When I write a poem

When I write a poem
I’m expressing my core.
Listening and confronting
what I can no longer ignore.

I’m touching my heaven.
I’m holding a dime.
Letting my silence
come away for a time.

Putting paid to a chapter,
I’m on a new page.
I’m expressing, undressing,
giving voice to my rage.

I’m trembling my fury.
I’m pacing my doubt.
I’m stressing, confessing.
I’m figuring it out.

When I write a poem
it isn’t for your reading,
it’s to finally express
all it is that I’m bleeding.

I may touch a cord.
I might connect a dot.
I might pull a thread closer,
to a unrecognized thought.

But, please understand me,
though, I am quite glad to be seen,
it’s not really about you.
If you know what I mean.

Busy Bee

I’ve had a busy day. I went to Menard’s and bought potting soil, 2 floor mats, coat hooks, picture frames and a brand new pot for Ping to stretch out his roots.

I walked home, so you can imagine how much fun it was lugging a 10 pound bag of soil all the way home, but I finally made it.

I repotted Don Prickles, Ping, and Miss Kitty. It made a small mess, but I was mostly prepared for it. Have I mentioned how glad I am for my vacuum purchase?

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After I spritzed my babies with a lil fertilizer (Miracle Grow) I turned my sights onto my art wall. I got my Child-like Empress back in place of honor and added my Lea Barozzi art (4 pieces) to the wall. I also hung my Norwegian Fox Folk Art piece, and my Australian animals lithos from Kazza.

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I was tentative about the size of the Disney prints and I’m glad I didn’t buy frames for them yet, they are bigger than I anticipated. I’ll need to do them another day.

I finished off by hanging up 2 silver coat hooks for my coats.

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Pretty pleased with myself.

Now, I’m about to tuck in on a nice chicken and vegetable salad with a glass of coke.

I’m having a fantastic day off!

My stomach is tired of my shit

I tried to eat a pop-tart for brekkie, and my stomach crossed his arms (metaphorically speaking) and refused to eat it. Apparently he’s tired of my shit. I’ve been eating on the run all week. Soo, here’s what HE insisted I eat. Gotta admit, it does look tastier than the pop-tart.

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Note** I wondered why I wrote metaphorically instead of hypothetically and looked it up..Damn! My brain be working without me..am I the only one this happens to?

I am only here for the food and, like, 3 people.

The Slowly app has me on a slow burn. I like the 3 really cool friends I’ve made..the problem is the 11 other people who wrote me.

Those people (I have other words for them, but let’s be polite) made me rather uncomfortable and mildly repulsed. See, there seem to only be 4 types of people on Slowly.

Type #1 The Smarmy guy. It’s 98.9% of the time a guy (by the way) who immediately (within 2 letters) asks you to write them elsewhere because Slowly is..slow. Uh-huh. I see. Slowly goes slow but you want to go fast…anyone else see red flags popping up? Yeah, me too. I generally answer my correspondence on Sundays. Often by the time we get to Sunday 90% of these “letters” have an alert saying the person has been red flagged and I may remove them if I want, which duh! I do.

Type #2 The “I need to talk to someone but NOT about them” type. The “I want to write an endless letter filled with me, me, me and oh! Yeah..me”. These letters are lacking in any questions, queries, or commentary in keeping with a conversation with another living person.

Now, I’m not talking about those lovely Pen pals who get caught up telling you funny stories or sharing bits about themselves, those convos are pure gold!

No, I’m taking about those letters whereby you wonder if the “You” part of the letter is even necessary. They seem to be having a conversation with themselves but the letter somehow came to you.  I had one guy write me a very long, long, long, letter that didn’t even have spaces or paragraphs..just one looooonnnnggg block of writing in which he shared every single thing he’d done that day…in detail. And that was the very 1st letter. Not even an introduction..just one long conversation that felt like I picked up the phone whilst someone else was on the line having a dramatic conversation. I know some people are socially awkward but, let’s be real..even a complete spaz knows how to ask a person basic conversational details. Like, oh I dunno..Do you like music, books, movies….talking? Jus sayin. They should, at the very least, want to know a teensy bit about you..even if it’s just what you like to do for fun. After all, if they don’t want to know about someone else why not just write in a journal?

Type #3 The “Hey, can you send me nudes, money, or begin a relationship with me based on a single letter?” Type. I have had 2 like this and just ewwww! These I delete right away. I mean..it’s an avatar people!! You can’t tell me you are actually interested in a real person judging by a cartoonish art drawing ok!! Mostly these are sick pervs just looking for random hook-ups, gullible women, or someone dumb enough to send them nudes or money. (Sometimes all of the above) Yeah” I’ll Pass. Oh, and the only difference between #1 type and #3 types is that #1 type disguises their intentions and “pretends” to be normal for the 1st 2 letters.

Type #4 and the reason I still have the app, if I’m honest. The really fun to talk to people. The ones who make you laugh and want to write back cause they are such interesting people. I have met like 3. All 3 are totally worth the other 11..sigh* Can’t we just make it so only type #4 write me?

Sigh***

 

Concept art for Hamilton

My friend, M.M.Clendon, drew a concept art version of Hamilton for me.  We both agree that he looks too much like a bear, and we will be addressing that, but just look at him!!! Hamilton is alive! I am soo stoked people!

If my book gets published, I am totally using M.M’s art for the book. It’s exactly the pen & ink style I’m looking for.

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Update*** It’s him! It’s him!!! OMG! It’s totally him!!

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Copy/Edit

Ok. It’s real now and I’m sweating a bit over it. My good friend TauBeta is copy/editing my book for me. He’s an author himself and knows what works and what doesn’t. His opinion matters because he’s also one of my Slowly Pen-pals.

What if it’s horrible and he has to break it to me gently? What if he thinks my writing errors are 2nd grade level?

:::bites nails::: My baby is being examined for errors.

Everybody panic!!!!!

I’ll be ok.

I’ll be ok.

I’ll be…..where is the ice cream in this joint?

The really hopeful bit, is that if he thinks it’s good and the errors fixable, I might actually be submitting my book to possible publishers.

Ok…not helping the stress levels by thinking about that just yet.

I’m gonna go stress clean.

 

Conversations and closure

My ex M and I had a long conversation over the phone. It’s strange the things you open up about after all is said and settled. It’s like we know each other well enough to tell the truth without any extra bullshit anymore. (See what I mean about July and this weird thing that happens?)

He’s drawing again and that’s a good sign. He stopped painting for many years. The fact he’s doing it again says a lot for his happiness. I’m glad, truly glad. Our friendship survived our break-up and that’s kinda neat. It’s been long enough that I doesn’t hurt to discuss the whole thing honestly. I think I made another step toward completeness today.

He sent me his version of my recent photo as a joke. I told him I’m cuter than that and to do better. 😎

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I am not interested in being messed about by anyone anymore. I’d rather be alone than get my heart stomped again.

That’s where I’m at.

B

Can’t even

Every year, at this time, something weird happens in the universe and everyone on the planet discovers (or rediscovers) that I exist at the same time.

I’m totally serious. I get odd pick-up emails, DM’s and texts from random strangers.

I hear from people I haven’t seen for years and years. (I don’t mind it..just can’t really understand the sudden influx of concern)

People suddenly start worrying about me and checking up on me. (Yeah, yeah, I love you too you weirdos!)

I start getting hit on by men I have 0 intention of writing back on Instagram. (Thanks for the uber uncomfortable acknowledgment of my facial structure being appealing to you, but I don’t actually care that you care about my looks enough to fire off that thoughtfully compiled text that you slaved over for all of 2 seconds. You can go back to scratching in weird places now!)

What the heck is it about me that brings this about every single month of July??? It’s weird and annoying. I mention this only because it happens every year and the pattern of it all just kinda wigs me out.

I just want to sew, drink tea, and be a sloth per usual. No, I don’t want to leave my apartment and hang with people. No, I don’t need to be freed from my lonely Introvert lifestyle. No, I don’t want a man to “help me find happiness ” Happiness, for me, is sewing, drinking tea and being a sloth per usual. In case you wondered. (Oh! Look! I found my happiness all on my own!!)

My days off are ACTUALLY my only time all week long that I get to spend an entire day not pleasing ANYONE but myself. I am extremely HAPPY dude!

Special note***Only TMW5T can bug me..hims sexy ass is always welcome no matter what day/month/minute it is. (Mostly cause he would just sit quietly reading a book, eat ice cream with me, and not bug me besides, he’s actually that rare male who has his own shit to do and doesn’t mind that you have your own shit to do that doesn’t involve him.)