Ink
I'm in love with your ink
How it covers every inch of your arms
I wonder what you're hiding from
The way your hair always falls over your eyes
Always attached to your guitar
Strumming and stringing your stories
The veins in your neck explode as your words glide across my ears
It's not for me alone
But I feel every syllable
Each one a kiss
I want to heal you
I want to mirror you
Be etched on you like your ink
I want to be beautiful forever on your skin
Fading and still a part of
Spreading I'll never dissolve from you
I love the scruff on your face
You always scratch
Even right after you shave
Your arms hold me tighter then possible
You always hum in your sleep
Sometimes you sing
I can't imagine my life without you
I love your ring and the blue jewel
I love your hoodies
And pointless rhinestones
Your cowboy boots and high tops
Your ripped jeans and ratty brown leather coat
The necklaces you rarely take off
And watching you eat
I love your ink
How it's etched to your soul
I want to cling onto you forever
And I can't imagine myself anymore without you
Your strumming emerges in my dreams and keeps me comfort in your absence
It makes me cry and makes me feel nothing
I wonder what your hiding from
Your hair falling over your eyes
And the veins in your neck exploding
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 19, 2009
A Few of the Best Dates I've Ever Been On
These are a few of the best/most memorable dates I've been on. Not in an particular order, but just how I remember them.
The Kiwi
I went on a date with a Kiwi. A Kiwi is someone from New Zealand. I learned that amongst other things that night. It was our first date, and our only date. I met him downtown and had no idea what he had planned for the evening. We ended up taking a ferry trip around lower Manhattan to see the waterfall art installation that was up and then out to a New Zealand restaurant. I wrote in detail about this night in a blog called “Waterfalls and Kiwi’s”. I learned all about a bunch of things from him that I didn’t’ know about and we had a great time. There really wasn’t any initial attraction and we didn’t go out again, but I still had a great time. It was awesome to have someone put so much thought into a first date and really try to show me himself. I’ve dated people for months that told me less about them then I learned about him that night.
Anne Rice and Thai Food
It was Feb of a few years ago when I had my first date with someone that was a surprise. He was deeper then I thought he would be. We went to a Thai restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen and talked about books the entire time. Our favorite authors, places we had visited and places we wanted to go to. I love talking about books and its rare that you find someone in NY that actually reads a lot. I think his favorite author may have been Anne Rice, which I’ve never been able to get into. I picked up one of her books after that date, The Witching Hour, and I’ve never been able to get past the first ten pages. After dinner I walked him to some bar tending gig he had and we didn’t kiss. Generally if I really like someone, I won’t kiss on the first date. Is that weird? It’s like I’d rather hold off and just wait. When we did eventually kiss, it was worth the wait. I remember I was so nervous for our first date, on the subway I was listening to “Tonight, Tonight” by the Smashing Pumpkins, if my memory stands, I listened to that song before every date I had with him. I’m not sure why, but I know that every time I hear it, I think of him.
Madonna
I had been seeing Madonna for a while. Not the “real” Madonna, but rather someone that calls himself Madonna all the time. It’s always semi irritated me, but it kind of makes me like him more now. We had a “date night” and we would take turns picking out restaurants and planning the night. On this particular night we went to the Waverly Inn and had an amazing meal. The mac and cheese there is a hundred dollars a plate and well worth it. We sat in the back garden room and he moved his chair to the side of the table, next to the fireplace, so he could sit next to me. We drank wine and eat our faces off. It was ridiculously romantic and I felt special. It was awesome to have someone be so attentive and beautiful. On our way out we saw Meg Ryan eating and of course, the paparazzi outside didn’t give a fuck who we were, but one flash would have been nice. ☺ We then had drinks at a random bar that I’d never been to and then went back to his place. He has always been one of the best cuddlers I’ve ever had. The timing was wrong in our lives, but we actually had a ton of great dates and I’m sure one day he will make someone very happy. He will always have a special place in my heart.
Celebrating 20 Years of Sadness
I had been seeing this guy for a few weeks, and I had gotten us front row tickets to see The Smashing Pumpkins. He arrived late from work and we rushed up to the theater. It was way up on something like 170th street. It was a beautiful concert hall that I believe had once been a church. The architecture was beautiful. We started drinking beer and he whipped out his camera and insisted on taking tons of pictures. We got to our sets and stood the entire time. We danced, drank, kissed, held hands, and had an amazing time. I remember at one point, he simply leaned over and kissed my forehead, such a simple gesture and yet so wonderful. He was a horrible dancer, and it just made me like him more. After the concert we hopped in a cab where we cuddled the entire way downtown to a diner. We stuffed our faces, drank cheap champagne and talked about everything. He had to work in the morning, so he hopped in a cab and headed home after that. A little while after he sent me a text to tell me how he had such a great time and how awesome I am. On the way home I was listening to this song called “The Boy” by the Smashing Pumpkins, “I can't stop, I can't breathe, I can't think, I'm in love again
I don't need, I don't eat, I don't sleep, I'm in love again.” That night I told a few of my friends, “I’m absolutely falling in love with him.” We never saw each other again.
The Best of The Worst
This date is exactly the opposite of a great date, I think that’s why it sticks out and is one of the best I’ve ever had. It makes for a good story. This would be the first date of the second time this guy and I had started seeing each other. It had been probably a year since we had stopped seeing each other. Word from the wise, if it didn’t work the first time, it won’t the second. And generally, you will be reminded of exactly why it didn’t work the first time pretty fucking quickly. We met at his place, and then walked to what is one of my favorite restaurants in NY. Also, I recommend using the same restaurant with different dates. Is it just bad karma or setting yourself up for the same disappointment? I’m not sure, but I’ve stopped taking people to the same places. Honestly, this is NY, there are restaurants everywhere, so there really is no excuse. The first thing he said when he opened the door is, “wow, you are wearing a lot of colors..” in which I responded, “great to see you too.” Being the loud obnoxious guy he is, I brushed it off, and besides, he is pretty hot. I sat down on the couch while he finished getting ready, before we left he came over, wrapped his arms around me waist and kissed me. Then as he released he laughed and said, “How big is your waist, like 24?” At this point, I should have gotten up and walked out, but I didn’t. I kind of smirked, pushed him off me and said lets go to the restaurant. On the way to the restaurant, I was telling him how I had seen Christina Ricci recently and almost choked. She is one of my favorite actors and I didn’t say anything to her because I was too nervous. His response was something along the lines of, “Really? Christina Ricci and Alanis Morissette, we need to find you some new people to look up to.” We ate dinner and eventually after we went back to his place and had sex. Of course we still had sex, he was hot. And I think I like the battles a little bit. I didn’t call him the next day, or the next week. Eventually he sent me a text asking how I was and wanted me to go out with him again. I declined, and he couldn’t understand why. So I told him. He apologized, and I said I’d talk to him later. I never made the effort. Possibly one of the worst dates ever, and I still had sex with him? What was I thinking? I think I was thinking that even though he was an asshole, I still wanted him to want me. I was maybe 21 at the time and I had a void of a recent break up and he happened to fill the void for an evening. I think he will always be that kind of person, amazingly attractive, loud, and critical of everyone else. I’m sure he always gets what he wants, but I think inside he is probably just as sad as a lot of people and just as hurt, and also a lot better at covering it up.
The Kiwi
I went on a date with a Kiwi. A Kiwi is someone from New Zealand. I learned that amongst other things that night. It was our first date, and our only date. I met him downtown and had no idea what he had planned for the evening. We ended up taking a ferry trip around lower Manhattan to see the waterfall art installation that was up and then out to a New Zealand restaurant. I wrote in detail about this night in a blog called “Waterfalls and Kiwi’s”. I learned all about a bunch of things from him that I didn’t’ know about and we had a great time. There really wasn’t any initial attraction and we didn’t go out again, but I still had a great time. It was awesome to have someone put so much thought into a first date and really try to show me himself. I’ve dated people for months that told me less about them then I learned about him that night.
Anne Rice and Thai Food
It was Feb of a few years ago when I had my first date with someone that was a surprise. He was deeper then I thought he would be. We went to a Thai restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen and talked about books the entire time. Our favorite authors, places we had visited and places we wanted to go to. I love talking about books and its rare that you find someone in NY that actually reads a lot. I think his favorite author may have been Anne Rice, which I’ve never been able to get into. I picked up one of her books after that date, The Witching Hour, and I’ve never been able to get past the first ten pages. After dinner I walked him to some bar tending gig he had and we didn’t kiss. Generally if I really like someone, I won’t kiss on the first date. Is that weird? It’s like I’d rather hold off and just wait. When we did eventually kiss, it was worth the wait. I remember I was so nervous for our first date, on the subway I was listening to “Tonight, Tonight” by the Smashing Pumpkins, if my memory stands, I listened to that song before every date I had with him. I’m not sure why, but I know that every time I hear it, I think of him.
Madonna
I had been seeing Madonna for a while. Not the “real” Madonna, but rather someone that calls himself Madonna all the time. It’s always semi irritated me, but it kind of makes me like him more now. We had a “date night” and we would take turns picking out restaurants and planning the night. On this particular night we went to the Waverly Inn and had an amazing meal. The mac and cheese there is a hundred dollars a plate and well worth it. We sat in the back garden room and he moved his chair to the side of the table, next to the fireplace, so he could sit next to me. We drank wine and eat our faces off. It was ridiculously romantic and I felt special. It was awesome to have someone be so attentive and beautiful. On our way out we saw Meg Ryan eating and of course, the paparazzi outside didn’t give a fuck who we were, but one flash would have been nice. ☺ We then had drinks at a random bar that I’d never been to and then went back to his place. He has always been one of the best cuddlers I’ve ever had. The timing was wrong in our lives, but we actually had a ton of great dates and I’m sure one day he will make someone very happy. He will always have a special place in my heart.
Celebrating 20 Years of Sadness
I had been seeing this guy for a few weeks, and I had gotten us front row tickets to see The Smashing Pumpkins. He arrived late from work and we rushed up to the theater. It was way up on something like 170th street. It was a beautiful concert hall that I believe had once been a church. The architecture was beautiful. We started drinking beer and he whipped out his camera and insisted on taking tons of pictures. We got to our sets and stood the entire time. We danced, drank, kissed, held hands, and had an amazing time. I remember at one point, he simply leaned over and kissed my forehead, such a simple gesture and yet so wonderful. He was a horrible dancer, and it just made me like him more. After the concert we hopped in a cab where we cuddled the entire way downtown to a diner. We stuffed our faces, drank cheap champagne and talked about everything. He had to work in the morning, so he hopped in a cab and headed home after that. A little while after he sent me a text to tell me how he had such a great time and how awesome I am. On the way home I was listening to this song called “The Boy” by the Smashing Pumpkins, “I can't stop, I can't breathe, I can't think, I'm in love again
I don't need, I don't eat, I don't sleep, I'm in love again.” That night I told a few of my friends, “I’m absolutely falling in love with him.” We never saw each other again.
The Best of The Worst
This date is exactly the opposite of a great date, I think that’s why it sticks out and is one of the best I’ve ever had. It makes for a good story. This would be the first date of the second time this guy and I had started seeing each other. It had been probably a year since we had stopped seeing each other. Word from the wise, if it didn’t work the first time, it won’t the second. And generally, you will be reminded of exactly why it didn’t work the first time pretty fucking quickly. We met at his place, and then walked to what is one of my favorite restaurants in NY. Also, I recommend using the same restaurant with different dates. Is it just bad karma or setting yourself up for the same disappointment? I’m not sure, but I’ve stopped taking people to the same places. Honestly, this is NY, there are restaurants everywhere, so there really is no excuse. The first thing he said when he opened the door is, “wow, you are wearing a lot of colors..” in which I responded, “great to see you too.” Being the loud obnoxious guy he is, I brushed it off, and besides, he is pretty hot. I sat down on the couch while he finished getting ready, before we left he came over, wrapped his arms around me waist and kissed me. Then as he released he laughed and said, “How big is your waist, like 24?” At this point, I should have gotten up and walked out, but I didn’t. I kind of smirked, pushed him off me and said lets go to the restaurant. On the way to the restaurant, I was telling him how I had seen Christina Ricci recently and almost choked. She is one of my favorite actors and I didn’t say anything to her because I was too nervous. His response was something along the lines of, “Really? Christina Ricci and Alanis Morissette, we need to find you some new people to look up to.” We ate dinner and eventually after we went back to his place and had sex. Of course we still had sex, he was hot. And I think I like the battles a little bit. I didn’t call him the next day, or the next week. Eventually he sent me a text asking how I was and wanted me to go out with him again. I declined, and he couldn’t understand why. So I told him. He apologized, and I said I’d talk to him later. I never made the effort. Possibly one of the worst dates ever, and I still had sex with him? What was I thinking? I think I was thinking that even though he was an asshole, I still wanted him to want me. I was maybe 21 at the time and I had a void of a recent break up and he happened to fill the void for an evening. I think he will always be that kind of person, amazingly attractive, loud, and critical of everyone else. I’m sure he always gets what he wants, but I think inside he is probably just as sad as a lot of people and just as hurt, and also a lot better at covering it up.
Saturday, January 17, 2009
Censored
This piece is a little weird for me, a little different. It is the first piece of writing that I have ever held back from posting. I actually wrote it on new years eve night, I was drunk and hardly remember typing it out. I pride myself on my honesty and openness, but for some reason I censored myself from posting. It's interesting to me because the subject matter is based on me from someone elses point of view. It isn't that the person of who's point of view it is from means so much to me that I couldn't possibly let them know, but more so that I wouldn't want to hurt their feelings. With that said, I can only say that I have posted much more negative about people that have meant more to me. So, where does this switch over for me? Many of the people that read my blog know when things are about them. Some of them ask, some of them I drunkenly tell, and some of them don't care enough to read. All above is correct. Everyone sees what they want to see, so who is to say what is right and what is wrong. What actually happened and what didn't? I dissect moments and as everyone else, I sometimes get lost in the details and not the overall picture. With that said, I think the only appropriate title for this piece is "censored". Enjoy.
T
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
I'm going to tell him there is nothing else in there
I'm going to be uptight and make it all feel for him
I'm insecure and he can't know
I'm in forth grade and I'll make him hurt
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
That underwear sure makes him look smart
I bet he could change the world
But I'd never let him know
I'd never support such a thing
Something growing past me
I think I hate him
But I want him to grow
I think I hate him
But I don't partially want him to know
I think I want him to succeed
But I could never support that
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
I wonder if he has anything going on in there
I'll tell him he doesn't have much going on in there
I'll talk him down so it's me he answers too
I'll be the parent and I'll make him see
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
What is he doing over there
He can't be back there
He can't talk to her like that
I'll explain to him who he needs to be
How to please me
Attention
Separation
Who does he think he is
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
I'll tell him there's not much going on in there.
T
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
I'm going to tell him there is nothing else in there
I'm going to be uptight and make it all feel for him
I'm insecure and he can't know
I'm in forth grade and I'll make him hurt
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
That underwear sure makes him look smart
I bet he could change the world
But I'd never let him know
I'd never support such a thing
Something growing past me
I think I hate him
But I want him to grow
I think I hate him
But I don't partially want him to know
I think I want him to succeed
But I could never support that
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
I wonder if he has anything going on in there
I'll tell him he doesn't have much going on in there
I'll talk him down so it's me he answers too
I'll be the parent and I'll make him see
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
What is he doing over there
He can't be back there
He can't talk to her like that
I'll explain to him who he needs to be
How to please me
Attention
Separation
Who does he think he is
Such a pretty boy
Such pretty hair
I'll tell him there's not much going on in there.
Friday, January 16, 2009
SEX SEX SEX
SEX
Sex is somewhat of a mystery to me. Don’t get me wrong, I get it (so to speak). But I don’t understand this silent box that it seems to be held in. Growing up sex was hardly ever spoken about in my house, and when it was, it was very hush hush. I consider myself to have been risen in a semi-normal household, so I can only assume that it was quiet in others as well. I never received a direct informative conversation about sex. I took sex education in 5th grade and I think at that point perhaps I was told if I had any questions I could ask. Hmmm… I don’t think in 5th grade you should really be asking your child to bring up sex, its kind of the parents job to make sure they are informed. I think Scott Biao was the teacher in the tapes we watched. That might be the only thing I remember about sex education, oh, that and learning about circumcision. Which I didn’t understand at all, I definitely asked my mom if I were circumcised. I didn’t understand the concept and to think that I had part of my penis cut off was just unfathomable. Yes, I am a white Midwest boy and my parents are Christian, I am cut.
The first time I had sex I was 15, and I thought I was in love. We had been “dating” for a while, 6 months maybe, and afterwards I just remember thinking, “oh… so that was sex…” I think in my head I honestly expected to see fireworks and hear birds sing, or something else. I think I had more fun the first time I smoked weed to be honest. And I’m positive that being stoned lasted a lot longer. Not to bash my ex, I mean we were 15, what do you expect? I grew up in a household where I had it in my head that I would only have sex with one person my entire life, yes; I threw that out the window a long time ago. Then for the next few years I only slept with people I thought I was in love with. The next person I dated for close to 6 months, and then I dated someone for 2 ½ years. So at 21, I had only had sex with 3 people. Thank God, it got better and I became more comfortable with myself and trusted everyone I choose to engage in sex with.
SEX IS NOT LIKE PORN!
I don’t think I can articulate that well enough. SEX IS NOT LIKE PORN. Actually, porn isn’t even like porn. Porn is like any other film process where there are cuts and takes and blah blah blah. Perhaps amateur porn is like real sex, and if you’ve ever seen that, you know it’s just as awkward as real sex can be. I can’t blame porn for anything, yes, it does give you a false sense of what sex and love is supposed to be like, but it is also something that pretty much everyone watches and all normal people enjoy. Would I ever make porn, no way. But I don’t think there is anything wrong with it. I actually know a lot of people that have done porn, and most of them describe it as a time where they needed money or wanted to try it, or just thought why not. I remember having dinner with someone and we were talking about porn and how he or she gets paid so little in general. Pretty much you have to be someone like Jenna Jameson to make a lot of money in the industry and the average pay for a film is something like 500. To my surprise his response was something along the lines of, “oh really, 500? I thought it was less then that. Maybe I would do it?” At that point I choked on my food a bit and then shrugged it off.
WHEN SEX IS THE BEST
It’s corny and it’s so cliché, but sex is the best when you actually care about the other person. This seems like an obvious response, but I speak from experience. I have had sex with people I didn’t care about at all, people that I just wanted to prove I could have, that I wanted to want me, at times when I’ve just not wanted to be alone, horny, or just bored. I’ve had sex when I’ve been happy, depressed and basically all over the board. I’ve had great sex with people that I care deeply about but never dated, people I’ve dated, and great sex with people I wanted nothing more to do with then to have sex with. I’ve also had bad sex in all of these circumstances as well. I’ve had bad sex with someone I thought I loved, someone I hated, someone I hardly knew, someone I’ve known my entire life, and someone I think I knew better then I ever knew myself. And yes, all of this safe sex. Although that sounds like a ton of people, lots of people fall into multiple categories and I don’t necessarily think that the number of people you have sex with matters. Yes, I think there is something special in having sex with only people you care about and want to be in love with, but I can also tell the complete difference in having sex with someone you care about and someone you don’t. And I prefer it with someone I am falling in love with. The moments where you just want to touch every inch of their skin, feel their lips on every inch of your body. When their smells engulfs you, and you are lost in the sheets.
SEX IS BEAUTIFUL
I think sex can be beautiful and I wish that people talked about the beauty of it more. Everyone talks about the dynamics, what goes where and who does what. But no one ever talks about how it should feel. No one ever sets you down and talks to you about the butterflies, about your eyes rolling back in your head, the ecstasy of the simply touch. I think you can tell exactly how someone will be in bed by how they kiss. Kissing in the most important thing in the world. An awkward first kiss I think is usually a sign of something not connecting. I don’t believe in bad kissers, I believe in two people not connecting. Although, it is the worst thing in the world when you pull away and your face is covered in spit, I mean, come on, really? Like who does that? I would love to know who said, “You have to lick their face, rub your tongue all over it.” Seriously, I’ve had spit on my nose before and I’m just like. “What the fuck just happened?” Of course, this is a silent thought; I’m not that much of a bitch, all the time.
For a couple years in my early 20’s I slept with a lot of people, I was searching for something. I was searching for a feeling that I didn’t have a name for, for a feeling that I hadn’t experienced. For something that I can’t name. It’s very hard to find something when you have no idea what you are looking for. And then you think you haven’t found it, so you move on. Lets just say this is normal, I like to believe I’m not a total slut. I’m sure to some, I probably am, but I know a hell of a lot more people that would say I’m not. I try to always have the best intentions, but sometimes you have to trip and make mistakes to learn. I don’t regret anything I’ve done, I’ve just made an effort to learn from it all.
CONCLUSION
I’m not sure why I feel the need to throw this all out there, but I do. I think sex is tip toed around and then people become misinformed. I wish parents talked to their kids about sex, and I wish kids would feel ok asking questions. I think sex is brought up as a fantasy with no realism. I think all too often people are just searching for things that don’t exist, or that already exist within themselves. Everyone has the power to feel amazing alone, easier said then done, I know. I know this first hand in more ways that I can even begin to explain. Aloneness is something that I know I’m not the only one that has trouble and struggles with the concept of. I can be in a room of 100 people and feel alone, I can be in my apartment alone and feel alone, and I can lie in bed next to someone and feel alone. But I can do exactly the opposite as well.
Kiss all the frogs I say, kiss everyone you can. Because you never what a kiss will turn into and sometimes frogs surprise you. Sometimes you never know what you can have because you never try. And have sex. Have beautiful, wonderful, emotional sex. I feel like I need to throw in have safe sex, but I assume that is a given, or at least it should be.
XO,
T
Sex is somewhat of a mystery to me. Don’t get me wrong, I get it (so to speak). But I don’t understand this silent box that it seems to be held in. Growing up sex was hardly ever spoken about in my house, and when it was, it was very hush hush. I consider myself to have been risen in a semi-normal household, so I can only assume that it was quiet in others as well. I never received a direct informative conversation about sex. I took sex education in 5th grade and I think at that point perhaps I was told if I had any questions I could ask. Hmmm… I don’t think in 5th grade you should really be asking your child to bring up sex, its kind of the parents job to make sure they are informed. I think Scott Biao was the teacher in the tapes we watched. That might be the only thing I remember about sex education, oh, that and learning about circumcision. Which I didn’t understand at all, I definitely asked my mom if I were circumcised. I didn’t understand the concept and to think that I had part of my penis cut off was just unfathomable. Yes, I am a white Midwest boy and my parents are Christian, I am cut.
The first time I had sex I was 15, and I thought I was in love. We had been “dating” for a while, 6 months maybe, and afterwards I just remember thinking, “oh… so that was sex…” I think in my head I honestly expected to see fireworks and hear birds sing, or something else. I think I had more fun the first time I smoked weed to be honest. And I’m positive that being stoned lasted a lot longer. Not to bash my ex, I mean we were 15, what do you expect? I grew up in a household where I had it in my head that I would only have sex with one person my entire life, yes; I threw that out the window a long time ago. Then for the next few years I only slept with people I thought I was in love with. The next person I dated for close to 6 months, and then I dated someone for 2 ½ years. So at 21, I had only had sex with 3 people. Thank God, it got better and I became more comfortable with myself and trusted everyone I choose to engage in sex with.
SEX IS NOT LIKE PORN!
I don’t think I can articulate that well enough. SEX IS NOT LIKE PORN. Actually, porn isn’t even like porn. Porn is like any other film process where there are cuts and takes and blah blah blah. Perhaps amateur porn is like real sex, and if you’ve ever seen that, you know it’s just as awkward as real sex can be. I can’t blame porn for anything, yes, it does give you a false sense of what sex and love is supposed to be like, but it is also something that pretty much everyone watches and all normal people enjoy. Would I ever make porn, no way. But I don’t think there is anything wrong with it. I actually know a lot of people that have done porn, and most of them describe it as a time where they needed money or wanted to try it, or just thought why not. I remember having dinner with someone and we were talking about porn and how he or she gets paid so little in general. Pretty much you have to be someone like Jenna Jameson to make a lot of money in the industry and the average pay for a film is something like 500. To my surprise his response was something along the lines of, “oh really, 500? I thought it was less then that. Maybe I would do it?” At that point I choked on my food a bit and then shrugged it off.
WHEN SEX IS THE BEST
It’s corny and it’s so cliché, but sex is the best when you actually care about the other person. This seems like an obvious response, but I speak from experience. I have had sex with people I didn’t care about at all, people that I just wanted to prove I could have, that I wanted to want me, at times when I’ve just not wanted to be alone, horny, or just bored. I’ve had sex when I’ve been happy, depressed and basically all over the board. I’ve had great sex with people that I care deeply about but never dated, people I’ve dated, and great sex with people I wanted nothing more to do with then to have sex with. I’ve also had bad sex in all of these circumstances as well. I’ve had bad sex with someone I thought I loved, someone I hated, someone I hardly knew, someone I’ve known my entire life, and someone I think I knew better then I ever knew myself. And yes, all of this safe sex. Although that sounds like a ton of people, lots of people fall into multiple categories and I don’t necessarily think that the number of people you have sex with matters. Yes, I think there is something special in having sex with only people you care about and want to be in love with, but I can also tell the complete difference in having sex with someone you care about and someone you don’t. And I prefer it with someone I am falling in love with. The moments where you just want to touch every inch of their skin, feel their lips on every inch of your body. When their smells engulfs you, and you are lost in the sheets.
SEX IS BEAUTIFUL
I think sex can be beautiful and I wish that people talked about the beauty of it more. Everyone talks about the dynamics, what goes where and who does what. But no one ever talks about how it should feel. No one ever sets you down and talks to you about the butterflies, about your eyes rolling back in your head, the ecstasy of the simply touch. I think you can tell exactly how someone will be in bed by how they kiss. Kissing in the most important thing in the world. An awkward first kiss I think is usually a sign of something not connecting. I don’t believe in bad kissers, I believe in two people not connecting. Although, it is the worst thing in the world when you pull away and your face is covered in spit, I mean, come on, really? Like who does that? I would love to know who said, “You have to lick their face, rub your tongue all over it.” Seriously, I’ve had spit on my nose before and I’m just like. “What the fuck just happened?” Of course, this is a silent thought; I’m not that much of a bitch, all the time.
For a couple years in my early 20’s I slept with a lot of people, I was searching for something. I was searching for a feeling that I didn’t have a name for, for a feeling that I hadn’t experienced. For something that I can’t name. It’s very hard to find something when you have no idea what you are looking for. And then you think you haven’t found it, so you move on. Lets just say this is normal, I like to believe I’m not a total slut. I’m sure to some, I probably am, but I know a hell of a lot more people that would say I’m not. I try to always have the best intentions, but sometimes you have to trip and make mistakes to learn. I don’t regret anything I’ve done, I’ve just made an effort to learn from it all.
CONCLUSION
I’m not sure why I feel the need to throw this all out there, but I do. I think sex is tip toed around and then people become misinformed. I wish parents talked to their kids about sex, and I wish kids would feel ok asking questions. I think sex is brought up as a fantasy with no realism. I think all too often people are just searching for things that don’t exist, or that already exist within themselves. Everyone has the power to feel amazing alone, easier said then done, I know. I know this first hand in more ways that I can even begin to explain. Aloneness is something that I know I’m not the only one that has trouble and struggles with the concept of. I can be in a room of 100 people and feel alone, I can be in my apartment alone and feel alone, and I can lie in bed next to someone and feel alone. But I can do exactly the opposite as well.
Kiss all the frogs I say, kiss everyone you can. Because you never what a kiss will turn into and sometimes frogs surprise you. Sometimes you never know what you can have because you never try. And have sex. Have beautiful, wonderful, emotional sex. I feel like I need to throw in have safe sex, but I assume that is a given, or at least it should be.
XO,
T
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Favorite Post from 2008
So... I was trying to think of some clever way to talk about 2008 and everything it meant to me. I was thinking about making some huge resolution and sticking to it; telling a story from how in 8th grade a refused to make a resolution and got in an argument with one of my teacher; or making a list of everything that happened to me that I'm thankful did (mostly because for good or bad I grew from it).
Then I thought, "fuck it". I went back and re-read everything on my blog. And the post below sticks with me the most. I think mainly because I have a dark sense of humor and it makes me laugh. So to commemorate 2008 I am simply re-posting me favorite blog. If you haven't read it before, enjoy. If you have, suck it up and enjoy it again.
And Vomiting
"Sometimes I get so depressed that I can't get out of bed. I can't sleep, so I just twist and turn and think about everything in my life that sucks. I try to count sheep, but I can't focus on something so dull and stupid. I will hardly eat or sleep for days, and go get drunk to try and feel better. I always get sick and vomit my life out. Sometimes I stare at my puke and think about how lucky it is to have been able to get away from me."
Happy 2009 everyone. I hope it doesn't suck as much as 2008. ;-)
Then I thought, "fuck it". I went back and re-read everything on my blog. And the post below sticks with me the most. I think mainly because I have a dark sense of humor and it makes me laugh. So to commemorate 2008 I am simply re-posting me favorite blog. If you haven't read it before, enjoy. If you have, suck it up and enjoy it again.
And Vomiting
"Sometimes I get so depressed that I can't get out of bed. I can't sleep, so I just twist and turn and think about everything in my life that sucks. I try to count sheep, but I can't focus on something so dull and stupid. I will hardly eat or sleep for days, and go get drunk to try and feel better. I always get sick and vomit my life out. Sometimes I stare at my puke and think about how lucky it is to have been able to get away from me."
Happy 2009 everyone. I hope it doesn't suck as much as 2008. ;-)
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Muse
Muse
I wonder what you'd think
What you'd do
If you knew you've been my muse so frequently
Recently
In intently
And discontent me
Makes me wonder if anyone has ever wrote about me
Or tried to paint me out of there heart
Their mind
Kept me too long
Refused to say good-bye
You stressed your need to keep me open
Keep me wide
I wonder how many boys I've left crumbling in my path
My own self defeat
My empty promises
I have the ability to be just as destructive
Unnerved
Unthoughtful
Wise beyond my years
And distracted by the everyday tension that is life
I wonder what you'd think
What you'd do
If you knew you've been my muse so frequently
Recently
In intently
And discontent me
Makes me wonder if anyone has ever wrote about me
Or tried to paint me out of there heart
Their mind
Kept me too long
Refused to say good-bye
You stressed your need to keep me open
Keep me wide
I wonder how many boys I've left crumbling in my path
My own self defeat
My empty promises
I have the ability to be just as destructive
Unnerved
Unthoughtful
Wise beyond my years
And distracted by the everyday tension that is life
Sunday, January 4, 2009
No One in Common
No One in Common
I'm glad we know none of the same people
No one ever brings you up
Then I'm blindsided
Frozen
I don't know what I'd do if you walked in the room
I don't know how I'd respond of you said hi
If you hugged me
I can't imagine myself in your presence anymore
I've forgotten how it feels to kiss you
But I can't forget your tattoo
It's double meaning
I don't hate you
But I doubt I'll ever talk to you again
I'll never make that effort again
And I don't think you'll ever care enough to ever try yourself
So how can I know all this
Take it as fact
And still be caught
I think I'm more afraid of the silence then the truth
I may always wonder about you in the back of my mind
I remember you telling me about how they had cheated on you
And I remember thinking how impossible that would be for me
I couldn't imagine ever wanting a moment away from you
Or with someone else ever again
Maybe it's a good thing that things didn't go that far
How empty would I feel now if I had actually gotten that far with you
You can only miss what you didn't have for so long
Right?
I'm glad we know none of the same people
No one ever brings you up
But no one has to
I still bring you up enough to myself
I'm glad we know none of the same people
No one ever brings you up
Then I'm blindsided
Frozen
I don't know what I'd do if you walked in the room
I don't know how I'd respond of you said hi
If you hugged me
I can't imagine myself in your presence anymore
I've forgotten how it feels to kiss you
But I can't forget your tattoo
It's double meaning
I don't hate you
But I doubt I'll ever talk to you again
I'll never make that effort again
And I don't think you'll ever care enough to ever try yourself
So how can I know all this
Take it as fact
And still be caught
I think I'm more afraid of the silence then the truth
I may always wonder about you in the back of my mind
I remember you telling me about how they had cheated on you
And I remember thinking how impossible that would be for me
I couldn't imagine ever wanting a moment away from you
Or with someone else ever again
Maybe it's a good thing that things didn't go that far
How empty would I feel now if I had actually gotten that far with you
You can only miss what you didn't have for so long
Right?
I'm glad we know none of the same people
No one ever brings you up
But no one has to
I still bring you up enough to myself
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Again
Vulnerability
Why am I afraid of my vulnerability
What if I told you I cried
What if I said that sometimes I feel you haunt me
What if I let you know I actually cared
Why is that so bad
Why is it so unbearable
So funny
So crazy to think anyone ever gave a shit for you
So what if I bared my heart
So what if I wrapped myself too tightly
Clung too strongly
So what if I wanted to kiss you forever
Why is it so imaginable for you to think
To understand
Why can't you grasp the thought that someone ever loved you
Don't you know how many people would kill for someone to give a flying fuck
Why couldn't you let me love you
Why am I so terrified of my vulnerability
What if I told you I cried
And if I still picture you on my couch
Why does that have to mean I'm too pathetic to let you go
I Thought
I thought maybe you could help me make him melt away
I thought maybe you'd be the answer
But you're not even part of the question
The equasion
I thought maybe I could count a little less
Forget about it all
Surpass and demise
I thought maybe through you I could see something else
I was wrong
I thought maybe by now things might be different
I thought maybe I could dance you away
Away from you
I thought maybe with all the lights and all the smiling faces
The gifts and pressence of all the love
Drink and pictures
All the creativity and expansion
I thought maybe I were big enough
And controlled
Sometimes I feel so empty
I thought maybe that would have disappeared
So empty
And full
And alive
I thought maybe at this point I'd still feel all these things
But with you
I thought maybe
Just for a second
I thought maybe
I thought maybe
I just really, honestly, I thought maybe
Why am I afraid of my vulnerability
What if I told you I cried
What if I said that sometimes I feel you haunt me
What if I let you know I actually cared
Why is that so bad
Why is it so unbearable
So funny
So crazy to think anyone ever gave a shit for you
So what if I bared my heart
So what if I wrapped myself too tightly
Clung too strongly
So what if I wanted to kiss you forever
Why is it so imaginable for you to think
To understand
Why can't you grasp the thought that someone ever loved you
Don't you know how many people would kill for someone to give a flying fuck
Why couldn't you let me love you
Why am I so terrified of my vulnerability
What if I told you I cried
And if I still picture you on my couch
Why does that have to mean I'm too pathetic to let you go
I Thought
I thought maybe you could help me make him melt away
I thought maybe you'd be the answer
But you're not even part of the question
The equasion
I thought maybe I could count a little less
Forget about it all
Surpass and demise
I thought maybe through you I could see something else
I was wrong
I thought maybe by now things might be different
I thought maybe I could dance you away
Away from you
I thought maybe with all the lights and all the smiling faces
The gifts and pressence of all the love
Drink and pictures
All the creativity and expansion
I thought maybe I were big enough
And controlled
Sometimes I feel so empty
I thought maybe that would have disappeared
So empty
And full
And alive
I thought maybe at this point I'd still feel all these things
But with you
I thought maybe
Just for a second
I thought maybe
I thought maybe
I just really, honestly, I thought maybe
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