The conversation itself is poetry

The conversation itself is poetry
Waxing eloquent our new car smell relationship
I’m happy and ranting
I want to punch you in the face
For making me feel things
For making me feel feelings
Fuck you.

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We Both Lost

It’s over.

This isn’t three strikes and you’re out. Nine innings have been played and the game is now over.

I’m sure there were some beautiful plays and home runs. But I mostly remember the errors, fouls, and ugly strikeouts. We both greased the ball. We both got in each other’s faces.

I don’t remember what the score was. I just remember that at the end of the 9th inning, I didn’t want to play anymore and neither did you. So we turned away from each other and walked away.

The game is over, and whether or not you understand it, we both lost.

Can we just stop…

Can we just stop

  • being a reactive society and start being a proactive one?

Can we just stop

  • having to lower the bar so people can feel better about doing nothing and start raising it so people can work hard towards something?

Can we just stop

  • having to teach women how to protect themselves during an assault and start teaching our boys that having emotions is ok and that they don’t need to assault women to reclaim their ‘masculinity’?

Can we just stop

  • asking women if they said no and start asking men if she said yes?

Can we just stop

  • saying “No means no” and start saying “only yes means yes and everything else means no”?

Can we just stop

  • having to tell women what they can do after being raped and start telling our boys and men not to rape?

Can we just stop

  • asking women what they what they were wearing when they were raped and start telling our boys and men not to rape?

Can we just stop

Can we just stop

  • thinking the world owes us everything and start thinking about what we owe the world?

Can we just stop

  • having to demand basic human decency and respect from everyone and start freely giving basic human decency and respect to everyone?

*I know men as well as women can be victims and that women as well as men can be violators. I used the pronouns I did only for the sake of clarity.*

*Stupid disclaimer that I don’t think should be made but is needed because some people forget: This is my blog and these are my thoughts.*

I am a single malt scotch

I am a single malt scotch, exquisite in flavor and meant to be appreciated.

Aged 42 years, I’ve matured, becoming more flavorful.

Serve me neat or on the rocks, I will not disappoint your sophisticated palate.

Grab me, pour, and taste. Sip and savor. Feel me on your tongue as my flavours open up.

Earthy and smoky. Perfection.

I am a rare find and you are lucky to have me.

 

Diamond

“In its rough state, a diamond is fairly unremarkable in appearance. The act of polishing a diamond and creating flat facets in symmetrical arrangement brings out the diamond’s hidden beauty in dramatic fashion.”

I am a diamond in the rough and I’m working on carving myself into a brilliant piece of the hardest material on earth. Diamonds are tough and beautiful, but they can break and even shatter if chiseled in the wrong spot or carelessly smashed with a hammer. So one must have a steady hand and observant eye to realize the potential of such a gem.

I don’t have that. I just have me.

I have a shaky hand and I’m not an expert on diamonds. I am, however, an expert on me and try as you might to tell me who I am, you can’t. So it is I who is carving myself out of rock. I’m scared as I raise my shaky hands to work because I know I can fuck it up.

I HAVE fucked it up and I’ve cried as I looked at those pieces of myself laying on the floor. Those pieces I still wanted but no longer have. I’ll never be able to glue them back on so I can only look back to the rest of me still on the table. I know I should be ok with it all but it still hurts like a motherfucker so let me mourn those losses.

I’ll keep working through the tears.

Because when I carve through this rock and get it right and when I have cut off the ugly pieces, I discover new and brilliant facets of myself. I am proud and happy, and I shine.

Sometimes when I do fail, I feel like I disappoint you but my promise never was to be perfect. It was to always keep trying. I promise I’m still trying. So please stick around because although I’m doing this for me and will continue doing this without you, it is so much easier to take those risks when I have you here with me.

The Ins and Outs of My Life

I’ve been trying to cut the yo-yo string but I must be connected to you with a diamond filament tether.

Throw me away and then yank me back. Again. Again. Again.

It would drive anyone mad. It did to me.

You’ve been in and out of my life so often lately, I feel like your presence is fucking my soul. Filling that empty space you leave behind over and over.

Even when you’re not physically fucking me, you’re still fucking me.


Let me lace up my boots…

Im’ma slay some giants