Bloody Lip

Today, I was caught a bit off guard. She possessed a rather simplistic beauty. I was captivated to a point of ungracefulness. I know her face. I have seen here a number of times prior. In an effort to remain amongst the living, we must eat, thus we must shop for our sustenance, coincidentally at the same store.   I have seen her in many stages of aesthetic presentation. Today however, she was dressed down. Hair up, no makeup, embraced in the comfort of sweats. The ability, despite her unpolished appearance, to captivate ones attention amongst a sea of sparkling diamonds was quite uncanny. I was entranced. We zig-zagged our separate was across the store. Narrowly avoiding a number of collisions as we obliviously criss-crossed paths like rudderless ships passing in the night.
I am a rather reserved, shy guy upon first impression. I could characterize that as an accurate representation of myself even upon knowing me. Although I may have ninja like stealthiness, or rather, a quite demeanor, I do posses those boisterous moments. This was not one of those times. I'll admit, in the presence of girls that are pretty I may fall victim to my own shyness. In even a few cases, to my awkwardness. I lose all capacity of my resolve. The self-assuredness oozes from my being in haste like an oil spilling tanker. My mind explodes into a storm of unfunctionality. Up is really down, blue is green, hamburgers are words.
I've learned something new about myself today. Maybe this 'tick' was always present within the confines of my awkward nature, but I realized something I wasn't before aware of. Said 'tick' manifests itself as the unfortunate biting of my lower lip. This phenomenon seems to be ever present while I am in close proximity to that girl that captivates my senses. I say unfortunate because not only is it painful, but it makes a bloody mess of my lip. What is more appealing to a girl than a gawky guy, ogling uncomfortable beams of yearning from his beady eyes whilst profusely bleeding from his crookedly smiling face-hole. If only I had the ability to reverse time and relive those moments with more of a stedfast certainty.
Side Note: Accelerate research and development of time machine.
As per usual, no attempts were made on my part to extend the olive branch of communication to the young lady who had me twisted up in knots. I must once again brush off the shame of unconfidence. Reapply the poise in which will hopefully lessen the number of missed chances to meet someone new. Someone captivating.

New Blog Smell

Well, well, well...I find myself in re-acquaintance with the forgotten chunk of my cerebral purgings. I now have to reacquaint myself with the process of funneling the tornado of brainwork, that is my mind. into a coherent rant of rationalization that one might have the capacity of deciphering. The fog is thick and heavy. The rust is substantially frozen into place. Bare with me as I struggle, much like a newborn fawn, to establish my creative footing and regain my nimble writerly stride.

I am not totally sure where exactly these posting will lead both in content or within the blogosphere. I have hopes that I can continue purging thought in some form or another. Whether it be mundane musings of my day or ridiculously concocted stories pulled from the fringes of my imagination, I will make a home for them here as often as I am able. Be excited, scared, worried, perplexed, nauseous...

Good, but not that kind of good...

Once again I reflect. I've found that who I am and what I am to others are not one in the same. I have become, or always have been but a mere commodity. Competing for ones attention and or affection has become a broken record in the soundtrack of my life. I tend to sacrifice much of myself in the interest of pleasing others and to just merely keep them around. My identity has been lost. Who I am as a person is far less important to those I've known than the things that I may potentially provide. I am a common real life "app" for some of the people in my world. One may have all that they want, but may be missing that one thing that entertains them, which is where I come in. There when you need it. Easily accessible, as well as discarded when need be. I may not be worth much, but I am worth something. I am not going to readily give that away to those who only care about what I may provide. An acquired taste, but worth the wait.

Letter Amongst the Ashes

Dear "Friend," it seems as though we have inevitably come to our expiration date. Time well spent during a period which came and gone terribly fast. Your addiction is no more. Bravo, I knew all too well that brighter days would triumph, allowing you to overcome the devilish gaze of said addiction. So much seemingly left in interpretation can only do more harm than good. With far more questions than answers, you are left feeling as though sinking, in a sand of quick, first impulse is to struggle. The desperate curiosity furthers your restless nature until an uneasy panic sets in. To lay and wait only seems to be but a slow death. Led astray myself, I found that I was unclear of my place in a world which was not revealed to me at all. Hints do not beget clarity. Insincerity is not a means to flattery. By all accounts, it is not flattery at all. It is but a poisonous seed planted in a newly sown field of "friendship." Confusion, and a healthy sorrow is what I carry with me as I continue along my path. It is unfortunate that ties could not remain at this time, but as life ventures on, I will be able to recount my steps hopefully leading me back to a time and place where a friendship may once again be harvested. I wish you well on your ventures in life. I hope you find what it is that you are looking for. Que Sera Sera...

I Love the Suffer

I've been stricken to contemplation. Over the past couple of weeks I've been hearing the song, "Love the way you lie," by Eminem Feat. Rhianna being played on the radio. The tone of the melody struck sharply a chord within me. A painfully tragic love story. I may not have a complete understanding to truly know the sincerity of such pain expressed within the lyrics, but I do know of the suffering endured. I am not absolutely sure that I have ever truly been "in love." Unrequited, and an illusionary manifestation of love created for my own demise. Simply put, a remarkable human experience I am unworthy of and destined to never truly know. It is not my heart I wear on my sleeve, it is the heartbreak. I am drawn to the torment. It is the unrelenting torture that I endure that truly provides me with the sensations of the living. Forever I will pay my penance with a life unfulfilled. Pain will be my only refuge in escape from the comfortably familiar arms of apathy. I want to feel, so I love the suffer.

Meant For Goodbyes

The other night I had a totally random and peculiar dream. I really don't know what it meant, nor do I read into it at its face value, however, what I do know is that the inner workings of my brainial cavity sprung into life. The screeching sounds of the rusted metal cogs echoed endlessly in the vast void taking up residence between my ears.
About said dream. It wasn't anything really spectacular, out of the ordinary, nor was it disturbing in any way. It was simply a straight forward story that unfolded just as one of those awkward "boy meets girl" Hollywood vomit films might. The one random variable of this story was the particular "girl" who played the leading female role of this "dream film." A blast from the past who we will just call, "Lilly." So, in this dream......I was talking with a guy friend, whom I really don't know, nor have ever seen before. He is introducing me to his wife, Lilly. They have two children, and a seemingly happy marriage. My friend has no idea I knew Lilly, which makes our introduction quite awkward, yet pleasantly surprising. Okay, so I don't recall exactly how the dream concluded, but that really doesn't matter so much. This is the jump off where the thoughts and or questions began materializing within my mind-dome.
About Lilly. Lilly is someone I met probably twelve or thirteen years ago. Wow, typing that all out makes me feel quite old. She had left a significant imprint in my life during that time. Anyhow, I probably haven't seen her for about nine or ten of those years. We've sort of kept in touch through online messages, emails, etc. here and there over the course of these years, basically just updating our lives in under 150 characters. We continue to talk, but paths no longer cross. I don't expect anything from her, much like I might have in the beginning. I believe we've both conceded the point at one time or another that in a different time, place, and or circumstance our relationship might have diverted down another path. One I know I had hoped for. However, I believe now that not to be the case. Lilly and I were always meant for a goodbye. Her curiosities of my life and well being are, and have always been one of waning interest. I will always wonder what paths she will be lead down.
I am perplexed as to the how and why this seemingly insignificant and rather brief whirlwind of circumstance produced more of an imprint in my life than did an eight year relationship with a girl that I was supposed to love. That moment in my time line is one that I'll always remember. Those are the moments you hope to fill your life with as to look back upon at the end. I certainly hope I find more of those so that I may erase the years I've wasted.
In the end, despite what anyone says, Lilly included, love/like will always be unrequited. Whether it be in a dream or waking life, whatever will be, will be...

*I think I had forgotten by the end of this post where I was going with it. Certainly, if I recall anything else, I will add it later.

Whatever works

I knock on the door.

A woman answers. As she opens the door, she immediately raises her hand, her index finger reaches upward, pressing firmly on the doorbell attached to the door.

(The doorbell rings.)

She turns to me with an insolent look and says, "Yep, it works."

"So does knocking." I tell her. "You opened the door, did you not?"