Boarding in 5.

I think it is the gentle way the stewardess wiped the top of each freshly opened can with a napkin, that made me pause. The hot towels before each snack and meal, even for economy class. I've never received such thoughtful customer service. An 8 hr plane ride to Haneda/ Toyko, Japan and a stroll through the airport has left me impressed- I must come back here. There is something surreal about this environment that feels magical- and when I over hear Caucasian people speaking in Japanese...the fluidity of the words off their tongue takes my breath away. Udon soup for 650 Yen. This browser in Japanese characters. The mod appeal of the vending machines, stocked with 5 kinds of chilled tea. The royal beauty of the people. I must know more.

6 more hours and I'll touch down in Thailand....my new home. I feel strangely at ease, despite the weight of those words. I can't pin down the exact source of this feeling...although I have several theories. I can't help but believe that the reason for my calm holds an undercurrent of heading in a long sought direction, that of exploration. A direction of dreamed of for so long.

"2010
Oh that big bad world. With all its chemistry and sites, o passion and envy. And here I stand like a firm little oak tree in a vast forest forcing my branches to the Sun. Sun shine on me. And I stretch and wait. Try not to get distracted by the glow of the beetles exploring my length, or shiver when a man comes by to look me once over- to see if I’m worth slaying. But I desire to play, I want to have legs, not roots. I see all the animals in the forest roam, I see what they bring back, and the glint in their eye like they’ve been transformed. But I’ve only changed from fall to spring to summer to winter and back- the excitement has become dull. I want to know what it looks like above the tree tops, I want to feel the wind without all the rest of the forest crowding in. I want to sprout feet and roam continent after continent! Broaden my horizons on the east the west the north the south! Callous my toes twist my tongue to new sounds etch an epic story into my spine! I want to sit quietly and watch, experiencing the world in motion, then get up and play along. I want to be transformed! Don’t get me wrong, standing here, very stilly, has made me stronger, taught me that all nourishment is offered from the Sun. Sun rays have endowed me with a new skin, given me vibrant life beyond my power. But yet here I‘m rooted, standing like a triumphant piece in a garden, and I can’t help but look around and notice that the landscape has become quite dry. For months now, I find myself watching the gravity of the ground, the wind rocking my turning leaves, dreaming by day, scheming by night. All the while, praying for a sizable hurricane-what a sure liftoff it would bring!  "

Everyone is beginning to line up. Boarding time.

I wrote into google search today, "Signs you should just travel already."

Lonely, too.

They want to fuck me, they want to bend me over and fuck me.

They want me on my knees in the dark,

splayed legged in the passenger seat of a car,

bouncing to the beat while I'm riding their D.


They want my Soft skin and curves-no less then second base.

Prefer to Take it straight over to their place- with the whiskey.

Get lost in the moment,

Forget the jibba jabba...they want to get fuckin' frisky.

　

They Say I'm pretty, “a dime”

so they put their arm around me, they hold out hands to brush me

give me bed room eyes with long stares, tell me they're lonely.

They're in need of a good woman's body.


8 pm, 10 pm, 2 am Service calls they would make for my pussy.

They'll be my benefits, my in and out drive through, my

hard fuck, my soft fuck, my long fuck.

　

Realistically: my mediocre fuck, my this went too far fuck,

my feelings not involved fuck. My boy not yet a man fuck.


So when my right hand cramps, I don't reach for the phone.

I pause an imagine, a man who gives a fuck.

About not only how I like it,

but where my favorite place is.

Who not only takes his time,

but tells me he needs me,

couldn't imagine life without me.

Looks me in the eyes, while he rides me.

Whispers in my ear “Let's make a baby.”


Who's sexy: not only because of his body,

but because he promised he'd build a house for me,

because he wants to travel the world with me,

and brings spirit through living philosophy.

　

Stop: Fantasy. Inconceivable in this sea of:

compliments, look me up and down stares, late night invitations to meet somewhere.

I make space in my bed, sleep on the edge,

as if I'm subconsciously waiting.

For some one worth the while.



I toss and turn in my own ideology.

Failure

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLg46AVDD_Q


Failure and I are only acquaintances. I'm aware of his attributes, I recognize him when he is far the down the street....when I can just barely see him on the horizon. I find my most speedy exit from the place I stood to avoid bumping into him...or every truly getting to know him. I am a "dabbler", never plunging in nor trying because of fear of failure. I haven't always been this way. I remember the girl who walked 5 miles to go to bellydancing class then practiced in the dark without looking at the clock. Who stayed up late into morning working on a writing project. In my jadedness, I have stopped trying. Thank you Cass Phillips for helping me to realize that my fear of failure is blocking me from digging into passions.

Carpe Diem

At most turns in my life I've kept my decision process to myself. Changing plans has always been a *hush* *hush* gig, the sort I prefer to sweep under the carpet. Many times I make a big ol' action plan, guns blazing, grin set...I've prepared myself for the ride. When the car breaks down, the seatbelt won't work, or the car engine won't turn over...I unexpectantly abandon my trip itinerary. Why should I be ashamed of this?

The last month has been well, interesting. The first two weeks on the job at my new job I was getting a handle on what my responsibilities were. Last week I was done with training and flying solo. By Thursday I called my mom to tell her that I wasn't a good fit for the job. I want to be a good fit. I want my plan to work. But then again I don't....I feel that something is missing from my work life that has always been missing: creativity. My new job allows me to make my own schedule and come and go from the office as I please but there isn't enough work to do to fill a 40 hr work week. Sometimes days end up ridiculously long and other times hard to fill. I work alone and as someone who thrives on the dynamic that human interaction creates...I kind of hate it. I have to admit that last weekend I spent most of the weekend shuffling around in a state of depression. I told my friend that the path to acceptance (of my new job) would involve depression. Oh the stages of grief. This week things landslided a bit more for me...after work I felt called to the bed to sleep. Eating my emotions and old vice, reared its ugly head.

At this crossroads, I can't help but remember that I've felt this way a lot. Even to the point of me beginning to believe I must have a cyclic "get really excited" and then "burn out fast" way about me. Yet when I ask myself what I really want, I know this isn't it. I'm at the period of my life which is about adventure, self exploration, and finding what fits me. I've worked in the social services field on and off for years and the field is truly draining. I've felt that I need to work in the field because I have the gift of listening, being patient, and empathy. Yet the side of effects of working in the field just aren't healthy and I feel unsatisfied at a core level. I ask myself...shouldn't I be happy? Don't you want to help people? But in all reality, I think I enjoy people but don't belong counseling them.

I want to take a risk. I want to explore what I'm passionate about. I believe that if I follow my interests I can find a field of work that I feel inspired by. That ignites me. I think I can find satisfaction in work. This means that I must plunge into a place I've never gone before...creative work...and follow the idea till I know if it is what I want or not. I refuse to settle. I refuse to accept. I have one life and with a quarter century of it gone, I refuse to be to scared to do anything. Welp here I go. . .

April Blue.

It's been a while, since I poured heart on page.

I'm nestled in a cavern knees up pressing. Thinking, reliving memories.
I circle the island with its multiple climates, A/C blasting, FM radio singing
Pressing. Altitude. Pressing.



I called your name. My mouth forming a familiar shape, syallables bounced out.
You came. Several times. Leaving unwrapped condoms each time.
For next time.

Touching me with finger tips
dripping tounge flicks as the fan circled.
Infinity rang.

Our voices held tones
only memory knew
like trying on old clothes
roles
with no promises

words fell between motion
dissolved in breath
and fell flat into silence

Convo 101
a tight string, plucking cords
as the fan circled.

We circled.
Our intentions fading in and out,
your face, told me something I already knew.
Hoping for you to say it, but you never do.

So with words with motion,
I drop out,
Like I do.

You, Baby, you.

How do you communicate a cackle through text?
WAhahahhaaahahh..giggle..giggle..
I'm enlarging, this thing inside me,
is about to take flight,
building and brewing
in sleep filled nights,
I'm becoming.
And have become.
This entity, with a smile
that I respect
cherish
and I want to play with.
This woman. 25.
with hips, and curves
who pulls 95lbs squats 135 (I took myself by surprise),
that smirks, with the philosophy
that life's a running joke.
Baby this is an Ode to you,
natural curls,
loud voice,
and swimmers arms,
with the bravery to stand in a front of a crowd
with the quiet and keen to listen
and the curiosity/wonderment to learn.
Heart pure, eyes open.
May all love surround you.
May passion fuel you.
Let dreams be objectives,
and possibilities be endless.

Your a rarity, flourishing.