And then we are going to dance.


And dance we did.


Today I…

excogito, Uncategorized

Today I :

(1) went shopping then started having store rage when someone’s kid would not stop crying and yelling and just put back what I was thinking about getting and left. Then I felt like a big fat cow because none of the boots I tried on looked good.
(2) attempted to take a late evening nap only to be awakened by the smell of someone cooking out and then visions of smores danced in my head. Must. Have. Smores.
(3) got really pissed off when I discovered that the sales associate at Macy’s left the ink thing on my brand new sporty Calvin Klein red fleece jacket and I couldn’t wear it as planned.
(4) hung out with some wonderful friends and got to be care-free for a bit.
(5) came home to my Sir Barkley discovering (earlier today) that he can get on the dining room table and knock stuff off. He apparently decided to continue knocking stuff off that I already picked up.
(6) and finally, broke ass, jacked up, crooked hip in all, crawled into bed, nice and snuggly… only to be wide awake staring at the ceiling.

Murphy’s Law I suppose.

They Can’t Handle The Truth!


The truth of the matter is they don’t want to “know” the truth because they can’t handle the truth.

I love honesty. I used to find it easy to push all the limits of manipulation.  I was not proud of it, but I found it easier than just being honest.  Not because I am or was a deceitful person, but because I didn’t want to let someone down. I didn’t want to anger them, or hurt them…so I found it easier to just create, not just my own, but their reality too.

And that reality manipulated itself right to a place where it became a game to see how twisted I could make a situation’s reality.  It came from a deep resentment. To the core of my being.  The resentful anger felt like leeches all over my body, sucking the life right fucking out of me.  I was this person I no longer knew.  I was me physically, but I became a walking destructive force of emotional bondage. I could be whoever the person I was with, didn’t matter the relationship, wanted me to be. I was miserable and I was in a really dark place.  I used all the anger, bitterness, jealousy, resentment to do what I had to do make them feel the pain that I have felt.  And I was ruthless.

I got angrier and angrier.  Why should I let that person and this person have that much control over me??  I was product of every delusionally dysfunctional personal relationship that I became a part of.  I was fucked up.  For sure.  And I didn’t care.  I relished in my humbling humanity.  I punished myself, I tortured myself, I hated myself, or so I THOUGHT that I did, until one day I finally felt unshackled from my own delusions because I forgave myself.

I told THE truth from that moment forward.  I did and will be brutally honest.  I don’t care if it upsets you, or her, or them. I find it amusable that less people can handle the honest truth and I actually enjoy being honest because they don’t really believe you anyways…

I saw a savior, a savior come my way
I thought I’d see it in the cold light of day
But now I realize that I’m only for me
If only I could see, return myself to me
And recognize the poison in my heart
There is no other place, no one else I face
The remedy will agree with how I feel
Here in my reflecting, what more can I say
For I am guilty for the voice that I obey
Too scared to sacrifice a choice chosen for me
If only I could see, return myself to me
And recognize the poison in my heart
There is no other place, no one else I face
The remedy to agree with how I feel


The Flea

MARK but this flea, and mark in this,
How little that which thou deniest me is ;
It suck’d me first, and now sucks thee, 
And in this flea our two bloods mingled be.
Thou know’st that this cannot be said
A sin, nor shame, nor loss of maidenhead ;
Yet this enjoys before it woo,
And pamper’d swells with one blood made of two ;
And this, alas ! is more than we would do.

O stay, three lives in one flea spare,
Where we almost, yea, more than married are.
This flea is you and I, and this
Our marriage bed, and marriage temple is.
Though parents grudge, and you, we’re met,
And cloister’d in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me,
Let not to that self-murder added be,
And sacrilege, three sins in killing three.

Cruel and sudden, hast thou since
Purpled thy nail in blood of innocence?
Wherein could this flea guilty be,
Except in that drop which it suck’d from thee?
Yet thou triumph’st, and say’st that thou
Find’st not thyself nor me the weaker now.
‘Tis true ; then learn how false fears be ;
Just so much honour, when thou yield’st to me,
Will waste, as this flea’s death took life from thee.