it's a bit masochistic, how i seeped back into the past, as far as i could go. there it is, i found what i both missed (and wish i could embrace), yet restrained and am now so indifferent about.
it was so bitter sweet, and it still burns, going down my throat. it's like a habit, reading it out loud. i had to hear it to really relive it, i suppose.
you were always so good with words; god only knows how you understood me so well while others were so lost in the condensation known as me. it's like fog, with sunlight trying to burn through--all these memories. if the sun can eat it up, i think my soul would be re-birthed.
i don't think i ever told you that i thought you were my soul mate. the way we fit each-other so perfectly in every way. being so oppositely in-sync is what led to our demise; it was my ideals that separated the two of us. you sought the truth, and i sought... i don't even know what i was searching for. the over-riding compulsion was to search for you, and i placed you on a pedestal neither of us could climb, and eventually we both fell. ironically enough, soul mates are said to be incapable of being one for very long, or the universe would fall to it's knees. i've accepted that blindly, and i'm sure it will remain that way.
you were so much a part of me. was i that to you? this i will never know, and i think i might be okay with it. i've let myself believe in non-existent closure for such a long time.
when you left, i wasn't merely broken, i was missing. for days, weeks, months. you had taken that vibrance with you, and i let you, willingly. it was my gift for insufficiency.
i never thought about how i may have plunged you into inebriation the last few times, how i played games unconsciously, how i broke my own heart by breaking yours.
for so long
i believed
i was the righteous
martyr
who suffered it
all for you.
the shroud removed
i realize that
we were equals
in the evil
we subjected
each other
too.
funny, isn't it? how your first love is so intense, and can either teach you to become better at loving, or teach you to recede back into the catacombs of a steel-trapped heart?
i have both.
you were the last i chronicled in such stark detail; down to the night you said those fateful words and trapped me inside of you.
at the same time, i have learned that forgiveness is boundless, if it is pure. and forgiveness is adjunct to sacrifice: you can't have one without the other, you can't give either partially, and should administer it impartially.
expectations are like ghosts; no one else can see them if they don't believe in them. you couldn't read my mind; i couldn't read your heart.
in end, i'm okay with our mutual silence. or so i thought. then i broke it.
for old time's sake.
in envy of the ancients
when legends walked
it seems i have acquired the taste
for lighting incense
to the point of a choking spire
i suppose it's in yearning
for mystic and indigenous
temples, lore, hysterics, and superstitions
my soul feels old
and i'm feeding it's need
for tradition
and frivolity;
something missing in this
modern-day
apocalyptic
shut out
of a world.
but in the end i dock
back into the safe harbor
of your arms
wasn't an armistice your desire?
my fists curled
against the cradle
of your chest
inhale
exhale
sigh
repeat
if you're my earth
i'm your moon.
i you we us
i'm tangled in these
decriptive nouns
we use
to commun(e)icate
all i really need
is to read your bones
feel your heart crack
against your ribs
your flush of heat
running down your spine
all i know is
the fit of your smile
and the grit
of my mind
it's unfair
how convoluted
we allow society
to make
us
there i go again.
i yearn for something to read that will make my eyes grateful for sight.
it seems that in my yearning i have travelled back to the classics... of course my all time favorite, Wuthering Heights, and an incredible tale of anti-climax, Chocolat; will probably pick my all-inclusive Shakespeare composition back up.
a little sad that my story i had developed roughly has been lost to the world of itsy-bitsy exiled thumbdrives. damn.
think that slow love-making will cool the embers of anger from my loss and current literature-ent
will test now...
Eventful does not begin to describe my day.
A little background FYI: have had a cold/flu something or other for the past two weeks; it comes, it goes, it teases me with the thought of being rid of it's useless drudgery, and then pops up again at the most convenient times...
That being said, I have been working from home, starting the transition at my very intense pleasure, even if my boss is not quite mentally ready to process that we will not be working in the same physical environment together any longer (you have to ask yourself, why fight something that you yourself suggested? It's one of those things he hasn't stopped partaking of quite yet...).
Due to the mental state I coerce myself into when working, it was above my knowledge that my wonderful kitten-cat was doing something I would later scream about.
I can only imagine how long it took Lylyan to pull the carcass of the pigeon from the front step, over the ledge, across the hallway, and into the threshold of my bedroom, where I discovered the dead-as-a-door
They say that when a feline shares it's prey, it is a sign of affection and bonding; however, I'm just not entirely appreciative of dead animals being strewn here and there in my home.
To continue.
I worked non-stop from 7:30 this morning until 11:00, when I decided to call my boss and let him know everything he has been asking to see and meet about was ready.
This meeting began normally enough--him passively aggressively trying to intimidate me into agreeing that everything that is going wrong is my fault. Then, for the first time ever, I outsmarted the Oxford educated bastard with reverse psychology and got what I wanted. It was brilliant, but in the end, the story in an of itself is much to boring to warrant sharing; the victory, however is something I must mention: he agreed to allow me to transition sooner to my home, since I work harder and have better results there, than inside of his empty 6000 square foot empty luxury home that gives me the heeby jeebies. Hurrah for better work terms!
And the rest of my day has been spent organizing my home office, updating spreadsheets, and creating agendas to complete my work-from-home transition.
In other grand news, Richie will complete his first full-immersed feature film project tonight and get paid this week.
Now if it would rain and remain a consistent 62 degrees maximum, my world would be complete!
Now time to put my Gordan Ramsey hat on, and make a culinary masterpeice of ginger sesame glazed salmon, thinly sliced and baked asparagus, and japanese scallops with a Pinot Grigio from Bordeaux!
MUAH!
Although many regard a job as a beacon of light in the current economy, I consider my current predicament drab at best. Not only have I sunk into a common place with almost 80% of the world: working to make money. This isn't the bad situation in and of itself. Of course everyone has to make money to live in this damnable world; the bad situation is how much I genuinely despise working alone in a luxury home built for a family of a billion.
The marble floors cause the entire building to rest at an uncomfortable 58 degrees at almost any given moment; my breath often comes out in frosty puffs, creating cloud like shapes and mocking my lonely employment-dri
Productivity dips and jumps, depending on my level of discomfort in the wooden chair I have oh so obediently ordained half-heartedly with my ass for the last several months. What is it that draws me to work for the crazies who disregard the simple philosophy that You're Business is Only as Good as Your People?
If. That is what rains through my thoughts... If only I had focused and built my freelance business (which was seriously taking off)... If only I had the drive to learn web-stuff so I could advance into another position with more creative potential and less brain sapping stress. If only I had the guts to try to quit for the 4th time (the first three times were met by tirades of absolute hysteria and reverse psychology)...
I've never been one to allow myself to sink into a hole, but currently I am being dragged into a muddy mire of a well; if it succeeds, not only will my body be engulfed in the suction of the clay walls, but the treacle will cause me to become delirious and dunk my shrinking head into the water and drown myself voluntarily.
At least then I would choose that fate. Ah fate... you mock me so with "gifts" I wish to leave in that well, buried in poison liquid and algae infused runny dirt. Let us not forget, that with great power comes great burden. Responsibility is merely a perception of other's expectations; will you bend co-dependently or live your life?
Living life. When your existence is a shell that refuses to allow you to experience that around you, how do you break that monotony? Adrenaline junky--I'm jones-ing for a near death experience by choice. Let's dive head first into an that lake that imitates a surface of black ink and hides so many unknown dangers... Pick up a hitch hiker and hear his/her story... Drink enough wine to fill a skein for every liberal in America, and then hike in Superstition Mountains, bloated with courage you didn't have before.
And I'm just dying to get out of this tomb I've built around myself. Why am I never content?
What is security? Is it the reassurance that bills are being paid and you can come home to an established home you built piece by piece, the couch you picked out together, the wall hangings that you so carefully doled over; the bed that's molded to two bodies and a dog, that you sleep in EVERY night...
Let me wander and be content. This malevolence to most other societal norms is taking over my impulses... Little does anyone realize how very threatening I am beneath the surface; about to burst out of my skin like a fireworks display of organs and blood...
"Love is a temporary madness. It erupts like an earthquake and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have become so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness
Class today.... I actually already knew what was going on... AMAZING. I hate aftereffects, not because it isn't cool, but because I am aftereffects retarded in a general sense....
I was kind of scared that after the break the film club would have really gotten a lot of stuff ready for their demo reels and I would have been left behind. Turns out that they didn't do anything this last quarter... but then I started to think about it. Why do I care? No one is going to "leave me in the dust" because I am not limiting myself to endless creative-gag rules or mindless team members that don't give a shit about things...
But then again, I've always had the downfall of caring to much anyways.
TOODLES
Moste Comprehensive Hygiene Survey
HANDS
Do you wash them after the potty? (be honest)
Hells yeah, to the elbows!
Bar soap, liquid soap, or hand sanitizer?
Liquid soap followed by Hand Sanitizer
Nails: long or short?
Short.
Professionally done, or self-maintaine
Self Maintained, no one elses germs are going to infect me!
File, emery board, or pocket knife?
Emery board
Nail brush?
you know it
Do you bite or chew your nails?
yuck no
Hand lotion?
yes.
FACE
Wash in the morning?
Yep. Thoroughly
Wash in the eveing?
Yep even more thoroughly
Soap or special cleansers?
Special Cleansers
Acne?
Hardly
Makeup?
Just Enough
If you're a man that wears makeup, may we ask why?
Well I am not a man, so I'm not sure...
Wash behind the ears?
You know it.. there is nasty wax back there!
Any nighttime masks, or creams?
Sometimes, but not that often. I am young still.
TEETH
Do you brush daily?
Twice Daily.
Do you floss daily?
I try to remember, but for the most part its all day long at intervals because I am paranoid of things being in my teeth
Your toothpaste?
Is minty. But soon will be cinnamony
Electric toothbrush, or regular?
Regular. I am scared I'm going to be electricuted.
Mouthwash?
Minty but again, soon will be cinnamony
Whitening strips?
No. Trays. Every two weeks
Do you grind your teeth?
NOOOO
Do you pick your teeth?
Huh?
HAIR
Shampoo?
Every three days
Conditioner?
Every two days
Blow dry, or towel dry?
depends
Wash it every day?
nnnnnoooo or my hair will fall out
Long, short, or bald?
long
Permed?
no
Can you braid it yourself?
yes
Can you French braid?
yes lol what has this got to do with hygeine
Bangs?
sort of, there starting to get long...
Hairspray or gel?
neither if I can help it
Change styles often?
ehhhhhhhhh
BODY
Bath or shower?
shower
Every day?
usually
Soap or body wash?
both! one to clean one to soften and smell pretty
Washcloth, puff, or hands?
puff and hands
Back brush?
what? No.
Foot scrubber?
yes
Favorite soap brands?
olay, as of right now. Otherwise whatever organic stuff I get at Trader Joes
Do you shave in the shower/bath or separately?
In the shower usually
Shave cream, soap, or dry shave?
Soap
Your brand (of shave cream)?
If I had a choice? Caress
Your razor preference?
Anything that won't cut me up
Do you like bubbles, bath oils, etc?
bath oils feel and smell good long after the bath has dissapeared
AND AFTERWARDS...
Roll-on, solid, or spray deoderants?
solid
Your brand?
Ummm I don't know right now lol
Aftershaves, perfumes, colognes, body sprays, etc..?
Perfumes- Pure Rose Oil or a combo of Sandalwood and Patchouli oils
At what age did mom and dad stop giving or supervising your baths?
Five or so. I was a smart and healthy kid
MAINTENANCE
Have you had all your shots?
A long time ago... I'm kinda old now lol
Do you do flu shots every year?
HELL NO. I hate shots. And you should allow your immune system to do it's thang
Do you get yearly physicals?
I try.
Do you get gender specific exams on a regular basis?
HAHAHA like once to four times a month
Cancer screenings?
not recently.
Eye doctor?
every year, as I grow more and more blind
Dentist?
hell yes! twice to four times a year
How do you feel?
Pretty good, almost that special time....
mmmmmmmmmm sex.
Who doesn't love it? It is definitely one of my current addictions. Four times sometimes five times a day. On the couch, at school going up the side stairs, at the movies, in bed, in the jacuzzi.... Anytime. Any kind. Except anal. Because that is just wrong and disgusting.
mmmmmmmmmmm wine.
Who doesn't love it? The adamant fans of bud light who refuse to believe that there are better forms of poison in this world. Everyday to get to sleep, every night to stay up. To celebrate, to morn. And as long as you have tits, no one needs to id you, apparently. So anywhere I want...
sex+wine= heaven. Complete nirvana.
We kiss and turn and sweat and moan and then it's silent for a split second. I look into his eyes, sigh, and collapse. Usually our fingers laced, lips brushing, heavy breathing, backs dipping. And then the waves are rolling over me, senses enhanced. The slightest touch and I am over the edge.
Break. He holds me like the most fragile thing in the world. And for a moment I am. He sips wine and turns to share it with me, opening those lips so I can breath in his essence and the musty dew. All blankets are gone, for it is like the Sahara. The only thing keeping us from dehydration is each other.
Punch Drunk Love.
I drift off into bliss for what seems moments, then return to the lapsing kisses down my neck and over my shoulders. He likes my freckles and I like that he likes them. He nips down on my collar bone and I am murmuring his name.
And again we are in rhythm....
So maybe it isn't sex that I am addicted to. Maybe it's the absolute closeness between us. Maybe it's the warm silence after. Maybe it's the warm feeling going down my legs as the wine spreads in tandem with me. Maybe it's the way he whispers my name, the way he loves the littlest things about my body, the way he caresses then owns me.
And I will submit to him...
Taxes.
I don't get it. And I wouldn't have cared if I had been punch love drunk on pinot noir and good afternoon sex, but I wasn't. I was sitting at my parents giant house that's empty and void. See, I had over two thousand dollars withheld in federal and state taxes, but somehow I still owe the state money.
I hate money right now. It's tearing me apart. I work for money which dissapears straight back to that moron of a president.
God I wish I had some wine.
And here I sit, looking at student loans for this next year and a half. We need to get a better computer for homework and work, and could seriously use a more functional car than what we have right now.
GAHHHHHHHHHHHH
"Look at what they have done Michael. Look at what the homosexuals have done to my party. They're just so dramatic. OOOOOOOOOOOOh they just make me want to... SET MYSELF ON FIRE!!!!!" -Lucille Bluth, Arrested Development
ahahahaha and that is the reason I live... Arrested Development.
Yes I have lost my mind, and maybe I'm okay with it for now. I am running off of coffee, wine, and more coffee. An occasional poptart or two, and more coffee to counteract the wine.
And that is the life of this collegiate scholar.
Now I think I shall vent by painting and listening to incoherent screaming while dancing naked around my apartment.
Time to go home and find out what the boyfriend would like to do following my ritualistic cleanse of the toxins....
I can think of a few things =O ^_o
Mad doesn't even describe me right now. Vehemont, spewing, scheming. That is more like it. Is there an emotion to describe that? Oh yeah, LIVID.
I get to work, and I begin as always. I'm a productive and work-a-holic type if person, and I think I exhibit that in all areas of my life, especially work.
Check the email: 52 messages. Matt has signed me up for something without asking or telling me first.. okay.. twenty appointments, of which 10 will actually come.. administration was down while I was gone.
Look through my calls, add to the spreadsheet. Go get my fifth glass of coffee within the last three hours.. We only have decaf. Well that's a bloody outrage.
"Whenever you're done with making you coffee, we need to see you in my office please."
There sits Chris Politica. Shit. That means one of two things. Either he's there to promote me, or write me up in a formal meeting.
I sit down in front of Matt, Chris and the Chris P., and look at his desk. There is a formal write up. I am outraged. Number one--no verbal warnings. Number two--Matt is wearing this smug little grin. Then it hits me. I know what he is doing...
Late 8 times between December and January. Messed up on 3 titles that cost the business $600. No sense of focus, unpredictable productivity from day to day. BULLSHIT.
Tardiness? Okay I can own up to that. My fists are clenched and I unconsciously pop all of my knuckles. The Chris P asks if I have anything to say feedback wise? Do I have anything to say? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA
As for the title work.. No formal training, constant pressure to rush through my deals to impress the customer with speediness. Lack of focus? I don't even have a job description. Unpredictable productivity from day to day? Um, unpredictable work load from day to day.
Then I point out real candidly that I have been offered 2 interships at production companies doing what I love, but in the name of goddamn loyalty I decided to say no. With this I pinpoint that I am not a bad worker, and obviously I am not appreciated, and I can definetly go elsewhere where even if I'm not appreciatted atleast I'll have a job description and predictable work load. I am a hot item on the market.
Chris P looks me dead in the eye. The Chris P. He is a God with DT employees. He looks me dead in the eye and says "You're cute when your mad. Thank you for the feedback. You are right on most points, but I still need to give you the written warning, and you still need to sign it."
He's fucking BALDING. I want to rip the little patch of hair combed over his shiny little round emptiness, and shove it down his throat. I'm cute eh? You ain't seen nothin yet sweetheart.
Matt is still grinning his pompous goofy ass chipmunk smile. The smug, I'm smarter than you smile. Little does he know that while he underestimates me, I will make him regret being an ass, and instead of firing me outright and not making me go through the agony of public failure, dragging it out in slow progress so he can find someone to fill my ever enlarging responsibiliti
"Christina, we just want you to show 100% effort EVERYDAY of your job. I know you are capable of it. I wish you had a passion for this job. Can you commit to putting forward a 100% effort for the next couple of months? For me?" That sly bastard.
I decide to play dumb. I nod, sign the paper, and The Chris P leaves. Then just as I am getting ready to leave Matt's office, and he chuckles, I turn around and with the most wide eyed innocence I could muster, I returned his non-polite grin. "I wouldn't ever do anything for you Matt. It's always for me. Just remember that."
Then I walk out. Sit down, answer the phone, transfer to the correct person, and resume updating my spreadsheet. It's time to find another job, and I've never been happier.
Should I make my finale a spectacle or leave quietly? Because I was thinking that on my last day I come piss drunk and vomit on Matt's shoes.
Poison of choice? Pinot Noir of course.
The warmth is spreading in my bones. Sometimes I am just absolutely stupid. I didn't think about how my shots, ibuprofen, and 4 glasses of high alcoholic level wine might disagree... But my head was begging to come off. The worst that will happen is an upset stomach and a long sleep---can't complain about that.
I love the warm feeling of tiredness that is dispersing throughout my muscles. God I'm a cheap drunk, but who gives a damn right now anyways?
Valentines day pisses me off. Because of hallmark, I have this ridiculous notion in my head that on the day of a bloody massacre in an attempt to control marriages, I should expect roses and candy. Well I didn't get either, so boo you whore.
I actually told him not to get me a thing. Because Valentines day is fake. It doesn't celebrate anything but multiple deaths that didn't lead to any kind of immediate remedy to a horrible situation. [It's the thought that counts, right? HA!]
Water water water flowing down my throat, and spouting out of a hole in my lip down my chin and through my cleavage. Holy shit it's cold! I've been thinking about getting surface bars down my cleavage in a pattern. It would look sick and oh how I love the sting of a fresh needle under my skin. I love how artistic piercing really is. I can design it to look however I want, provided that I think about proportion, balance, and aesthetics.
BLAH BLAH BLAH.
I should go to sleep, but my ears are stinging all the way down the back of my neck... My hair is getting to long. I'm not extremely happy about it at the moment. But he likes it, and I can't complain if it means more compliments.
Gah I miss him right now. And there he is snoring in bed. I think I shall join him and loose this terrible feeling of lonliness. Good night and happy Thousands Were Killed in the Name of Freedom of Marriage Day.
What We Are
Back to this again
A circular path
and not a Labyrinth
The truth is in the past-
I want the mystery
the unexpected
You love the chase
that you created
And I could blame and want and die
And you could watch with shame and lie
Yeah
You lie and lay and hold your breath
I stop to say, yet I'm held back
Typical oh typical
This is what we are
Stable and predictable
This is what we aren't
This is a reflection
I've seen it before
Sucking the life that you can
and begging for more
Oh darling you can't be
Just that oh just that
Once my inspiration now the source of every spat
And I could blink and bend and sigh
And you could yell and make me cry
(easy easy easy now)
You're on the brink and you need your fix
I won't breath a word, I have no patience
Typical oh typical
This is what we are
Stable and predictable
This is what we aren't
You're on the brink and you need your fix
Fill your veigns, your so vain
Waste of time waste of space
Sacrifice was your shot at the love that you want
But you'd rather inject because you're a coward.
I should be doing homework and the clock is ticking at me... Midterms this week. What is this? My fourth or fifth quarter? Possibly sixth? I don't know. I've lost track of so much. Life is full of hardships and joy and I can't stop thinking about how our choices shape our destiny. But you can't write a character biography on your epiphanies, and I have to wake up earlier to go work out.
The syringes lay in my fringe. Insulin and a chemical for pain relaxation. I get killing migraines if I don't exercise my stress off. I do more than anyone I know... full time work, full time school, a pioneering production company, a successful photography company, and various student work I volunteer to help with. I get migraines because I don't sleep, and there is more coffee running through me than blood. That is one of the many significant changes I have gone through--enabl
Why live in the past, hold on to pain, make yourself suffer? Why abstain from success? I'm watching it in every vibrant person I know. They know that only themselves can change their destiny. They know that the longer they hold on to this deluge of bitterness, the longer they stump their own growth. And people can't stick around other people who don't grow. Flowers don't bend to the grass, or they snap and sink lower in the soil than where they chose to bend.
....back to homework. I am writing a character biography. No I'm not... I'm writing this...
He's sleeping. God I love the peace on his face. This is the man who I am going to marry. This is the only man who has treated me right, this is the only man who doesn't feel the need to interpret himself through me, this is the only man I have been with, this is the only man who lets me be as I am and accepts that I have many pieces of me, this is the man I truly love. I should be doing homework so that I can crawl into bed and rest against his skin, and soak up the easy stroll of his breath...that requires a syringe....
Today was a long shoot. I worked with some amazing people. Started at 2:30 and didn't end until 6. We made good time. It rained softly. I wanted to go out and let the absence of sun tingle my senses... but alas, midterms take priority over sprinkling drops of joy, if only slightly.
The aromatherapy is kicking in. No, maybe it's the three glasses of wine I've poured down my throat. God it scalds. I slept for the first time in ages last night, and I slept good. But now I want to dance, and laugh, and rise.
I went to a clairvoyant once. She told me that my inner self is a phoenix, but I live among the iciest of castles. I asked her if that means I was frozen and bound to die. She said that it means I'm meant to melt everything around me into life. I thought it was beautiful. I stepped outside to the cracked and sand filled sidewalk of beach-side boardwalk, and by chance stepped in the only piece of gum that could adhere in such conditions as those. This made me forget about the beautiful words that came out of this gypsy woman's mouth, and I didn't think about it until just now.
We shall see if I melt everything around me, or if I succumb to be frozen as I have seen most do lately. Maybe I'm here to help those that need it. But I doubt it. I believe that any great leap in society comes from those who are selfish and set out to accomplish their own goals by means of their passion and talent. No one can be the same, and altruism is wrongly described. Altruism (to quote Ayn Rand) truly is the selfish man accomplishing for himself. For when we tap into what we are good at, what we see as right, with passion and vigor, we move mountains and change the world.
Goodnight, I am going to go make a hero out of typographical rhythm and substantiated white sheets of paper.
Dear World
I have not written in here for almost two years now
So I thought I would let you know how life is... It is fantastic!!
I have just finished up my first quarter at the Art Institute of Phoenix, getting ready to move out, and have this fantastic boyfriend (who doesn't like elftown...refe
Christmas was killer, my birthday is coming up, and I just sold half of my portfolio for about five grand to small company. (I'll have my new and way more impressive art up soon)..
Anyways, God has been faithful, and I just wanted to thank him and say hi to everyone!
<3
dead
We were whispering on the phone again, as we tend to do when we are tired. His voice was low and soothing, making me feel safe. Our words were mingled with breathing and throaty yawns, the symphony of a conversation on air waves.
["No... Sing to me."] why must he be so convincing...
"Ose Shalom, bihmromav, ho ye ase, Shalom, ale neu..." My voice was cracking and the Hebrew sputtered as the high notes mixed with trying to keep it quiet.
["That is the first time anyone has ever sang to me."] he sounded so content.
"Really?" I was amazed.
["Yeah... I am constantly... singing for other people and playing guitar... but no one sings for me."] Almost sad explanation as his voice ran like the wind through a willow's branches.
"I'll sing for you." I smiled. We listened to the silence, each other's breathing, something...
["Hey you.."] he said it childishly. it was a game we played.
"What?"
["Hey..."]
"What?"
["Hey..."] it was getting a little annoying, but still sorta funny.
"What?" I said it slightly louder and exasperated.
["Nothing."] he sounded resigned but smirkish.
"Maybe I should let you go, you sound tired...." I said it much moer quietly, not really wanting to go.
["No, I'm okay..."] another sort of game we played. Silence, gently washing into our souls. Sometimes I think we are to comfortable with silence..
["Christina..."] he whispered it normally. No more games, but still gentle. My heart skipped a beat almost.
"Yes, what?" I said it gutterally, trying to keep quiet and from choking on my throat.
["I think I am falling in love with you."] He said it so gently, so comfortably, so affectionately
"Yeah? I know I'm in love with you..." I was so happy, glowing, screaming in my head,
Please no dreams now, no more, this is too wonderful.
I was giddy. "Andrew, are you waiting for me?" I asked it even more quietly.
["I'm waiting for God..."] he was so confident of it.
"I like that answer." I started laughing, and I stood up in my bed, twirling. I started slowly... "Andrew Carrillo, I love you like the day is long. I love you more than the moon and the sun together." I started to march back in forth on my bed, getting faster and louder... "If you feel the same way then we should not keep our feelings a secret...." He started laughing at my silliness, and I became adament.. "Love is a gift that we should shout out to the heavens. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!.. and if you make me cry like they did in the movie, I have many people who will tear you to pieces."
Resounding on the air waves he laughed, and my heart soared..
penguins and platapooses (is that how you spell it?) are the wierdest animals alive.. so are snails, but I own those things, so the mystery is exploited.. yes, my snail is named billybobjoebob
The most beautiful movie, and the best movie I have seen for a long time is "The Village." Jesse turned me onto it (thankyou babya). It has beautiful music, beautiful (if not haunting) scenery, beautiful acting, and a beautiful script...
So for my b-day (it was yesterday officially at 1:00am) I would love to recieve that movie. It is gorgeous.