temporary id

We look for pieces of identification

It saves us the trouble of reaching deep into our pockets

Running our hands over lint and wrappers of peppermints

Long discarded

Our hands, ripped skin, removing them from jeans that have grown too tight

From overeating or growing age or all of the above

Never fear the fear of growing complacent

It’s just a temporary fix

While we readjust our awareness to the magic of what’s truly important

Focused, tired and busted from the day, still coming out on top

No one can tell us any different

No gen x motherfucker, as much of a friend they are, can instill a single insecurity 

In you

This is what we are

We don’t need anything more than the simple we embrace

Slowly and surely, breathing calmly when times get tough

We’re unstoppable because we decided to have a choice

And make it ours alone

happy & single looking at relationships

My life is in a pretty happy place currently. I think having a relationship would be nice to have eventually, but I don’t feel like the lack thereof is the path to a miserable life. Loneliness, sexual needs, and general boredom come and go, but these are casual feelings I now understand do not impact my overall happiness. It has me thinking more clearly though about my outlook on relationships, both the negative and positive. I’m a confusing person sometimes. My trust is constantly skating on thin ice. One moment can make me feel completely at home with a person, then another moment can make me feel lost and totally uncomfortable. I make people feel safe and willing to open up, but I also get tired and need to escape when I don’t feel reciprocation. Worst of all, I’m total shit at communicating my needs. Best of all, I’m loyal to a fault…if I know you’re there for me in the way I need it.  

I have a couple of friends with whom I feel 100% myself. The two of them know who they are. I’m not sure if this connection is built on their level of human compassion or us having things in common, but I know when I speak and act I’m being heard and appreciated. There is no second guessing it. I struggle to find this in relationships. That need is what I’ve always kept a sharp eye out for but have never seen. I question my patience, but I always try to respect the first impression I get when people react to certain things. A part of me is content with accepting this aspect about myself. People easily exhaust me, and it only gets exacerbated when I feel like you’re not getting me. 

So yeah I’m a total pain in the ass. I give someone all this benefit of the doubt and then disappear because I have some underlying code I didn’t let them in on. I recently dated someone who taught me the value of being myself and doing what I want – and if that doesn’t line up with who they are and what they want to do, then we can amicably part ways. I don’t need to take things to a level of resentment because I don’t feel an equal share of give and take. As short of an endeavor as it was, it was probably one of the more important relationships I’ve had for that lesson alone. 

So as for my attitude going forward, I’ll strive to not be afraid of communicating. But I won’t compromise that feeling I need to be comfortable. And if I’m not comfortable, I won’t try to fit a square peg in a round hole.

a good conversationalist

Standards rise in a realistic way for once. Perhaps I’m a ticking time bomb waiting to detonate once I discover the fragility of romantic thought. Whatever the case, most people disinterest me. They don’t know how to talk, often bogged down in themselves. To have an inner source of power and truth, but act only outwardly is so attractive. No one can run this drill 100% of the time, but imagine crossing someone with it at least as their default. Asking questions out of real curiosity and not fear of appearing disinterested. Then hitting the jackpot realizing you actually have values and interests in common. Follow it all up with an appreciation for the moment and not trying to dig your claws in to preserve it forever. Shooing away inevitable feelings of loss. To understand that life is a path people will sometimes walk with you and not always at the same time. Feeling your hope die is unpleasant, but to be grateful for having any hope at all is next level. The rare great conversationalist – calm, collected, beautiful with confidence, considerate, and in the rare intimate occasion: compatible. They’re ones hard to let go. But life will stay just as sweet when you encounter such rareness again.

an everyday account of toxic masculinity

Some dudes.  It’s not that a person may be wrong about something, but some dudes have to be definitively right about said things. Especially when it comes to women. I find it tiresome to be approached with “general consensus” information about the opposite gender. These men are bred out of insecurity, guided to see women only as potential partners and never only as friends. Using their current relationship or marriage as an “only if I were single” barrier because no universe exists where an available version of that man wouldn’t be trying to plow that woman. It’s not allowed because other borderline mental men told them that was the rules.

I had a a man tell me he never had friends who were girls, ever. This same man said he’d never marry or date an “impure” girl – a.k.a. a girl that would (at minimum) suck his dick on the first date (FYI his wife has only been with him. Good kitchen wench). Sometimes it’s that unapologetic – a woman reduced to a role hopefully she’s good at. But truth be told, this man’s wife could exactly the same person, not want to date, sleep with, or no less marry him, and he’d see her as completely different – one he’d view with disfavor.

It is easier to be a man in this world. A personal law of mine is to not have any expectations of others, male or female. That’s an easy law to apply when I feel zero expectations weighing on me from others like women do. It’s something men take for granted because we alone may not hold any expectations of a particular woman, but we can never experience the everyday pressure they feel approaching from all angles. To think if I decided to not shave for one month (currently true)and people actually judged and thought lesser of me for it. But replace my beard with makeup and my gender with female and that’s exactly what you get.

I guess I shouldn’t be shocked by how short-sighted some men are to separate the genders at a species level. You can look to traditionalism as much as you want, but to deny yourself the choice to act on your own accord is disturbing. A lot of men feel an entitlement to their freedom, yet they beg for a script to follow. It’s as if their lives aren’t their own.

I have a responsibility going forward to protect those people when I can from being subjected to such shitty derivative behavior. I understand that now, but I also need to stay conscientious to avoid the waste of breath and time being around it.

a cosmic discipline on the snare

the laws of the galaxy never take a day off

every waking moment is spent beating away the old to make room for the unspectacular new

in a time of unquestionable doubt and existentialism tearing away at the fabrics of our well being

the cosmos stay firm in place within their mystery

never will understanding come from the rhythm as our bones wither under the weight of ‘why?’

no matter how meaningless you make yourself in an attempt to latch onto a piece of self-deprecating importance

we unwillingly always remain in time

presence

No question whether or not the quiet blends hard into the wall. Silence and charisma have never been an ideal pair or most would assume.

There is a desire to know if the broadcast presence of ourselves is clear.

It’s a push and rush like no other.

Sometimes the important decision to make is to jump into the cold water. Let the nerves come alive in the most unpleasant of ways.

Reassuring everyone you’re here isn’t guaranteed, but at least you’ll know you’re alive and well.

one lucid industrial lullaby

samples unrelated find each other side by side

i never thought this stream of lucidity could keep them all together at once

the clink and clank with each weak current

so sensitive, so jarring and tight for space

as they unwillingly push themselves around for domination

the dreams and lullabies move in quickly to corral

taming this moment, finding a way to make it work

and appreciation is founded by this unexpected cohesion and focus to unfold so graciously and with such forceful peace

no other explanation comes forth other than the belief that anything can mix

given enough tweak and loving attention

you can make anything always meant to be

 

working on yourself

Working on yourself is hard and feels unnecessary when a bit of temporary reprieve or comfort comes your way. 

It’s hard to stay disciplined and focused, especially when things seem to suddenly turn back in your favor.

You can ride the high, but truth be told, you’ll find yourself crashing harder than before when you start to come down from the trip.

Suddenly you’re back at square one, as though you haven’t learned anything. Then you spiral further into believing you’re hopeless to finding the change in yourself you wanted to find. 

Trusting the process is a lonely and frightening experience. There’s no sugarcoating it. You will unknowingly use every worst fear you have against you. Protecting yourself and restoring what you’ve established as normal will always be the main priority for these fears, unless of course you break them.

Breaking fear is a matter of accepting it. Ride out the fear. Not running from it. Let the sickness run its course.

There are no epiphanies or trumpets that blare when you finally do break them and start to feel that your best self is the majority of yourself. But quiet moments do occur when you realize how happy you are for no explainable reason. This is your new normal. Never take it for granted. 

That’s when you know you’ve caught on to this whole idea of working on yourself. There aren’t any mind games and you no longer need validation from others.

There’s just you and it’s enough.

i know what i want

Why do I have to know what’s good for me? Inexplicably I’m still drawn and the fool in me wants to live beyond the balance of my upbringing long enough to have a story or two to know on my death bed: I fucked up and I knew I was doing it.

I keep saying it.

I just want a chance to let it all burn down.

Australia is on fire. And so many good people live there. The car crash is unavoidable, I want to believe it.

I know what I want.

I want to use your mind, hear it, touch it, and love it.

I know what I don’t want.

I don’t want to watch you pile expectations on yourself.

Not that I’m asking you not to, I’m just saying what’s more unattractive than hearing someone romantically recite their pain?

Fuck this hurts! Say that, once, it’s more fitting. In the moment. No bigger picture. It hurts. Right now. End of story. Other potential moments for happiness is passing us by.

Be your pain, don’t think it, don’t speak it. What reward is there to let others saturate it?

I want her. Ritalin says otherwise. Time says otherwise. Unfortunate circumstances keep adding up. The trouble is…you’re on the road.

Constantly moving while I occupy the monitors make it easier for you. But I’m lonely and I want your intimacy. I won’t get mad anymore. My head is too small to get lost in it over matters other than me. Second guessing is a fucked exercise. I swear to god I’m going to commit to its elimination.

Familiar territory, commitment out of fear.

To a place where I love to be, but sex is devoid where my cock wants to be. She fights not because she cares but because she never decided to. And here I am, thinking about what I can’t forget, fighting what I want to need, loosely holding on to the beautifully bold, and all the while trying to fuck enough to will the word “commitment” out of existence.

One fucks like no other creature in the galaxy.

One holds out with unlimited conviction.

There’s no debate. I want to do what I want.

women will drive thru glass

here lies a monument

of concrete flower displays

so when the inevitable happens

ladies i’m looking at you

you’ll have something pretty to look at

while your husbands put you in your place

in a phone call that’ll only last 2 minutes

despite his fury

the football game is on

and you know where priorities lie

so keep dreaming of the carpet

that’ll soon flow through your home

but as hard as you try

he’ll never remember to remove his shoes

as he tracks mud across

the unforgivable and unchangeable nature

of how you’ll always remain

exactly as you are