"The Suggestive 5am Frame of Mind"

As my fellow-flirter/old-university friend and I exchange messages back and forth, the analysis of his use of "Hmms" in text messages provokes the creation and debate of the concept of "the suggestive 5am frame of mind". Dirty thoughts coupled with long-harbored feelings of sexual attraction seem to form clearer shapes and come out to play playfully and erotically suggestively. But what is my suggestive 5am frame of mind? It is a mix of hide and seek, a ping pong of witty remarks thrown here and there to provoke a reaction; albeit sexual or flirty in nature. We throw around comebacks like professional tennis players, each adamant on winning; as if the game of wits was the ultimate Wimbledon. But what is his suggestive 5am frame of mind? That remains to be seen...or discovered and further analyzed at a future match of suggestive exchanges.

Sunburn

Oh but where do I begin...it has been awhile since our last time, inexistent readers! It's been months, memories, drunken nights, mistakes, laughs since our last meet but here we are, yet again in a hurt mood. I guess the writer in me only comes out when the pain slashes deep, as if the darkness of this unknown blog somehow provides comfort and venue of talking the numbness away...in the form of typed words.

My mother had her shoulder surgery today...and I, instead of working at NCC, I decided to cancel with the pretext of my mother's surgery and spend the day with Y instead because the pleasure was more tempting than the duty of either my professional commitments or my family ones. And then 5pm rolled by and I checked my email, only to find that the position I applied for and interviewed for (twice) and thought that had in the bag (partied two nights in a row thinking I got it) was going to this other girl only because she had been there longer. At least, that's what am telling myself right now. And then I had to run and be with my mother who had just come out of surgery, a task that I guiltily had postponed till so late which I now had to fulfill (without the initial gifts in tow like the flowers, or the fruits, or the food, etc failed promises in head). So I went for the second time ever to my mother's room where she has been living for the past few months and I felt so sad, so encapsulated by the sadness of having ignored my own mother for so long while being busy paying attention to anybody who might offer good times. I felt horrible and disgusted with myself...felt a complete fake! Here I was, preaching kindness to all my friends while ignoring the most important part in a person's life, their mother. So, to make myself feel better, I decided to massage her feet with cream since they are always hurting and she always feel better after I massage them. And as I was massaging my mother's feet and my tears were rolling and making a small pond on my tights, I hear my mother all of a sudden say how only her psychiatrist and the 70+ Italian granpa are the only people that have supported her and taken good care of her lately.

It was a sentence that hit me, slapped me, spit at me the reality that I had ignored to see. I realized how much I had not been there for her, how bad of a daughter I had been...and how selfish of me to just focus on evading my problems while ignoring hers. And so at that moment, I promised to myself (as I had done countless times before) that I would change and start being there for her, that it would do us both good. So I left somehow better, but still very sad. I arrived home, saw the mess in my house, went upstairs and viewed the same in my room...and sparked my tiny roach. I listened to music and had a cigarette, and I cried briefly at intervals over my failures and my mistakes, all the meanwhile already formulating another action plan that most likely will soon be forgotten.

What I am trying to say, inexistent readers, after all this long ass story is that it is difficult to avoid problems without encountering others and without fucking yourself over even more. I realized that tonight, as I have countless times before, I must change and for the first time keep to my plans, not just write, dream or talk about them. But I suppose that this time around, we will have to see whether this is the last "countless times before".
I hope I can get over my crippling procrastination habits, my ADD, my addiction to people and my love of pursuing numbness methods. I must be brave enough to allow days of utter pain...for only then will I rise above it. My phoenix moment, perhaps can only be achieved through total isolation from others and immersion into my hobbies and work. Will I be self disciplined enough to achieve it? God knows. Will I try? Well...that...only time knows!

Entangled in your web,
I cry.
Amongst your sheets,
I scream.
Wrapped in your arms,
I lie,
Breathing your love,
I dream.

I found you on a tuesday night,
made love to you on wednesday,
cried like an idiot by 4 am thursday,
became one with you on friday.

Saturday came and rolled without you,
sunday found me back to you.
Monday came and went with you,
Tuesday and wednesday again us two.

Who would have thought that you,
a specimen entirely different from me,
a boy man of twenty five,
would make me feel complete?

I am not saying,
that this week has not been amazing.
But some things are to be devoured quickly,
savoured at the moment,
then discarded appropriately.

Now you are a memory one week gone,
and the smell of your skin on mine,
all washed.
But our times spent together will always be found,
in my memory lanes, in a special corner;
squashed!

Colour Me Green

Green, used to be my favourite colour in high school...chose it as a career in university, then somewhere in the maze of life, I got lost and believed it was not possible as a destination. Now Green has re-appeared in my life and with it, hope. But, Green is also still far-fetched, still a dream. My background is Geography, more accurately, Geography and Earth Sciences with a Special Focus on Urban Planning. In reality, I have no such focus. The focus was more of the type of classes I was taking in my last year of university. Then I added my minor of Economics which I then turned into a major, something that still requires me to finish one class for me to be eligible for my B.A. My academic failures are being felt, even more so now in my desire to change or define a career path. I would like to pursue a master's but who would accept me with such marks? And to find a job in the sustainability market seems as feasible as flying to the moon. Or is it? Canada talks of a growing green job market, but U.S. seems the real force behind it. What do I do, o-internet-world? How do I approach this? How do I win this? I hope Green can answer...

In retrospect, I wish I had never fallen in love and that I had actually stayed for my OAC year. But alas, we cannot change the past, only the present. And my present, seems adamant to want to stay stagnant...despite my many futile attempts.

Guilty Kisses

At the back of the room, in a tunnel vision kind of moment, you appeared. All blue eyes and sweet smile, looked at me and somehow grabbed my attention. Perhaps it was the fact you were a girl. Perhaps the fact that I felt something at that moment. But then we gravitated toward each other, we danced, grabbed hands and smiled at our souls. Then we danced in our drunken stupor and while I stared into the blueness of your eyes, we kissed. Yes, I kissed a girl and I liked it.

Now, let this moment be the first towards me breaking my threshold of sexual limits.

"She believes what she says. But she only believes what she wants to believe. And only for that moment."
Parade's End

Little girl, big girl complex.

I stumbled upon a cutesy, seemingly cheesy teenager movie while I was on youtube today and feeling in a girly mood, I decided to watch it. Surprisingly, the movie was cute, well-written and with some marvelous performances from its young actors. But one thing kept kind of pinching me throughout the whole movie...the realization that not much has changed for me in terms of inner behaviour. I seem to be experiencing my teenage years in my 20s because when I was in my teens, I was too busy trying to act like I was in my 20s. And so, here I am, regressing and digressing about regressing. The main thing I was trying to say is that I am still like a teenager...in fact, I feel like now more than ever, I am a teenager. I want cutesy things, am completely lost as to who I am or who I want to be, I seem to constantly be angry and yelling at my parents and I cannot hold a boy for the life of me. I also seem to have many friends but no real ones...so perhaps, unlike the standard teenager movie where a girl apparently has three best friends, I don't even have one...well, kind of a half one. But she is more of once-a-year-when-i-have-a-problem kind of best friend, you know, the kind that you end going to only when you have a major crisis or they do.

Anyway, I must admit that the channels of life as a woman approaching 30 are goddamn tricky and fuck me, fucking strong currents in some cases. Like for example, the channels of finding a job, pretty strong to navigate. The channels of finding love, pretty fucking shallow and rocky. The channels of figuring out what you want, pretty deep and dark. The channels of avoiding marriage talk by parents and cousins and friends of parents and other people who are and the rest of your engaged or married friends; pretty fucking murky and full of unwanted dirt.

Basically, being a woman nowadays is a fucking blast...but a constant pressure to be perfect. It is no longer necessary to just be beautiful, one must be good at just about everything to even attract a semi-decent dude nowadays 'cause let's face it, we wall want someone better than us, right? So if I'm a loser, who the fuck will want me? Oh wait, a properly equal loser...wrong!! Even a loser doesn't want a loser. You need to get your shit together so others can notice. Yeah, that's right, this post is bitingly rancid, just like my life and me....Nah, I love writing rancid, I seem to be best at it. But who is entertained by happy, seriously? I kind of get turned on by my own emo-state sometimes, my darkness inside, my edgy sarcasm, my prejudiced observations and my shockingly honest humour. If only I could translate these into something financial-worthy or love-worthy, I would be golden. Where can I find someone to pay me to be starkly honest and brilliantly bitchy all the time? God, it feels good!!! I want to write my own bad-ass character so I can play it and enjoy living it. Hmmm, I will spend some time character-creating.