows?

Maybe I am crazy.

Maybe they're right.

Maybe SHE'S right...

Mommy dearest may be correct in assuming I have lost it.

Fucking bitch.

She has no clue.

It's Wednesday.

He hasn't called since Friday.

He's trying to kill me, you know...

I saw him.

Watching me, waiting for his chance, stalking my eyes to see when I would look away...

He thinks I am crazy.

He thinks I love him.

What does he know?

Fucking prick.

Mommy dearest may be right.

I may have lost it...

I should dye my hair.

Cut it.

Cut myself...

I need to do something. I need to change somehow... I am so tired of how I look now. Too thin.

Too thin...

Too fat.

Too brunette.

I think I should cook something with chicken for a nice dinner.

I think I should invite him, even though he hasn't called.

Fucking bastard.

He's trying to kill me, you know...

I told my shrink.

He thinks I have lost it.

What does he know?

He's so one dimensional.

He doesn't ever think I could be right.

I think I love him.

He's good to me.

He gets paid to be good to me.

Sunday I will do the crossword.

I will have bagels.

I will have lots and lots of juice.

Not orange.

Orange juice is the government's way of brainwashing...

They do that so they get you when you're young and stupid and will drink it because that's what you're supposed to do.

I still think he's trying to kill me.

Random Poem from forever ago...

As I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear all evil.

For it is all around me. It surrounds and swallows my will to live.

To keep walking I must lose pieces of my soul. One for every time I look back and dream of the easy way out.

The way that only the weak take... I am not weak.

I am strong. I defeat the ever looming, ever lurking reality.

I keep walking.

Thinking of what I have to walk for. What lies on this path through  

Hell.

I face my demons, I scream for salvation from the damned.

I receive no such releif. Only laughter from the ones bound to protect me.

I keep walking.

My life. My love. My sanity. My existance.

All lie at the end of the road I am destined to walk.

A beautiful face, a loving embrace.

A place to call home. Even if I never go back, I kow that it will always wait.

I need never look for love, for I have found it.

I keep walking.

Tales of my life flow in and out of my mind.

I hear the soft laughter of the ones waiting on the other side of this realm.

It gives me hope to know that I am part of the happiness that resides within them.

I keep walking.

There is so much to do. So much to see...

I scream and fall to my knees from the pain of this chosen path.

It holds me there. Paralyzed in its grasp, I want to give up.

Give in.

Soft coos, the feel of a gentle kiss full of all the love it ever promised and more.

I struggle.

I beat  and tear at the hold on me. Call out to whoever created this abyss.

It cannot hold me down.

I overcome the obstacle, and rise from my knees.

I keep walking.

The end nearing, I grow weary. Thoughts of rest fill my mind.

I start to run.

I will never give up, never surrender.

I will break through the haze of the valley before me.

I will be home.

safe in the arms of the one I gave my heart to, smiled upon by the part of that heart that crawls around outside of me.

I will win.

There is nothing I can't do. Nothing I won't do.

I keep running.

Just as cannot go anymore, I am home. Arms strong and full of love envelope me. Comfort me.

Give me the strength I need to make it through another day.

Nothing will ever hold me back.

I gain my greatest strength from the ones who hold my heart.

They free me from the darkest corners of my mind.

I keep going for them.

Promises; Another blast from the past...

Biting her lower lip, she stared into the mirror…

She could see her slightly large nose, her chipped front tooth, the dark circles under green eyes… She was staring so hard she squinted. The reflection squinted back. It was like she saw someone scrutinizing her, telling her she was damaged. She wished the person in the mirror wasn’t so familiar. She closed her eyes to make the assailant fade away.

She was such a drama queen… That’s what her dad said to her everyday over the phone… She couldn’t disagree with him. There was no one in the mirror. It was herself she was so afraid of. It hurt to close her eyes to the truth, but she squeezed them just a little tighter to drown out her conscience.

There was a soft knock at the door, and she opened one eye. She knew he would come to try and take her away… he always tried to save her. The only question was did that make her crazy? Did him rescuing her from absolutely nothing make her one of those crazy people in the padded cells?

“Honey? Is everything okay? Can I come in?”

She cleared her throat and tried to choke back the hot tears of embarrassment. “Come on in, babe. Everything’s fine.” She had become such a liar…

“So, um, whatcha been doing in here?” He tried so hard to sound normal, but his face gave away his concern that she was doing it again. Sadly enough, she was.

“Just trying to clear out some of the clutter… did you know we have like ten bottles of shampoo? I never knew that we had so much space in this bathroom!” She smiled her chipped smile, catching it in the mirror.

She didn’t know that when she smiled, she melted him to the core. She was his goddess. He loved her with passion and fire fit for worship. He had never noticed her chipped tooth, her circles, or the fact that her nose was a little too big for her delicate face. He thought she was an angel. He would die to make her happy.

“I guess we need to stop making a rats nest out of our apartment… It really is small enough already. Hey, sweetheart, want some help in here? It is half my mess, too, you know.”

“Oh honey, it really isn’t your job to clean. If you want, though, you can scrub the toilet. It needs it around the rim.” Her loud laughter made his knees weak. She was smiling a real smile. It warmed his heart to see it. It had been so long…

“For that, gorgeous, I will gladly scrub the toilets of hell…”

“For what?” She giggled and leaned into his broad chest, stroking his neck with a tiny hand.

“That amazing smile, the laughter, the love I feel when I’m near you…”

She looked up at the man she loved more than anyone in the world, and smiled. She couldn’t help but be happy when he was near her. He was her everything. He made her feel like a princess. She was giddy for him. She reached up with her mouth, and kissed his chin. He was so much taller than her…

He kissed her back. A long, drawn out, lazy kiss. One full of the love and heat he felt for her. He had saved her again, and she was responding much better than she ever had. Could this mean she was starting to get better?

“Hand me the brush, and I’m off to slay the scum dragons!” He winked at her and made a low bow.

“Yes, my knight in shining boxers, save me from the evil king scumbag, and his germmenites!” Again, her gorgeous laughter filled his heart.

She went on about the underside of the sink. Thoughts of how happy they were crept into her head. She only wished she could overcome her obstacles for him… it was all so hard, and she was well aware of the fact that he laid awake almost every night and tried to come up with new ways to help her.

She tried every day to stop feeling the way she felt. Like she should give up. She saw all the flaws in her life before the perfections. She thought about her mother a lot, too. She was just like her in her own eyes.

She thought she’d do what she had done…

It scared her. It made her very aware of the resemblance between her, and the woman on the other side of the glass. The woman who had hurt so many…

On the other side of the partition, her knight in shining armor was elbow deep in cleaning their tiny toilet, and even deeper in thought. A tiny bit of water splashed into his face. He paid no attention to the Clorox scented water.

What had brought on the sudden happiness in his lover? He knew she was staring at her mother’s reflection again. Something he couldn’t help but question. She was nothing like her, and he couldn’t make her see.

He had met her while he visited his brother. Locked away for grand theft auto over three years ago. She had been visiting a woman he had originally thought to be her twin. She was so beautiful; he couldn’t help but almost accost her for her number.

They had gone out on a beautiful date. He had fallen in love with her when he kissed her goodnight. She was everything he had ever wanted. His soul mate. It was only months later, when he found her almost dead in her kitchen, that he realized if he was ever going to get to spend eternity with her, he would have to save her from herself first.

He had moved her into a tiny apartment off fifth and sixth. He had let her quit her jobs. He had given her a ring. Given her his hand. His heart. They went to see her mother every week. The therapist he had also given her thought that if he could go with her, listen to what went on, and tell her all the differences he found, it would help.

Nothing was helping. All he could do was watch. Wait.

The woman who haunted his wife’s mind had killed a family of four. Her lover’s family. Her lover. She had hurt her father by cheating on him. Then when things didn’t go as planned, she hurt her lover.

How very CSI…

What he couldn’t understand was how his beautiful and loving wife could ever think she was predestined to do the same.

He could only assume that since she saw her mother in the mirror, she was afraid eventually, she would become her mother. It was so absurd to him, but he could understand her fears.

She had told the therapist, and eventually him, about why she felt this way. She had fallen in love.

She told them both that she was so afraid that history would repeat itself. That their fairytale romance would go cold, she would look for passion, and find it in the arms of another man. That man would hurt her, and she would hurt him back. That she would not only hurt that random man, but in the process, hurt the man she loved beyond reason.

He knew she could, nor would, never do that, but it was so hard to make her understand he saw into her soul, and knew it could never happen. If she would only listen…

“Am I safe for another week, my love?” He reveled in the sound of her happy voice.

“Yes. You are safe now, and forever more, for you have me. And I will never let anything hurt you!” he tried to make it sound light, but the heaviness of his thoughts clouded his voice.

“Methinks someone wants to talk…”

“Methinks you think right. Will you take a walk with me? This apartment makes me claustrophobic.”

“I would follow you anywhere, and you know that. Let me grab some shoes, and I’ll meet you at the door.”

She had known this day would come. The day he could no longer keep his thoughts private. She was ready to listen now, after so many years… she only hoped he could understand if it didn’t help. A wave washed over her. A wave of hope.

Hope…

At the door, she was greeted with his dazzling smile and rumpled jeans. No matter how much ironing she did, he wouldn’t let her iron those jeans. They fit him to a tee… he was so handsome. She couldn’t help but grin at him.

“What?”

“You look handsome in those ratty things, and I can’t figure out why.”

“Well, then it must be one of life’s little mysteries, or the fact that I am just so sexy…”

“It’s definitely the latter, hon. You’re always dead on…” her laugh was melodic to him. He was almost in a state of hypnotism just standing where he could see and smell her. Taste the scent of the one he loved.

“Let’s go, angel. We have a lot of walking to do.”

“Lead the way.”

Four blocks later, Starbucks in hand, he finally began to tell her what was on his mind.

Fifty blocks in, she was sitting on a bench beside him, hand in hand. They were both crying. Passersby thought it might have been a death in the family, or even a tiny lovers’ quarrel. It was neither.

It was the two of them realizing that she wasn’t hopeless, and he was the cure to her disease. She couldn’t believe the things he told her.

“You just don’t realize how much I love you. I can see your soul, Nick. You’re not her. Don’t make yourself become her. She’s so fucked up, baby. You’re not. Please… just, I don’t know, just love me. I love you… can you just be happy with me?”

She could just be happy with him. She knew it. Therapists could not help her overcome her fears, but the love of the one she loved could. She was finally starting to believe the words he had told her for so long. It had taken so long for him to open up and be real, instead of real weird, about all of it.

Gone were the days of trying to say something constructive… at block 37, she had told him to let it all out. Get angry if he wanted. Scream and rant, hit her even. Just be real…

At block forty, he let it all out. And it was all the thoughts he had had what seemed like an eternity ago, scrubbing away the germminites in their apartment. She had been such a good listener. She hadn’t gotten mad, she hadn’t walked away… she just listened.

When he had said his peace, they sat on a bench. They didn’t say anything.

They cried together.

She had taken his hand… hers was so small, and his so big…

They were going to be alright.

She was going to be alright…

He had promised her eternity.

He had promised her sanity. He had fulfilled all his promises, and now it was her turn.

Broken; A piece written long ago...

She sat on the floor of her room, surrounded by pictures of her past. A half-empty bottle of vodka sat beside an astray full of spent cigarettes. One still lit filled her lungs and the air with acrid smoke.

Tears ran down her pale cheeks from red, puffy, dull eyes that glistened in the flickering candle light.

Pain seemed to suffocate any light or life that entered the space she occupied. Another swallow of liquor, another cigarette lit, she picked up another photograph and stared. Fresh tears ripped through her. Sobs racked her tiny frame. If she could only die... She wanted the release of death the way addict fiends for the next big score... It was what she craved... Desired...

Needed.

The quality of her life could only sustain her for so long... She didn't eat anymore... Her friends told her

she had a disease...

No shit.

She tore at the picture until it resembled her once beautiful life. A now broken dream; tiny, irreparable pieces of what was. Her glowing smile, her intoxicatingly optimistic personality, her reasons for living...

They were all broken.

She was broken.

A strange word to use for a person, but her emotions left her almost a robot. She was programmed now to only perform basic functions, and gone were the days of extracting joy from life. She ate, she slept, she breathed.

Until even that had become too much... So she stopped eating. She stopped sleeping...

All that was left to her was breathing... And now that was becoming too hard...

She was barely alive...

So another swallow of vodka, and another photograph. Oh God, they look so happy... she and Him. She destroyed the picture in mirror fashion to all the others. Sobbing even harder, she tore at her arms and legs with bloody, bitten nails.

She screamed.

Her cigarette was extinguished on the pale, taunt skin of her foot. She wanted to feel the pain...

Immediately she lit another, and tossed the empty pack to the side. She groped around in the fleeting light to find another. She heard her conscience tell her to stop. No more. Get over it.

Live...

She stared at all the tiny pieces of photo... Hopelessness filled her.

What was the point of life now?

Him...

Another photo, and another glimpse at her budding insanity, brought an astray settling on the other side of the room in a pile of ashes and glass.

Broken...

Just like her.

A rusted and discarded razorblade found itself making a jagged path down a shrunken breast. Blood welled up and trickled down to a scabbed and shriveled nipple. Congealing only for a moment, it found its way to the disgusting floor between her legs.

So ashamed of her body she'd become...

She wanted to cleanse it...

Squeezing on her breast, she erupted in a cacophony of metallic laughter as blood continued to flow unimpeded to the floor. The sound was inhuman... The once creamy skin was tainted with blood.

First bright.

Then dull.

She found a crumpled up shirt of His... It needed washing weeks ago... She scrubbed at her fresh wound.

There was so much pain...

So much pain she convulsed, writhing in agony.

It was so good...

Sweet death...

So close, yet so far... She felt like God was punishing her, keeping her on some sort of sick and twisted life support...

So many pictures to destroy... it was so nice of Him to leave her to her memories...

Cleansed. She wasn't cleansed... She still had Him in her system...

All of this was His fault. He made her do this. Made her hate so strongly the life she once loved.

He broke her.

Yes...

She put her cigarette out on her breast. The sizzle of the hot ash mixing with the blood was music to her.

She smiled... and the smile, which once lit up entire rooms, now shone of dark madness.

It faded.

She slung an empty bottle at someone who wasn't there. It shattered satisfyingly against some unseen surface, and with a nod of approval, she opened another and drank deeply from it.

She shuddered.

Another cigarette lit, she groped for another photograph.

A beautiful black and white... Her life was now all black and white.

Not beautiful...

She licked her dry, cracked lips, and set the picture on fire.

She watched it burn into nothing. She wanted to be the picture...

She wailed into the night.

She pulled out a handful of dirty, disgusting hair. She felt blood well up in her scalp.

She burned it with insanity now shining bright in her dull eyes.

The ring finger on her left hand was now the enemy. She burned it.

No one was there to hear her agonizing screams as she watched the flesh blacken... bubble... seemingly melt off...

Until there was nothing but bone...

This madness had to end...

She was through playing this game...

Through.