Tight Rope

“I find it’s a tightrope between being vigilantly observant of everything going on in the world and also having enough space and time to appreciate God’s good earth the way it was intended to be appreciated.”

— Lana del Rey

Posted at at September 09, 2018 on Sunday, September 9, 2018 by |   | Filed under:

Traffic Stop

“Where’s home?”

“Chicago.”

“Where you coming from?”

“Los Angeles, via Phoenix.”

“What were you doing in Los Angeles?”

“Drinking and having sex with random guys off of Scruff.”

“Have a nice day.”

Posted at at September 08, 2018 on Saturday, September 8, 2018 by |   | Filed under:

“She’s Running Again.”

I was offered a cuddle date and I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea given the frame of mind I’m in.

I shrugged and said alright. 

Breathe. 

Stop acting like a kicked puppy or a victim.

Get centered again.

We watched the Golden Girls and talked and I laughed a lot, I actually cheered up.

We didn’t do anything, just cuddled and watched the Estrogen Channel.

He kicked me out to go to work in the morning so I went back to Phoenix to kick it with Chris.

I got invited over a second night.

Shrug, okay.

I raised an eyebrow going to the store with him. He was impatient and angry at a car that was going through a green arrow slowly in front of us.

Then he was kind of bitchy at old people in his way at the grocery store.

Sigh. I was like that when I’m younger.

But I’m not now.

And he’s 41.

Duly noted.

Then a third night, lol.

This time I eyeballed the garbage can and saw four empty beer cans.

I thought, oh good, now I’ll really get to know what he’s about.

We went over to his boss’s house, I guess that’s what they do on Fridays: Turn on the projector, watch music videos, drink, rinse lather and repeat.

With a pool in the back yard and a sky full of stars I almost envy them for it.

Gay couples being gay couples, they’re the “play together die alone type,” the boss was into me and the partner can’t stand me. Hey, I’ve seen this rerun before!

I excused myself to go to the bathroom and the boss offered to drink out of the tap.

My dick twitched a little and I went oh this isn’t going to be awkward at all tonight.

I liked the visual of him on his knees servicing me more than I was about to let on.

My companion isn’t my boyfriend, but tonight, and as far as this town is concerned, he is. I’m not the type of guy who’s gonna fuck your friends let alone your married friends. Or your boss for that matter.

*cough*

I had a shot or two or three to be polite, and I held my alcohol fine... as did the partner.

The guy I was visiting, and his boss, not so much.

The boss went to bed to pass out and the partner kept trying to grab my toes and crack them. I yelped in pain twice the first two times and on the third time I felt a need to say, look, my toes don’t crack, I have arthritis, that hurts and I’m telling you, please do not do that again.

He was sour with me after that.

I sleep from about 10pm to 4am and it was well past midnight and time for me to go back into my box. I was about 5 minutes away from hitting the wall where I’m tired, crabby, and pissed off that we’re still out and about. Finally he suggested we go home.

I think that’s a good idea.

He said he was sorry the partner was a dick and that he’s like that to everyone. 

It wasn’t just the toes thing, he’d made a snide comment about my weight and poked me in the stomach and some other cunty bullshit. 

I’ve lost about 30 pounds, I’m not as sensitive about this as I would have been a couple of months ago. 

I told him I don’t care. I know all sorts of evil queens who are shitty to me and that I don’t give a fuck, I just hand it right back to them and give them lots of room.

Yeah he was kind of a cunt but it wasn’t that bad. I barbacked for a cabaret of drag queens and those bitches had me sitting in the walk in cooler crying sometimes before I grew a pair, stopped being such a cuck, and started giving them shit right back.

He was pretty wasted and wouldn’t stop apologizing all the way to his place.

This continued in bed.

If I hadn’t had a little to drink I might have just said goodnight and left.

I told him I don’t think sitting here apologizing all night is fun for you and it isn’t fun for me either, so can we stop this?

He tells me he’s used to people telling him he’s a worthless piece of shit.

I said “I have an idea, why don’t you just chill out and try to be “enough” for once?”

He laid out all his problems.

I was bleary eyed and clearly not drunk enough for all of this but I listened until he finally passed out. 

I plucked the water bottle out of his hand and turned off the TV.

I felt like I was looking into a mirror. I used to have poor boundaries and lay out the case for how damaged I think I am, too.

I don’t have too many secrets, I’d told him a few things I normally wouldn’t right away as well. But I only do that if I think it will be helpful to you or you’re coming at me with that level of interpersonal sharing too.

I could relate to what he was telling me but I think I’ve worked through some of that at this point in my life.

He kept trying to cuddle last night but the booze coming off of him was so strong you might have needed the bomb and arson squad if you lit a cigarette in there.

He said he wanted me to stay another night.

I wanted to be in my own bed.

I wanted to curl up in front of my stereo.

I wanted to get into my car and play some music that I’d enjoy.

I wanted to get out of there and center myself.

I don’t really like being around drunk people anymore.

He said he was really going to miss me.

I had a mostly nice time up until all that too.

Posted at at September 08, 2018 on by |   | Filed under:

“If you spot it you’ve got it.”

“I don’t know why my minds so twisted lately.”

I hesitated and offered: “Probably drugs.”

“Yeah, you are spot on.”

Posted at at September 08, 2018 on by |   | Filed under:

Autumn Checklist

✅ Friends are all dead 
✅ Up before dawn to feed the geese
✅ Can’t finish coffee or breakfast at IHOP
✅ Angry that businesses don’t open until 10:00am
✅ Bored enough to go power walk at Macy’s.

Posted at at September 06, 2018 on Thursday, September 6, 2018 by |   | Filed under:

Feeling Arizona

I’m out in the Arizona desert kicking rocks and grumbling at life.

I looked up and there was a little shrine out here.

I took a few minutes to sit down and write about it. 

I picked up some garbage. 

I straightened up the flowers.

I repositioned a broken saints head.

I left it just a little bit better then I found it.

At least I stopped thinking about this anymore.






Posted at at September 05, 2018 on Wednesday, September 5, 2018 by |   | Filed under:

It’s 8:40 Somewhere

I usually regret dipping my toe back into social media for one reason or another.

I’m not going to get into all the details, let’s say that I’m not having a good day.

I had a brief dalliance / flirtation with someone in the program a long time ago, and I’m not going to go full on victim or kicked puppy here but I dropped my guard and entertained the whole thing.

He spent the night. It’s possible we didn’t have sex.

I talked to him after that he was short and impatient with me. I took the hint and I wasn’t so rude as to intrude again. 

Never heard from him again.

He goes to add me on Facebook, it’s been several years since we last spoke. I briefly let him know that I didn’t appreciate him icing me out the way he did.

He replies “Suit yourself.”

I said “Yeah, I will, thanks. I liked you and you were kind of a dick and I’ve since forgotten you existed.”

It’s bad enough that I already left all my clocks set at 8:40am for one dude for as many years as I did.

Don’t fuck with me.

Don’t give me those eyes.

Don’t hold me like like that.

Don’t kiss me like that.

If you ghost, you’d better stay a ghost.

Posted at at September 05, 2018 on by |   | Filed under:

[Ride Monologue]

I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer.

At night I fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them.

Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times.

I was a singer - not a very popular one, I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.

But I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I'd been living, they asked me why - but there's no use in talking to people who have home.

They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people - for home to be wherever you lay your head.

I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean...

And if I said I didn't plan for it to turn out this way I'd be lying...

Because I was born to be the other woman.
Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone.

Who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn't even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me.

Every night I used to pray that I'd find my people, and finally I did on the open road.

We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives into a work of art.

Live fast. Die young. Be wild. And have fun.

I believe in the country America used to be.

I believe in the person I want to become.

I believe in the freedom of the open road.

And my motto is the same as ever:

"I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I'm at war with myself I ride, I just ride."

Who are you?

Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies?

Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?

I have. 

I am fucking crazy.

But I am free.

— Lana del Rey (“Ride” monologue)

Posted at at September 05, 2018 on by |   | Filed under: