I Want To, I Want You

I want to taste you. All the sadness and the pain.

I want to lick all of which that remained.

I want my tongue to learn, lead then memorise the way.

I want to devour your presence. All thoughts, regrets and shame.

I want to strip the social mask and disguise we were raised to make.

I want to see you bare to a point where fear finally languishes then steers away.

I want to collect the chunks of you. You gave to those who didn't stay.

I want to hold them close; save to where mine remain.

I want to fill the cracks of me with every bit of you.

I want to contain every ounce of existence that makes you.

I want to talk with you; unfolding, revealing and outpouring my whole to you.

I want to hear the heartbeats pulsating when I'm with and without you.

I want to learn your rambles and banter, and all the confused words you sew.

I want to learn all the meanings to the poems, pieces and words you wrote.

I want your stories to be heard, more than many and multiple times.

I want to hold your hands; interlocking fingers, in a perfect lock that defies time.

I want you as you are.

I want you as you come to be.

I want the heaviness of your embrace.

I want the memories; both good and bad to make.

I want the sickness and mistakes. 

I want your heart as my lighthouse.

I want your shoulder to cry on.

I want to bend to the way you say my name.

I want to protect your aura and guard it with all the strength it takes.

I want the words you speak to always fulfil all of which I seek.

I want to reach my full potential, with you next to me.

I want the longing and craving for you to always excite me.

I want to take all my time to know and understand you.

I want the wait to be worth it for the fire I'm heating for you.

I want your thoughts in words to penetrate their way to the very core of me.

I want you when you're ugly and hidden.

I want to read you differently from how they all see you.

I want to share my peaceful moments away from the world, with you.

I want my solitude to include you.

I want my sense to make love to where yours is.

I want my body to be a pool, only you're allowed in.

I want you to read me like a conversation.

I want your little things to always be noted.

I want the heaven in me, to hold you in always.

I want the big picture, painted with the many colours of you.

I want my soul to recognise the real you.

I want my understanding of you to meet your understanding of me.

I want to be one where everything fell, and felt effortlessly.

I want the doubt and second-guessing to be removed entirely.

I want the road of honesty, to always lead you to me.

I want you with all the faults and mutations.

I want you my inspiration.

My silence is loud. My silence is written.

My words are for you. No longer missing. 

Oh the irony (Until next time)

"Your writings are very confessional

 I can almost taste your words

And what a bittersweet 

taste that is" 

"Nah, I'm just a ho 

with too much time in her hand"

2013 can suck it. I have been looking for meanings everywhere these past couple of days, yet somehow, ended up suffocating myself with the usual 'what if this was that instead of how it is now?' does that even make sense? My brain tends to function in its own way, I have managed to read three books simultaneously; without actually finishing any, but I have acquired new information in a faster rate than I would've had if I was being a goody two shoes square with one at a time (apply sexually charged something here, for all the perverts) Hey, I'm just getting started... 

Have you ever googled something, only for the sake of googling it, yet somehow found yourself in page no. 9 of the search pages? (let's face it, if you go passed the first page, then you're desperate) I did that the other day (other day could mean any day; used here to imply a sense of suspense, also my memory tend to suck sometimes) anyway, I found myself googling 'How to be happy?' with the question mark included to imply that it was a rather series question and not a rhetorical one (which BTW I happen to love!) So yeah, back to my point (if there was any in the first place) Google gave me a list of steps to follow, a bunch of pictures of plain faces and fake smiles and I sat there wondering; Well, is this it? 

It was. As much as it pains me to say (I really don't like that phrase, pain is always private, keep it that way!) Google didn't help me, the way it did with all those late-night assignments and essays I used to write in the last minute (it's never good to do that, you shouldn't do that. Hi, kids!) I sat there wondering, well if Google couldn't help then it must be a helpless case, aye? 

It wasn't. As I sat there, deleting the search history (Get your mind out of the gutter... wait was it just me? OMG) I realised there was an easy solution, that I was to think of, if I wasn't so damn "21st century girl" the easy solution; the simplest one in that was to; Let it be. 

I totally hijacked The Beatles just there, but its all good. I'm all about that Beatlemania! (I gets it) 

I have realised what my problem is; I think too much about things that don't require too much thinking. So what? Dylan wrote that song in ten minutes, and it makes no sense whatsoever, yet it has so much depth to it, man! just listen to it. So what? her face is as white as her shirt but her hands a different shade. So what? my friend's a feminist who I sometimes hate (really dislike. 'hate' is a strong emotion) So what? Life gives you lemon even though you're allergic. So what? I don't make sense and this post was entirely a waste of time and blog space. So what? I seriously considered getting a 'rapping' name. So what? I never read Animal Farm till this day (I find it somewhat condescending) So what? I'm all about that rhyming game. So what. 

Oh the irony. 

It's been a long day, I have deprived myself from sleep (only because I'm cool and busy; busy being cool) and also, whenever I leave my brain unsupervised, it usually tend to run in circles like that. Oh I wanna watch The Shining. Bye.

2013 is almost over bitches. (please let's refrain from using that word... actually, you know what? So what, go ahead, be my guest) 

In the end: Did I happen to make a point with this? Yay? Nay? If I didn't...

So what.


-- Oddly enough I never even say so what in real life; I always thought it to be an annoying phrase... Oh the irony. 

Cowards

-"Don't lie to me, I don't like being lied to
Anything you do; go right ahead and do it
Just don't lie to me the way you did with them"

-"With who?"

-"The men in your life"

-"There are none"

-"Thats a lie"

-"You don't believe me?"

-"No"

-"Then why do you talk to me?"

-"I seek something"

-"What?"

-"I don't know what it is"

-"What do you want from me?"

-"Lies, I want more of your lies"

-"I thought you said no more?"

-"I lied"

-"Why?"

-"I don't know"

-"Are you okay?"

-"Don't do that"

-"Do what?"

-"Pretend to care"

-"But I do care"

-"Don't"

-"Why?"

-"I don't want you to"

-"What do you want from me?"

-"Hurt"

-"I can't do that"

-"Yes you can"

-"I stopped"

-"Why?"

-"I prefer lies"

-"Why?"

-"I don't know"

-"What do you want from me?"

-"Connection"

-"What else?"

-"Conversation"

-"What else?"

-"Commitment"

-"What else?"

-"Thats enough for me"

-"Nothing is enough for you"

-"Why do you hate me?"

-"I wish I can"

-"Why?"

-"To have you constantly on my mind"

-"You've changed"

-"I am the same"

-"You're not to me"

-"I was never anything to you"

-"That's a lie"

-"I don't lie"

-"I don't know you"

-"True"

-"Why?"

-"You want the wrong things"

-"What things?"

-"Me"

-"Thats only one thing"

-"And what comes after"

-"What will?"

-"I don't know"

-"Do you know anything?"

-"I know everything"

-"Do you know me?"

-"I stopped"

-"Why?"

-"You're a liar"

-"I'm protective"

-"Doesn't matter"

-"Yes it does"

-"People don't change"

-"True"

-"I've tried"

-"I did too"

-"Well then goodbye"

-"Goodbye to you too" 

pieces

"She is so naked and singular.
Climb her like a monument.
Step after step." - Sexton

The Old Man & The Journal

You've turned your life into poetry because you're unhappy. You miss an old sentimental beat and you wonder why there is no ease, an old man once said to me, I told him; writers don't lie, they simply twist a truth, that no longer serves them in the way they hoped it'll always do. And what is your truth? he asked of me, I shook my head when I realised I had no answer to give.

Like a memory that fades away, that is how I feel of existence today, maybe tomorrow will be a different day, but for now, there is no escaping this heartache. I met an old man in the park today, I was sitting near him on a bench opposite a small river, both feeding the pigeons in; he resembled my father in his appearances; or so I thought at first, to much later, I realised it was only my selfish need to have him to keep, because my own wasn't anywhere in sight when it came to a need I had.

I was carrying a black journal that I had placed by my side, he must have noticed it to which he asked; "Are you a writer of some kind?" "A sentimental diary of my past events and overall life" I replied, "Do you mind reading me a few? Is that alright?" I hesitated at first, then nodded my head, and opened the journal to reveal whats inside:

" 'I am floating, floating in unconsciousness; I don't know why, happiness is so close I can grasp it with my own desperate hands, but twice before it had lied... Twice before, my dear God! I am tired of this restless clinging to all the hopelessness I can't seem to find the courage to fight. A million souls trapped inside, where is my personality hiding at?' "

I raised my head to look at him, he was looking at the ground; I was concerned, was I revealing too much of my state of mind? "Please continue my dear child" he spoke with a pleasant tone that made me relax, I skipped a few pages and opened a random one to start, reading in a brittle rhyme:

" 'I miss my old friend, he passed away last night, took his own life without leaving a note behind. How bizarre of me to be stating facts; like I'm reading the news to just another suicide. Do I even remember him, or the way he used to laugh? I can't even remember what he looks like. People come and go; they're all passing by, One day I'll disappear without a trace to find.' "

The old man was looking at me this time, his lips formed a hard line, to which calmed when he said: "Would you mind reading for me a last time? A recent one, if you don't mind" I skipped a number of pages, and the air skipped a few, a random page appeared and I proceeded to read it through:

" 'I love the man in my dreams, the one in my head that won't ever leave. I love the man in my mind, the one who says the kindest words and makes no demands. I love the man in my heart, I'm in love with the darkness he provides.' "

The old man was smiling this time, and I was smiling too, I closed the journal and then he said:"Your vision finally came true, you can now see me the way I see you" I understood him without having to say another word, for my mind finally believed the lie my heart formed. I've turned my life into poetry and I've grown old to those; stories of love lost and the man I adored the most, he passed away without leaving me a note, but I found my solitude in these poems I wrote.

I am the old man and the journal I wrote is the last remaining piece of a life I no longer know.

Lick My College Degree, First

A little intellect never hurt nobody, try and be somebody. I believe that a woman's choice to do/be whatever it is she wants is entirely up to her, I totally support that. I'm not a feminist, nor will I ever claim to be one (I have said that before and yes I do think its worth repeating) I believe in free will, and personal preferences, a woman has the power of reason; within herself, to find a solid -affirmative- answer to why she's doing what she's doing. Here's the thing, I am writing this post out of frustration, for the state of which -some- feminists think they can go, where they have the audacity to compare pop culture figures (and I use the term figures very loosely here) to role models, I am going to get mad, not only that but I might as well bust a cab up your ass! I'm done with that bullshit. Can I live?

**An introductory** 

I have never had a role model, I mean yes; there are women that I feel are outstanding in what they do, and my life had been shaped with powerful women; from my mother (A.K.A the go-getter) to my aunt (A.K.A the beatnik) to my other aunt (A.K.A shit just got real) and last but -certainly- not least my favourite one -may she rest in peace- my aunt the peacemaker (A.K.A the flower child) so with that being said, I think I know a little about my personality's strengths and where it lies, and also I think I know how my individuality came to be what it is today. 

My aunt once gave me a simple advice, that made a lot of difference to the way I handled things; she said: Never allow a man to pay for your dinner if you can pay for it yourself, there's nothing worse -for a woman- to be in this world than a gold-digger, If you have the money to pay for yourself, then never hesitate. Can you guess which aunt said that? From that moment on, I viewed my independence in a completely new way, it really does surprise me -till this day- how few words can carry with them such change. 

**Anyway, lets get back to my source of frustration, enough family rumination**

When I think of pop culture figures, I immediately think: vaginas and hairdos, that's all there is to it, nowadays, isn't it? I haven't lived in the time where John Lennon and Yoko were the equivalent to what Twerking is right now (I should take a step back for I can't believe I just said that) obviously times are changing, and be it the year 2013, where originality; though it might exists, it is rather difficult to find, everything that these female singers are doing -nowadays- is nothing other than the lively-format of 'copy and paste' from someone else. As boring as that is, that is not why I'm frustrated, no, I am frustrated because feminists (that think they can speak for the entire population of women) are holding these singers up on a pedestal, and are over-analysing whatever nonsense coming out of these singers end, I mean, really? are you kidding me? how can you take any of that shit seriously? Basically what I see here, is nothing more  than the war of airheads; one side has no brains whatsoever and the other side has little but no common sense, for they choose to debate with the no-brains side. UGH! LEAVE! 

**Say no to airheads** 

Women are beautiful. There is no denying that, I have actually had an infatuation with nude photography for some time now, there's something so raw and real (can I talk hipster like?) in the bare body of a woman, so confident in displaying it with no signs of shame or embarrassment because of stretch marks or the many other things women tend to complain about. A woman's body is her choice, to do with it as she pleases. That's it. I hate it when the simple act of expressing one's artistry, turns into an ugly acquisition for someone else, to do/say what they want with it, like when feminists poke their noses into such thing as nude photography, stamp their feet and snap their fingers, with a 'no, no, no' because in their opinion, such photography is the grand glorification of women's objectification that they have been fighting against for some time, I wonder if they look at themselves in the mirror, naked, admiring a tan they recently acquired or a toned figure that was the result of recent trips to the gym, and think: oh shit, was I objectifying myself just then?! A woman doesn't simply reduce herself to a mere object by posing nude. Get that through your heads, feminists! 

**Brains then Beauty** 

I value my intelligence deeply, I love to learn all that is I need to learn, about my interests, all of which that shapes me and my way of thinking. A woman that relies solely on her looks will be a beautiful addition to the silent museum of beautiful beings, and then what? without a character there's really nothing sufficient to hold the weight of that beauty; no matter how unreal it is. The problem with this generation (can I talk grandma like?) is they never had to sacrifice anything for the benefit of something else; this fortune allowed us the gift of indulging in things, that perhaps our parents never had the time for; things like, all the social media networks that circulate the daily and day-to-day interactions, young women are more concerned with picking the right profile picture (out of the many duck-lipped selfies that were taken) and then what? post the picture and feel beautiful? Uh... ok. 

Here's how I see it, theres nothing wrong with making beauty your calling card, (I can feel the feminist heat) but honestly that card will get overused then tortured, and in no time, there's nothing exciting in the silent museum of beautiful beings, you feel me? And that is why, I urge my young cousins and any young female I encounter, I always urge them to learn more about what they're passionate about, what it is they're good at, to excel more, find your interests wherever it may be. beauty can only take you so far. 

A woman's body is her choice; if she wants to pose nude, if she wants to sell it, if she wants to set it on fire. It is her choice. Unless a woman is presenting herself as a mere object and nothing else, then that's a different story, other than that, being objectified is really not her fault, but the fault of the male gaze that was trained to view it that way. When a man offers you nothing but compliments and shallow words, learn that this man only sees/cares about the external you, until/unless he learns about the inner you, the internal being, your thoughts, and all that is that shapes your mental state, then know that, he's one of the few good ones. Cause brains triumphs beauty, every damn time. 

**A final word** 

Hey, "so called" feminists, goeth fucketh thyself! 

Bucket Of Wonder

If you want to love me, then here's your chance, when the world is swallowed in its endless, restless noise outside, you'll find me with a bucket of wonder waiting for you inside, filled with the magic of the first night we held hands, the conversation that last and last, the way your eyes tend to shine when it sees me smile, the way my hand fit perfectly like a harmony when you held it tight.

I'm here with the warm smile you gave to me, I'm here with the decision to be, I'm here away from the haunts of yesterday, I'm here opened to the possibilities of everyday, I'm here where I found my place next to you, I'm here where I belong with you, I'm here in every way you can imagine, even in my dreams I find you there standing.

As sweet as honey is to my skin, as alive as the sunrise in a long field trip, as wide as the open road that calls me in, as corny as these words I tend to give. You feel like home away from all that is familiar, you feel like nostalgia; pure, unadulterated nostalgia, clothed then soaked in the innocence of a child's heart, you feel like the full white moon that lights up the dark sky, you feel like the stars that carries the heavy wishes of all the broken hearts, you feel like chocolate; liquid as your name drips from my tongue, you feel like an old friend's long awaited hug, you feel like wonderful in its most simple, yet elegant way; you are the indie film mesmerising in every way.

You feel like my favourite books and songs combined in one, you feel like the words spoken when all the encouragement is done, you feel like the reason I came to be one, you feel like happiness when its shared by everyone, you feel like my selfish need to have you to keep, you feel like the compromises I believe.

You are the understanding that calms me through the hectic nights, you are the only company I crave during the lonely nights, you are the lively disposition to my summer days, you are the smile I wear and keep wearing everyday, you are the family I finally came to have, you are the missing piece to my now wholesome lullaby.

With you I found myself to be the woman I always knew I could be, and my bucket of wonder is placed by the side to remind me; how beautiful life is now that you have found me. 

Inhibitive

"You don't know me" she stood up demanding
The vague affection of the last man standing
Little miss understood got him asking
What is that ugly truth she's hiding
She's a mystery, but he's tired of trying
Chasing dead ends and her protectant lying
If she summons me; his thoughts were clouding
To break her walls and the barriers of confining
Will I be present? his thoughts were racing, finding
The line of communication that is always distracting
Wear back your passion, and come out of hiding
This griming despair isn't satisfying
"You don't know me" she kept on demanding
I seek an understanding, behind all that talking and grinding
Inhibitive in her way, there is no landing or crashing
Alone by nature, and there's no point in knowing
She spilled her secrets to someone who wasn't even looking 

Coffee Talks & Solitary Walks

Tell me something nice

I believe it takes a great loss to change a person's perspective about life, I also believe in the kindness of strangers; but thats neither here nor there, I believe in the good in people, even though I know I always get to see it in a time when its too late, but nonetheless I always feel grateful to have found it. I believe that words always come short when there's no action involved. But I also believe that sometimes words can be so powerful in a time when its needed most. I want to be an open book this time; this here isn't an update, its a part of who I am.

I have never witnessed what great love is like; I know I always tend to run from talking about that probably its because I have been around couples to see what loving is like, and I have been around these same couples to see what losing it is really like. People always talk about luck when it comes to love, and if you think about it, it actually makes sense, only those lucky ones find their missing pieces in another person, what it must be like to love and be loved back, without any hesitations or denying of what is felt inside? A hopeless romantic only for the sake of denying its existence but finding myself looking for it wherever I am at. I don't believe in luck, does that goes without saying that I don't believe in love either? Except I do, I do believe in love and I know its an easy come and go for some, and it isn't like so for others. Its clinging on false hope, because I know my fears are always too powerful to overcome, I fear losing myself in the process of opening up because I don't know what's to come after I'm done.

I only see the good in people; with my own naive -looking- eyes, I choose to only see whats good. There's great in everyone you meet, some just hide or overlook it for their own reasons it seems. I often say I feel sad when I come into contact with certain people, because they're not affecting me as I would like them to be. I have learned to surround myself with false companions because they won't add nor extract anything to my life, it is a waste of energy and effort I suppose because I put in nor invest in neither of those, but its also because I know, there's no hurt to come from interacting with them. Some people are easy to get to know, and others are not; these walls that shut people out are the same walls that protect me from them. I say I feel sad because I hardly ever find those that make me think twice, and so when I do, I find that I could get used to having them around, which isn't as great as it sounds, because people come into your life and walk out of it all the time.

Letting go of the past is what I need to work on most, shaking what has been weighing me down all these years, and figuring out how to be okay with whats inside. I believe that things happen for a reason, and they also happen in due time, destiny isn't necessarily always kind but there's beauty in understanding why it is or isn't sometimes. I've been told I'm cold numerous times, and I guess I might come off as an asshole once or twice, but I'm learning to slowly work on that. Most introverts rely on their shell when they communicate with someone for the first time, which is why I believe first impressions are always blind. I learned only recently, that kindness is easy to grant, helping others in times when they need a helping hand, I also learned that to settle for less is a crime against yourself, If I'll be here are only words you're going to utter through the noise, then never bother with saying them at all.

Its the first day of December, the birthdate of a special family member; but thats neither here nor there. Its also the first day of the last month of the year, where resolutions are starting to form, and changing ways becomes more clear. I have started this post with I believe in this and that, and it only serves it well to end it on the same note of facts: I believe that I'm starting to see things differently, I believe that I'm becoming more aware of my strengths and even difficulties, I believe that going after what I want will make me happy, I believe in the magical power of coffee, I believe in persistence and patience is what I need to work on, I believe Leonard Cohen's voice is a road of clam, I believe that people always have more to offer, I believe in making mistakes and learning from them to find the right way, I believe in the person I want to be, and I believe in the joy life has to offer me.