if you conquer and are adorable you must be conquistadorable

I hate it when people leave. Really, I hate goodbyes and I hate missing people, especially people I love. That is all. It's a big pile of suck.

Seven weeks later? I feel like I am a completely different person than I was at the beginning of this summer .I have grown a lot and faced the mortality of the people I love most.

1. My father has been diagnosed with terminal liver cancer. He has one to two years. I have been trying to heal my relationship with him and find my effort one sided. I understand that he is sick but it just hurts that he is apparently unwilling to try to heal our wounds and go with love from each other before he passes.

2. Love although important is not my priority. Well, let me be specific as to say that romantic love is not my priority. My friends and family are the center of my life now. Over the last three months I have really tapped into my mothering spirit, taking in stray boys and feeding them and helping them. Throwing dinner parties for my poor college student friends. Mostly I am just trying to give as much as I want to without expecting things back from people, some how this has been healing for me in more ways than I can even express.

3. I have started several writing projects, one can be found at www.loveforstrangers.blogspot.com
The other is all on paper and since I have no scanner I have no way of showing it on here but I can explain a little. 500 drunken love letters, collected randomly, I have written a few, so have strangers and friends. Of course most of my favorites are ones written to me. (I'm still young enough to be a little self centered)

My cat is pregnant again which I find annoying but it is probably my fault for being irresponsible.

I have been unemployed for nine months which I find highly gratifying (unemployment compensation and working under the table are awesome things)

I struggle to keep my ups. But my downs are less severe.

And that's all I can think of right now but I feel like this is a decent update.

www.loveforstrangers.blogspot.com

Its hot, and deserty.
I am going to see Brad. Nervous, worried we won't like each other as much this time... I am anxious but I think it will be nice to get away from everything for a while....I just hope we get along.



wish me luck.

Is in the hospital, it's serious, I am so scared. Details later.

So. This is my plan. I am moving back home to Ketchum Idaho for the summer. I need to re-ground myself and get back in touch with what I want from life. I will be moving to Portland in the fall.  I want to go to school for creative writing with a minor in journalism. Also philosophy is in consideration. I need to radically change my life. I  am sick of acting like an overgrown teenager, I am sick of being depressed ALL THE TIME.  I need to do something starting now. So here goes.

1. I have serious issues with follow through and commitment, I am afraid if I try to do anything I will fail and so I never do anything.

2. My cat just gave birth to 3 tiny sylvester type kittens.

3. I am moving to Portland in an attempt to change and better myself and I feel like a change of scene will help me get motivated.

4. I am in love with 6 different men.

My life is a lovely mess.

Making choices as of late is proving difficult. My romantic antics seem to have no cap to stop the madness. I am literally drowning in suitors but really I want a guy who has a higher IQ than his dick measures in inches. Or a man that has read more books than he has fucked women. 

I want something tangible and genuine. 

Show me truth.

I DARE YOU.

I am not sure I believe in anything anymore.

Nihilism is eating me whole. Like canned sardines, bones and all. I feel like I am still a teenager waiting for life to happen. I can't believe this may be all there is... Love is the only magic left after you grow up. And sometimes even that proves faulty. 

But still...
If your love were an apple I would eat it to the core. And then swallow the seeds and grow a magic apple tree to replace the space where my heart used to be.

I am tired of feeling alone, I am tired of everything feeling like its too hard, Ia m tired of making new friends and letting old ones go. Breaking up with friends is harder than lovers, I am so so so FUCKING TIRED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I will miss you more than you know. I wish things hadn't been so hard for you that taking your life was the only option.

Small town kids, each trying to shake their own version of stage fright,
opposites,
palindromes
wont lovers revolt now? (won tlover srevol tnow)
brought together in an attempt to tame the spoken poem.
my words felt like sticky egg yolks that night and my pen still stutters as it catches my tongue.
then, this curly haired childhood memory, shouting into a room of posies,
laying them to waste with a MILLION WATTS of literary oomph.
you (this boy)
a glowing heliotrope
(thats a fancy word for sunflower)
but not feminine at all.
Just a reminder of the sun, poking up out of a bed of daisies and looking at the sky like;
"oh, I can climb fucking higher than that!!!"
the first step of seduction was words, two timing words, word seeping in my weary ears and waking up the little girl that just wants her very own poem.
The punctuation in your presence put stars in my eyes like hard contact with a boxing glove
seeking to cure my sobriety,
again,
I found you...
A japanese sunrise wrapped around your brow,
the attention of the table leaned into you,
house plants trying to catch the rain.
6 vodka tonics deep I found myself shoes and socks removed, as comfortable in your lap as bunny slippers.
We bartered with our tongues on borrowed blankets and delayed the morning,
I lost my socks.
We both lost sleep to near naked murmurs in a strangers bed.
after RESTless rest you got up and quietly named me good morning, walked out into the hangover soaked dawn and gave it a poet's greeting.
I watched,
trying to scrub the burn of your kisses from my cheeks,
leaving a parched blush behind as the rest of the house stirred.
We parted, easy as two halves of an oreo, (cream and wafer)
couplea hours of driving and I will be just another midnight snack.
but, I guess what I am really trying to say is, I might,
Maybe?
Like you.
Despite your distaste for my musical choices and regardless of the fact that you were once just an uncool seventh grader with the moon for a hairdo,
And I? I was that one girl that liked everyone,
(but no one liked me)
Now, we've grown, passed through films of awkward adolescence into I guess?
Adults?
Of course seeing you again will be inevitable,

Who knows how it will be?
Who knows what we will say?

All I know is this,
You will definately still be a heliotrope...

And brighten my day.............

Here's a poem I wrote for Tyler when we were still together, it was the middle of the night and I couldn't sleep.

Three Thirteen
I love the reverse impression wrinkled bedsheets leave on your sleeping skin,
your breath sour buttermilk,
your dreams escape in hand gestures.
Snoring clings to you like wet silk and I promise,
I hear your doubts in your exhale.
I'm pretty sure you've discovered where I hide my sleep and wrested it from me while I wasn't paying attention.
Fine, I say, you can sleep for the two of us.
But here I am alone, mere moments from the beggining of your day and the end of mine.
With nothing but the oddest  hours of the day and almost incoherent electric hum to be my companion to insomnia junkie-isms.
At this point in the night everything rushes through my mind like a movie reel stuck fast forwarding.
I can't do anything but ponder the glimpses I catch while it screams past,
 a will of its own I swear.
I swear I wear your dreams as you leave them,
 me wrapped in the early morning residue of you.
And every morning, I pretend to be asleep when you kiss me goodbye.
Flutter my eye lids like dying bird's wings and squint at the artificail sun planted like and upside down daisy in the plaster ceiling.
Its always the warmest right before you leave, an ungodly cold rushes in to fill the space you leave behind.
I think of your delicate fleathered plumage,
The delicate thought and study going into composing your wings.
Somedays scatter to the wind in seconds, others I think they will withstand the tests of time longer than anything else.
These, these are my thoughts of you. Here and now, 3:13 am. Monday morning. Only god's ears are awake now.

And then a month or two later we have been broken up but still living together, he's my couch person now, I thought things were fine but then he just gave me this....

Letter
seems its my turn to be awake in the middle of the night and alone
my turn to have nothing to do but write
trying to catch some of these things as they wiz by
my turn to try to make something out in all the posibilities

i miss you,
i miss you more because you're right there
i miss you more because if i ask to roll over closer to me you will
i miss you more because if i run my hand down your collar bone, you moan
and i know that it's your tired mind wanting to fall back to your dreams
but it reminds me of when we would moan together spending all night doing laundry

so i touch you again
and you don't roll away
because then i would know you didn't want me to

so i touch you again
and you don't roll towards me
because then i would know you wanted to keep going

so i touch you again
and you don't touch me back
because then i would know that you felt the same

so i touch you again
and you moan
because you can feel it
and i know you can feel it
and i don't know what to do

then it hits me
like a little creature sitting on my chest tapping me on the head
"hey Tyler"
"I'll bet you a million bucks this is exactly how she felt towards you"

and I'm not staying there to take his bet
and I'm certainly not getting any sleep
so i get up

and here i am at 6 in the morning
my turn to write you a letter
I'll be laying back down in a bit
and i wanted to say I'm sorry
because unlike you
i wasn't asleep




post script:


(laundry means sex its  this inside joke thing we had)

Ugh rip my fucking heart out right? 

I got this to remind myself that I have a choice, and oh man can we discuss my options right now.

Tyler and I broke up, which is fine, he is one of my best friends and this was a nearly painless and easy transition. However, the stack of boyfriend resumes on my desk is getting a little overwhelming, I have never had an experience like this before where many men are vying for my love.

Lets begin with the beginning...

My ex Ryan wants me to move to Portland with him and be together for "if not forever than a really long time." He told me he would get me a pony if only I will submit to my love. Lunatic right? I've been receiving his daily declarations of love for about the past month. He's demonically drunk dial and sober dialing me.

Two, we have my friend Brandon that is also friends with Tyler, he drove me to my mother's farm three weeks ago and we made out one night, he then let me know he has had a crush on me since we met (about 7 months ago). And he and I have been talking about the pros and cons of pursuing a relationship.

Then there is Jason and Morgan. Two sweet boys, neither want a relationship but "enjoy my company and would consider me a candidate for romantic involvement" Jason is an artist and a drama kid, Morgan is a musician in three bands, and then,
bum
bum
bum

the wild card.

Luke,
is a professional composer and is currently getting his masters in Music. The man composes for orchestras for gods sake, and we have been spending a good part of each day together since we met. He's fun and amazing and likes me in a way I have never seen before. I don't know what to do, but he's the first boy I have ever made stutter when I put on a fancy dress.

Choices, see?
HELP!

I really don't know what to do.

Every available option has merit and my heart is being am indecisive cunt.

Fuck my life,
being a kid in a candy store when you aren't hungry and have diabetes sucks.

I feel incredibly restless at the moment, I want to be anywhere but home today, four days of sick and no end in sight. I hate these in between feelings that keep coming up for me. I fell unsure of what I want to do with myself, where I want to go, what I want to be. Everything is just so undecided and it makes me panic because I am 22 and shouldn't I have a fucking plan by now? It seems like everyone else does. But maybe its just me and my own head. I feel so directionless. I held Tyler's cousin's newborn girl today and it was the only time my mind relaxed. Maybe I am just one of those women that has to get breeding out of the way first before I can focus on anything outside of fucking and babies. I feel like am boring, does everyone have nights that stretch endlessly into the distance and nothing cures it? FUCK

If I am just easy to flake on or if I find myself attracted to flakes?
Hmmmmm....

I had so much fun last night.
U-God gave me his number, and I got on their tour bus, the RZA gave me a hug. I would have hung out but didn't want to be a band whore.
I think GZA asked me to have his babies. It was a crazy night.
So fun!
No more Irish Car Bomb for Grace.

This is what he does to cheer me up at midnight.
How can I not want to have sex with this man?
Yeah, thats all

So, today I feel like I weigh one million pounds and I want to light all my clothes on fire.
This is starting to become a typical once a week thing for me and I really hate it. I've had a really rough week. I found out two weeks ago I was pregnant. Not very far only five weeks but none the less I was faced with an incredibly difficult choice. As much as I want to be a mom I am just not ready. But I also have made an agreement with myself and my boyfriend that this is the last time. I just cannot put myself through this again. Its hurts so much in all ways. But the strange thing is, now that its over, I am totally fine. I cried and hurt and freaked out the whole time up until the moment of and then I found myself in this inexplicable calm and motivation that I haven't experienced for about a year, but feeling okay makes me feel guilty. I am such a weird conniption ridden person. My mom freaked out as well, she really wants to be a grandma. But now, the storm has passed and everything is a little better than back to normal. I feel strange, I am waiting for the post abortion depression to come screaming out of the sky and fall on me like a piano. It hasn't come yet though. All I have left now are huge boobs I am hoping will go back in their box until this time comes again and the choice is different. I feel so weird.....

The instant I pulled the cherry out of his milkshake and sucked it off the stem the nature of our interaction was sealed. Me smiling cherry still sweet in my mouth, him biting his lips staring. With my tounge I twisted the stem into a knot and handed it to him. We were silent the rest of the drive home. Jostling over thrashed pavement in an old pickup truck. Downtown LA, 'welcome to the wrong side of the tracks' he said laughing as we pulled into the parking lot behind a seemingly abandoned warehouse. A land pirate commune? He lived in what had been an industrial fabric production shop. The bathroom so far from the bedroom it was easier to skateboard across the space rather than walk. The strongest impression on my memory besides the cherry's taste was the cold. Los Angeles has a surprisingly cold winter and those old warehouses held no heat. We huddled like foxes under a blanket for quite some time before he sucked the sugar off my tongue. We felt the holes in between each other's teeth and his hand went inside my shirt through a hole in the armpit. We rolled like rocks in a tumbler smoothing our surfaces with the caress of touch of skin on skin. I slept like I hadn't in months. Blackness, and the same cozy feeling you get in a cabin napping in a plush chair by the fire. And I owed it all to that one impulse. The bite through taught skin to tender flesh and a tart sweetness that lingers in the mind like life itself

Its embers glowing into the black, heart beats higher like vision through a periscope. Its the days of my past, creeping up behind and tapping me on the shoulder and reminding me that one day my warning label will peel of and drop away. If we could transport mocking birds to different places then where there from we would be connected. Japanese would echo across the empty nights of London and maybe I could hear your voice even though its so far away. But I remember when you said:
I am attracted to you
I would scratch and sniff you
I care about your emotions
I feel you're a bit too much for me ol' fragil heart...
you are a swaying ball of emotion spun on my intuition, bouncing on my ears, and twirling in a spiral over my eyes like pink elephants in a jail cell. remember you're a sunflower, fuck them, they just don't know where you're beauty lies.

I know now where my beauty lies, In the eyes of the beholder and the beheld, In the sunlight splayed in lines across my naked chest buried in the pressure of your fingertips. The beauty in me is my eyes reflecting the oceans I love, the sunsets I've seen and the moments that make death seem welcome. Its my hurt and my pain, my loss and my gain, it me refusing to refrain from whats really real in me.

I found my sunlight. I get to be me when I wake up in the morning, does it really get any more spectacular? My vernacular sometimes does not embrace what I mean but you get the idea. Seeing it happen now makes it all the more sweet, Because really...
when it all comes down.
Everything thats happened.
Everything you
and me
and everyone we know
has done or said,
makes me love myself.

Cause its all building up to the big nothing and I don't want to love myself finally on my death bed
I want to love myself starting now.
So for now,
all I can say is

As long as the sunsets and I can see it
As long as the day starts and as me I can greet it.
Its all going to be okay.
And if you could be with me at some point along the way
Then all I can say is,
WOW