Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

I don't like it one bit when I write for you
I don't like it at all
To pander my words
to what I think you want to hear

I don't need that
I don't need another need
i want loosey goosey
light and breezy

I have had years of solitude
to perfect my loneliness
to focus on my selfishness
I don't even want a house plant

nothing here
to share
my lime light
just me and my computer

the world on a string
dangling from my keyboard
sterile and futile
as Mars

women
live such parallel lives with men
you would almost think they are people too
not just meat on the end of our pricks

woke this morning playing word games
in my head and a cramp in my leg
and thinking of you

It'll make Ethyl, Methyl, and carbon based life forms happy enough, but I decide to fight it Jack, I'm more than that. More to me, though I'm just some dumb girl batting her lashes when it suits me, still, I likes to fight for me. Beat you to the water. I'm strides ahead now, my long legs already dippin'.

I have killed more house plants than agent orange
My dog is dead
My cat is gone
and I am taking my pet rock to the pound
too much hassle taking care of it

I don't care,
I know how to wash myself
and I can swim.

I'm sorry I was so cranky about it. Hope you can forgive my orneryness. Momentarily I just became a pill. I mean, I get it that no one is entirely unique, and all that jazz. I noes it, but still a part of me wants to be so individual it eats me alive. I battle that, to become what I am to be, and it's not very dreamy like to think what I'll become is just what any gal becomes. It's so disappointing at times, it sours me up and my attacks are plenty cause of it.
Again, my apologies, it's not at all your fault, just me with a temper tantrum.

I don't get it dame
I don't get the I got to be me thing
I mean who else could you be?

As for myself
no I was born to follow.
I am no rugged individualist
I did not set out to be different

to climb my sorrowful hill and break my mothers heart
IT is the exception that interests the Devil"

I'm sorry I was so cranky about it. Hope you can forgive my orneryness. Momentarily I just became a pill. I mean, I get it that no one is entirely unique, and all that jazz. I noes it, but still a part of me wants to be so individual it eats me alive.

well it is hard to get by with just an emoticon.

Nothing eating me anymore. Nothing has a chance against me. I eat everything in sight except me. I don't know you or why I interest you. But you have helped me a lot.
When you say your ex almost murdered you I shudder.

In a room where women come and go
I have measured out my life in mile markers
I have looked at life from both sides
And I really don't know women at all
My life as tragic as a torn candy wrapper blowing in the wind
I been ready teddy to rock and rolll for years
The only thing that holds me here is love.

See ya

I was prolly over-doing it a tad, but he was extremely intense and guess I summed it up on almost murder. But, he never laid a hand on me. All's good, just heavy motion. Things do eat me up, and I get hungry myself. Can't say I don't eat steak. I get hungry.

Don't worry Jack. I know I'm too much.
As soon as I can get to grips with my insides, it'll be spiritual and calming. I'm too much even for myself to get relaxed. Maybe the 10 will find me a mellow woman. There could be time for it, or not, but we seize the day and handle it till tomorrow.

Jack, I'll try to reword and not go so much on my first thoughts. I just likes your way, your words, it feels familiar and I guess I get lost down the rabbit trail too much. I never stop to think how someone will feel if I pretend the way I do. I just react. Trying to work on it.

That's why I started writing poetry, because instead of just react, I played in it better, till it was nicer, edited or what-not. But, here I'm just writing first thoughts, not at all thinking any of it out much.

A woman's a lot of trouble. You've figured that out though.

Yes women are a lot of trouble but...

I am not putting the knock on dolls. It's just that they are something to have around only when they come in handy... like cough drops.

Sky Masterson Guys and Dolls.

RE:
The Lunatic within me

I guess men are handy too sometimes like the ultimate accessory.

Had a good night with my sister. She came over to get away from her son.

Wait till your son starts dating
You will know how well you have done by the girls he brings home.

One day I will over come my inhibitions about writing more about my sister and her mother. Yes tragedy could be us too.

But I like this quote from Santayana

Treat your family like friends and your friends like family.

well good night dame
get back to you tomorrow
well actually get back to you later today
three am here set my alarm for eight get over
to my sisters house by nine bring her some fried matzos
for breakfast and see how the scene goes down if my nephew is rational if any lessons have been learned today must be Tuesday

Treat your family like friends and your friends like family.

I like that Jack. My friends are my family, my girlfriends are my sisters and my son at least is sometimes a best friend. He likes to pull a chair up once in awhile and we gab till early morning about all sorts of crazy talk together. We really entertain like my grandmother and I did over cards and wine. Feels similar.

Here's a peek-see--
before I tied the destructive knot, I held a community house for my friends that I loved like family, I shared my bed with how ever many could fit in with me. Lots of pictures of us all piled in there together.

Family to dinner were my sister friends and whatever guys we liked to keep around us for amusement at the time. We fed them good, all the ladies cooking them home cooked steaks and mashed potatoes and veggies. Big dinners, good wine, cards and then curl up together in a tight ball. Never felt cold in those days. Never hungry. Felt like I'd had it all.

Didn't sneak the lunatic past ya very well.

Dreamed about trucking again
I have so many jobs and homes
in the past sixty nine years
there was on stretch of about 11 years
that I held onto one job
and lived on the road as a wandering gypsy
when I lost that road I lost everything

I dreamed I got fired last night
As usual I told the truth
which was obvious anyway
I don't know what that dream meant
Harbinger of things to come

He puts a gun to his head
But it is really to his mother's head
Suicide when murderous rage turns against the self

Dear Mom
teach your sons so well
their grandfather's hell goes by
so slowly

I guess a lunatic is what I need
Blame it on the moon

I do blame the moon on much, it is that superstitiousness in me.
I don't know how I survived the full blue moon on New Years.
I don't know if I need a lunatic, only a special type of person. I try to rid myself of my lunatic self. Most days I think I have, until I go in wrecks.

Don't go to wrecks Jack. You're made and cut out for something spectacular. I can tell it by your writing. Maye an author? Do the Fyodor thing or Hawthorne or Hemingway. Save the wrecks for piecing pages together and put your shot-gun there, only in writing. You've a knack for it.

Reading this scared me, I don't want to think of suicide. Or of you with that creeping into your nights. Don't you go anywhere Jack. It's not your time.

You're scaring me Jack...
pop on for if not talking, just to ease my mind, please

I am not suicidal dame
other than in life style
my diet is suicidal
other than that I am doing okay