Get off my chest (Bullshit Please Don’t Read)

Since I’ve turned 25 there has been a girl of the month. A tinder girl I visited in a Eastern Washington town in August, a girl I knew from college who sends me random nudes in September, a girl from my hometown I spent a whole evening with in October, a chubby gal who left during November, a fuck buddy reconnect in December, a Co-Ed in January. Part of coping with losing a 3 year Relationship (I wanted it over, she wanted it over, but it was still a big change) probably. Some of them have been friends with benefits. That was fun usually. Not always. Sometimes meaningless sex is just that. Some I’ve been really excited about. Those have been more interesting, since I’ve consistently found a way to make it not happen. Not self sabotage style, but via actual revealing of myself. Once through drinking, once after a month and a half of texting and even a actual date. The last one was the girl of January. It’s a fresh wound. I’m still hurt, and confused, and conflicted by the fact of that pain since it was good before.

This model is what I missed in college, during the span of that three year relationship. It’s undeniably harder to live this way now. Post early twenties. Post long term relationship. All the other elements of my life scream complete in some capacity, I’ve found adulthood. It’s boring and better all at once, but my relationship status fails to have grown up with the rest of me. I don’t really know what to do about that. Like, how do you find someone compatible, with the right amount of common and different? How do you even make friends at this age? How do you turn your crippling anxieties and depressions into anything that someone else is willing to help you deal with? Where do you find the fucking girl that also grew up with Jurassic Park and the Matthew Broderick Godzilla movie and she’s also the same amount of hot as you? What if the answer is you don’t?

To the girls of the month, thank you for everything. To the girl who is everything, where are you? To the notion of true love, why did you go corporate? To myelf, you need to be happy with yourself more than anything. Also to myself, I fucking love myself, so redact that last sentence. Also to myself, you’re selfish. And once more, to myself, don’t give up.

Help Me Name This Poem!

Howdy folks. Quick look into my writing process offered up here. I always write my pieces without titles (or vice versa and create titles without poems) and then try to find a title that sums up the work at the end. This one eludes me. Like, I have no fucking clue what to call it. So, I offer this untitled work to you, and give anyone who reads this the opportunity to give it a name. Until I get your help it will remain nameless and unloved, and it’s my baby. Help me name my wee little baby, wouldn’t you? kthanxbai…

 

Untitled

Garbed in militant wools

and all this black,

rakish smile hidden away

in a back pocket next to a wallet

that’s mostly just symbolic,

we head for that millennial dive bar

hoping the nosebleed seats

lack their usual sweat stains

and sorrowful middle age women

that are so fond of Springsteen,

but hey, they give me free shots

of well whiskey, which serves as a whetstone

for my blade of wit, which

exists to vanquish every friend who approaches

and wants to comment on my physical appearances

like I did it for them, folks

honest enough to admit that the rest of us

are just background, still, their heads shall not roll

because of childhood agreements,

those peace treaties of the past.

As for you, I suppose you could have

stayed home, or crept across the rooftops

and just watched this show of force,

My dirty feet slapping the spilled drink floor

all off tempo and my paws pulling

at the off kilter top on a little countess,

but you make a good alibi,

conversation, and walking stick,

a compass to my heart

and the mask I’ll wear

In the two AM revolution.

Status Update

Captains log, star date 5/31/17… Hello Diane, it’s agent Cooper… extra extra, read all about… ladies and gentlemen of the court… in the red corner… hold onto your butts… LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE. I don’t post to social media much anymore, here’s some of my thoughts to explain why.

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The Company I Keep ( go to http://shirtlessmike.com/ )

I woke up this morning knowing I’ve been neglecting this blog for the past few months, and so my first action was to grab a cup of coffee and head straight to my good friend’s photography blog. Michael, Mike, Moldy Eye, Shirtless, Human Punching Bag, Demonic Fishpicking Maniac, WOOOOmanizer, Yogi, cereal magnet, world traveller, spiritual guru, the list of titles this man has is essentially endless. This of course is because  Continue reading