| — | Diane von Furstenberg |
So a photographer I’ve been wanting to work with for 5 months now, contacted me the other day. He wants to use me in his next project. Great, that’s what I should feel like right? So why is it that I can’t help but be upset over the fact that they most likely than not won’t have anything that fits me. I foresee them struggling to pin the backs of outfits together in an attempt to make them hold onto my body. Most women kill for smaller frames, but not me, I’ve spent my entire life from the point where self-awareness kicked in craving a fuller figure. Granted a little over a year ago I’ve actually grown to love my body. So why is it that this is pushing me further back? It makes me wonder if I’ve actually made any progress at all. Anywhoville, back home on my couch I have some cupcakes that are calling my name. =) You’ve got to love me.
In a generation where term papers, self-imposed blog deadlines, dance classes, payroll processing, and preservative drenched microwaveable food take precedence over the joys of life, anxiety is all one needs to produce caffeine-like effects to make for a simulated healthy individual.
Every day on my way to work after I leave union station I pass by a small group of men passing out RedEyes. I’m pretty sure they’re city workers. There’s one man in particular that is always in such a chipper mood. He calls all the women pretty ladies, comments on all the lovely smiles, and not only tells everyone but insists we enjoy the lovely day it is, and if it’s raining he talks about enjoying it because following it there will be sunny days. Overly pleasant people can have a way of irritating me, but there’s something about this man in particular that I enjoy. It’s almost as though he inspires me to be more appreciative of the little things. But how can he not? He’s a middle aged man that works in all kinds of weather rain sleet or snow, bright and early in the morning, dealing with all sorts of people, snobby college students, disoriented tourists, arrogant adult executives, youthfully anxious administrative professionals, and short tempered not-quite-early-birds-like myself and he does it all with what seems to be a genuinely selfless desire to spread joy. And I’m not talking about the Kris Kringle’s stressful going home for the holidays type of joy, because apparently that’s what you’re supposed to be during the holiday season. We’re obligated to be joyful. Well at least there’s usually a delectable menu involved during that time which helps to make the whole “grinning and bearing it” mental self-pep talk much more viable. But I digress. This man who withstands mother nature’s brutal punches to supply the public with free daily tabloids with his, what looks like should be a face of sadness due to it’s weathered look that strikes me to have been caused by some unfortunate events life has thrown his way, yet still, his smile and demeanor invoke a feeling of envy in me. But not the negative kind. The inspiring kind. Maybe one day I’ll build up some sort of courage and ask him how he does it, how he sifts through this unforgiving life seemingly untainted and unaffected. But for now I’ll be content with my cowardly ways, because there’s always that slight chance that I’ve got this guy read all wrong and that this pleasant demeanor of his is all just some sort of sick lie.
receive me as an open book
tattered up leather-bound
with all its grief & misery
paired w/ wretched dialogue enough to ignite
neurological dysfunction
dismembered hope brings you to your knees as you beg for affection
let tears kiss your cheeks
(that’s when writer’s block decided to kick in ._. )
Intro:
Together their island is day
A day where Frost helped Evening smile
A goddess’ view, changed
You see she no longer stalks time
Nor does she sell sweet island blues
In spring she paints power
During the milky summer
She walks around and wallows behind pleasure
End:
Everything he believed and cherished is dead
His rap makes lips sleep, gold microphones pray
While the rhythm tells a story
A story of how her velvet curls bathe in his mercy and misery
Storyline:
You see he heard Desire as it ran toward his silver fantasy
He beckoned it near
And as she approached him
Her statuesque figure captivated his gaze while penetrating his peace
Lesson:
Careful to allow curiosity to investigate mischievous awakenings
For snake eyes hold wild notions that many a fool fall to
Epilogue:
they wrote only about what they understood
Because Forever can only hold a moment
And without each other they can weave no soul
♥ Strudel
(this is an oldie)
“The laws of physics are basically the laws of life. With all the unpredictable chaos around us, there are certain universal constants, gravity, speed of light. These constants never change even when everything else around them does. Life is full of unknowns and when those unknowns are too overwhelming, it’s the constants that we have to hold onto.”
I sit at my cold canvas producing lines
erotic and sadistic in its existence
with hopes, futile in nature, that it will somehow
sustain my cravings
I once was a secular child pure in thought but now
my minds forever trapped by the swarms of
incessant memories of her hand on my stomach
as she placed her lips against my thighs
A bloodstained story of an ancient language
one so malevolent it defeats the soul
and has left me crippled for an eternity
It was her brilliance and each movement that she made
that lead to my destruction
She was woman and so was everything about her
Pulling my body towards hers, torso to torso,
not even the holiest of jolts could have brought me back
my senses were to far obscured by her fragrance,
and the feel of her hand on the small of my back
Her kiss sent a pulse of electricity through the rivers of my blood
Proud and immaculate…she was predator
Naive and humble…I was her prey
Feeding my sick desire for intimacy in the most superficial of ways,
she engulfed me
The contours of her neck, smooth and fragrant
my intense desire to taste, a reality
The curves of her body pressed against mine
left me breathless and yearning for more
I needed her to ravage me, to take each inch
of my trembling body and devour it
♥ Strudel
| — | Senor Aguilar |
