Month: November 2015

Last NaBloPoMo Post & Pap Smear!


Happy to eat you November Blogging.


Today I could have wrote about possibly the worst pap smear I have ever received. I could have written about how just her finger going in felt really wrong. I could have written about how the speculum felt like a piece of old plastic that did not go in without force or unwelcome friction. I don’t even want to write about how just the doctor getting the sample made my hands push my body up and away from the table, which my back struggled to lay on naturally. I don’t even want to write about the apologies that she kept giving me during and after the procedure. I don’t want to record her opinion on my sensitivity and the white chunks I saw on her latex gloves. Was that conversation I had with the overly nice male nurse even worth mentioning when he handed me my prescription? (Especially when he said that it was for my “lady parts.”)

You always feel violated afterwards…

… And a feeling to need to pee.



I have finished THIRTY blogs this month! It was not easy. (Even though I sometimes cheated) I have a lot of things to work on when it comes to my writing. I’m not the best writer, but I don’t think that I am the worst!

I went through a lot in the beginning of this month. A lot of self-doubt and confusion. I do feel like I am in a better place but not without some damage to my creativity. (Which had happened during the middle of this month)

Thanks National Blog Posting Month (NaBloPoMo) for existing. I would like to say that my goal is to do NaNoWriMo at least once, but I am glad I am taking baby steps. This was a good exercise in self-discipline and creativity and I am glad that I did it.

Proud moment.

The Almost Balcony Dive


Foals concert – 11/29/15   (balcony view)

He was rocking on the stage. His hair moving to the energy of the music he was playing. His feet twirling and stopping as if choreographed to be wild. There were fans screaming and waving their arms to the music. Fists pumped into the air, keeping time to the beat of the drums. And in the middle of it all, he suddenly stopped singing. He stopped strumming his electric guitar. The rest of the band started to repeat a hard melody over and over again. He walked off the stage with his electric guitar, walked down the steps of the side stage and disappeared into a side door. Was he peeing? Was he going to change his shirt? A minute later there were screaming fans in the top balcony. He had walked all the way upstairs and passed through the fans. They were all elated and in shock at the same time. Some using this moment to touch his person or to take blurry photos. He walked to the front of the upper balcony. He looked down at the fans below. Everyone was wondering what he was about to do. Mouths agape. He looked long and hard at the people below. No. He was not going to jump, or… was he? But what if those drunk fans don’t catch him safely or what if he falls onto that wooden divider?!  Alas, our rock star decides not to jump after a second glance. He goes back down to the first floor and another silence and confusion happens in his absence. Now he is at the back of the concert hall, he tosses his guitar to his skinny bodyguard, climbs said divider with tightrope accuracy and jumps into the back of the crowd. With hands touching every part of his body, they attempt to bring him back to the stage. They dropped him twice, one fall more dramatic than the last sink into the crowd. His excitement from the crowd surfing was nonstop. He was amazing; he tried to stay high and aware all at once. He already did one stage dive and now this slightly epic moment occurs. Once the hands had returned him to the stage, the crowd goes wild. He receives his guitar back and completes the song that the other members have been prolonging in his absence.

He should have went for it.



I Stare Off Into Space…

I am here.

I feel a light around me but I don’t notice it right away.

I am in my own world.

In my own world I don’t see your face.

You must address me by my name to snap me out of it.

I might recall a song,

Or a television show,

Or how a character in a story made me feel,

Or I may concentrate on an emotion that I cannot share,

Or how an instance (whether real or made up) made me laugh or cry.

I can also be upset that I am in a certain place,

Not capable of flourishing in the setting that I am in.

Sometimes I focus on things that are out of my control,

It shouldn’t have happened, I should have done or said this,

I focus on my future,

I focus on my past,

 I rarely like to focus on the present.

Sometimes I pretend to be someone else.

Sometimes I am a better person.

Sometimes I am harsh and horrible.

I focus on things I cannot tell others about.

They will not understand.

They will judge.

I must do this on my own.

I need some time in my world before I introduce you to my problem. I need to think here. I need to process. I need to laugh at myself. I need to cry here. I need to smile stupidly. I need to feel something here before you can attempt to feel it with me.

Another Worldly Being

He had the skin of a light blue sky. Ritual tattoos that were all over his arms. His fingers were thin and graceful. His upper body was muscular and dimensional. His eyes were large, black and gleaming. His nose was sharp, small and had an air of quiet reign.

She had the skin color of sheer lava. Her arms were graceful and strong. Her figure was  of an hourglass, with large hips. She had ears that peaked and almost were the height of the top of her head. Her silver eyes danced in their sockets. Her smile had small white fangs that only expressed her kindness.

Two different species.

One kind of love.

His world full of Cerus and hers dominated by Rubis. They were not supposed to meet that one day at the military trade port but they bumped into one another after she dropped the sharp end of her shield on his shoe by accident. He was in pain but when he looked up at her they eyes met.

He was a highly-ranked military commanders son and she was her world’s first pacifistic president’s daughter. Their views were not the same. Father against son. Mother against daughter. But they couple believed in balance in power among their two worlds.

They worried about their love growing stronger. They worried about the mixed species children that they would have. They worried about not finding someone to match the other before they fell in love to deeply.

They had to engage a hard face to the world every day. Showing their beliefs and sharing stories of past failures. They tried to negotiate a treaty to merge the two planets in to more friendly agreements.

What will happen to their love? What kind of fights do each lover have to battle? Are they too different? Will they be together? Can they be together?



Oh you foul beast. You take a million years to prepare. You bring out the worst in us with your high-maintenance dressing. But you are simple. You are great at making me full. Gather your fibers between my teeth. Take your bland flesh and let me chew upon you. Make me forget the world as a sloppily eat your legs with all ten of my fingers. Ahhh… I will take your joints and crunch them like bubble gum.

I am a carnivore tonight. That is all I am.


Every year that comes around you get a bit older. You get a bit wiser.

The Defender Of Man (Dom) is a good person. Dom is not your average person. Dom likes to understand and take time to process the world around him. He is not a stranger to life’s pleasures, disappointments or problems. Dom can face the world without fear. Without much judgement. Without much skepticism. Dom knows who he is. Loyal and forgiving. Truthful and lighthearted. He is a friend, an enemy and a slap in the face rolled up into one person. He has his faults, though they seem minor, but he is loving and kind. Knowing that doesn’t say much for his tenacity or strong-will. He can be indecisive. He can be worried. He cares a little too much sometimes. He is not afraid to bring out his opinion. He can talk for hours about something that he knows. He educates without condescending you. Dom is his name.

He does something that I have seen others do. He stares aimlessly into the air at times. I wonder what he thinks about. I wonder if he can see me stare at him out of the corner of his eye. His expression looks calm, yet ready. Perhaps he thinks about what I think about: another world. Either happier or much more frightening, you can’t control it. You can’t be in the moment for some reason. Something takes you away. Something is much more pertinent than this moment now. Or perhaps you are day dreaming or sleepy. Well played, Dom. Well played.

Happy Birthday to The Defender of Mankind.

Superficial Likeness

It’s the surface,

It gleams and shines,

It doesn’t explain quality,

It’s just words that you know,

Feeling that you felt,

A place you’ve been,

A thought you processed.

You know that you are capable,

That you are a good enough person,

But the world just wants you to be bold,

So bold that you are almost a different person.

You succeed, you worry, you sweat, you love,

But you fail sometimes.

That’s life. It doesn’t mean you are done,

It means that you need more strength,

More practice, more support, more love.

It is superficial that the world cannot tell you otherwise.

That if it was easy versus if it was given to you.

The kindest people are often the most talented.

In what field, I do not know.

Uninspired: Part 3

What inspires me?

Nothing at the moment.

I wonder if this is because of the new drugs I’m on. I really hope it passes. I don’t feel like writing. I don’t feel inspired at all. To do anything.

This empty shell that I have created. I am upset over you. I move my fingers around. I can’t feel the fingerprints. I feel a light brush.

I don’t like this. I can’t write the same things that I am used to writing. I don’t know what to do.

Uninspired: Part 2

This post was written in the future. It contains rants and other things.

I was sorta busy but not really. I have not been feeling like writing at all this past week. Like zero percent. I have actually thought of some decent things to write about but when I put my hands on the keyboard, I am lost.

The day is Sunday.

I am frustrated with myself. What am I doing with my life? Why do I sit and watch 30 Rock all day?  I am full of angst but mostly have a fidgety mind. Why do I sit here? Why didn’t I shower? Screw this. I am going to the park. I get dressed in my workout clothes and leave to the park. It’s a drive. The whole way, I hope that there aren’t a lot of people. I arrive. The air is great. Not too hot, not too cold. Perfect. Something is wrong. I notice that the park is less green than usual. In fact, there is dead grass all around. A dead tree in the middle of the lake. Eyesore. I walk. I like to go the route that is usually the opposite of most people. I don’t like knowing that there are people behind me. I look in sadness as I see families feeding the ducks white bread. I see that many ducks have the “Angel Wing” which I know makes them unable to fly. Little kids are feeding the ducks and the animals are getting hostile. I walk past the smelly poop. I walk three laps around the entire park. I decide to get a salad at Tom’s. Yum. I rediscover this online game called ClickDEATH and how much I liked playing it. I decide to take a bath filled with lavender epsom salts and read my book about a Lakota woman. I use the rest of the salt and stay in the bath for a while. I text my friend The Warrior about a possible road trip around Christmas. Maybe up to Canada. I am excited. Relaxed and clean, I jump into my freshly made bed. I do not sleep well.

Just a day in the life. Bare bones. Major feelings. Doesn’t tell you anything. I would talk about the wind in my hair or how cute the babies in strollers were. I would talk about the young couples and the old couples holding hands. I would talk about how I felt sad about seeing them live this life that I wanted. I would talk about why I love to watch 30 Rock so much. I would talk about how I almost burned myself as I initially stepped into the bath. I would talk about how comfortable my heavy comforter was against my skin. I would talk deeply about any of these things, but I didn’t feel the reason to do so.

Uninspired: Part 1

This post was written in the future. It contains rants and other things.

I was sorta busy but not really. I have not been feeling like writing at all this past week. Like zero percent. I have actually thought of some decent things to write about but when I put my hands on the keyboard, I am lost.

The day is Saturday.

Today I hung out with her. The friend who acts like my friend. She is nice. I don’t ever run out of things to say. We talked a lot about things I liked. She showed interest. We explored. I almost got into a car accident. We found funny penguin cups. We saw babies. We talked about doing the things that we thought that we would never do. Thought prejudice. I really had a nice time.

A note on how I think:

Have you ever told yourself that you would never do something because it was something “lame” “mainstream” “because your parents did it” or “against your core values of being awesome” ? I have. Only to realize that I liked it or would totally pay big money for it. Those are the feelings that I regret sometimes. The feeling of being against something without actually trying it. The sad part is that I keep having that feeling.