A Turn or is it "U" turn?

Well, I've decided to revamp my beloved (albeit neglected) blog for a more noble use: How to's? Random Ideas? Recipes? The occasional rant? Maybe one, perhaps all. I can be so fickle at times. Nevertheless, this post has an actual purpose. I'm wanting to share a poem I wrote a few days ago when I was in one of those surreal moods. Enjoy.

The apple of Sodom-

Bare fruit, bare breasted
Baring all - barring none.
Stark red alters made
Sacrificing not life-but force-
God’s blind; ad populum arrange
Call forward eruption glass
Creation maintain- reinforce
The artificial skin-hardening
Mirror beauty, concerns.
Symbolic image, rounded red.
Disease’s birth wanting-
Undo what was never done.
Etching stone, natural fingers
Virgin secret forged will
Discover locks and gates-
Keeping time for time
And mindful of their disguise
Theatre smiles and lying eyes
Eternal echo ethereal erase.



Please share all thoughts and opinions!

Sometimes I Can't Even Stand Myself

Often, I feel as if there is something seriously wrong with me. Not a cold or anything else charmingly mundane- its something I don't understand and that lack of understanding manifests itself in horrible ways. I can't do stress. I know most people say that but I REALLY mean it; I lose my mind and regress back to infancy within 60 seconds. This can't be normal.

I know quite a few people who self-medicate for this same kind of problem but I, in my ignorant and naive idea of self-control, refuse to be medicated for anything because, well, there's nothing wrong with me- right?

I like to think that, ya know. I'm normal and everyone else is defective. Obviously I'm wrong... I think it's grown worse actually. I hate being around people and I have no want to socialize because I think most are crude and selfish. I have very few people who could be considered friends and I don't go out of my way to make new ones. Actually, I go out of my way to avoid new people.

I'm tired.

I find it funny that people tell you something and say, "No matter what". Well, that's just complete shit, isn't it? Really? No matter what? Are you sure? "I won't leave you, no matter what." Yeah, we'll see... won't we?

The Social Structure of the Modern Middle Class

So far I have yet to understand how society works. Is it normal to feel like an outsider in every social situation? I do try, mind you, but even when I adopt the artificial smile and mimic the slight nuances of meaningless conversation, it still fails. I don't know if I detest the artifice of the whole act so much that it distorts what should be pleasant into something mocking and monstrous or perhaps I'm just really bad at it. Who knows...

In spite of my obvious failures in this regard, I have learned the surface rules of our disturbing culture:

1- Even if you don't care, pretend to with as much faked enthusiasm as possible.

2- Be shallow. We're talking REALLY shallow. Don't worry about the more profound and worrisome aspects of life. You should only discuss who did what to whom and how shocked you are by it.

3- Belong to a social circle. This holds true for parents who live vicariously through their children via sports, dance, or any other activity your children participate in only to seek a second of your approval. In southern states, these circles typically exist in Churches and these people can be some of the most unpleasant folks you'd ever encounter.

4- Keep up appearances. I do mean "keep up"... at all costs!!! You must look a certain way, own certain things, and your family must be composed of specific types of personalities. Otherwise, you're doomed. If your children show signs of independence, free-thought, or a taste for the odd; you must rewire them immediately into hate-filled, elitist, automatons. (For their own good, of course.)


As silly and infantile as these rules may seem, they are, nevertheless, standard for every circle. I wish the rest of you luck in shaving off the tidbits of your personality that won't fit nicely into said mold- I know that I've failed at it completely.

Beware! Self-Aware!

I've never considered myself old. I'm sure most feel the same way and then, one day, you wake up and joints pop and jar more than usual- a lot more than usual. You fumble around and finally make your way to the vanity mirror only to discover that the light you've always recognized is fizzling and your face seems a bit more plain. What a horrid feeling. You panic.

Am I really that person? The old maid who keeps too much to herself and who is, no doubt, too much or too little to love? Is there really a perfect mixture? I constantly wonder as to if there really is something off about me. Do I ask too much? Require too much? Do I really hold people to such high standards that they break their ignoble necks when they finally fall from the astronomically high pedestal I have placed them on? Surely not! Not I!!

I have given multiple soap-box speeches against the institution of marriage but why do I give them? I actually think I give them to hide something. I'm drowning my self-doubt with a simple face-saving technique; if you can't join them, beat them! Not that I'm not grateful that my past relationships ended, because I am- believe me. I do, however, wonder what other people have that I don't. Since no one has offered me logical reasons, I do exactly what a reasonable person shouldn't do; I make them up. I wonder why no man secretly plans and purchases an engagement ring for me... Well, there is no real wonder there; I can be a perfect nightmare of a creature sometimes- but who isn't?

Needed: A Purpose and a Hammer

It's comin' up a flood outside and here I am without a stockpile of pliable wood and no message from God. Damn...

Breaking Up Really Isn't Hard To Do

I haven't written anything in months. I'm ashamed of myself, really. Blank pages intimidate now instead of provoking me to fill them with whatever inane dribble that fills the catacomb of my mind. What happened?

I can faintly hear my muse. She never left, she only bides her time waiting on me to pull my shit together and get back in the game. She's particular about the company I keep. I've purged myself of undesirables. Perhaps that's why she's whispering to me once again.

My days are proudly wearing now. Hope is something I typically don't allow myself. Its always been a privilege for others but never applicable to me. Disappointment doesn't strike me as deeply as it once did. Its blade has dulled and shrank in lieu of a more suited affliction; happiness.

I don't know why I always decide to write in the early hours of the morning when sleep escapes me and the only thing that keeps me company is the hum of electronics. Everyone else is sleeping soundly as one should at six a.m. Why am I awake?

Regardless, I'll find my way back here more often and remain faithful to this lifelong romance.

So, Where's My Net?

I should be asleep. Typically when I post, that's the first and final phrase that runs through my mind.

I used to write constantly about my idea of love and what it would be like if I were to experience it (or not, whatever the case may be.) Needless to say, I'm doggy-paddling quickly to the deep end. What have I found?

Well, I'm not sure. I have experienced unequivocal bliss and heart-wrenching pain. I catch myself doing what I swore I never would. Never give anyone all of yourself, I would say, because you'll have nothing left. Was I right?

I have no idea. I'm fearful that I was correct in that observation because I have, fully, given myself over to someone and now he has the ability to crush me. I regret it sometimes. I wish I could have remained resolute in my outlook on the horrid nature of other people... but I didn't. I ask myself constantly if it was a mistake and if this will be my undoing or...

my catalyst for change. I suppose only time can tell and I hope that time is a kind mistress.