Old writing

I recently went on an excavation excursion to that failed time-tested social gathering of "myspace" and read my old blogs. During this jaunt I uncovered a treasure trove of lost thought and emotions . Even though the people and things masked by my, at best "illusive" and "concealing", style of writing have long since dissipated I decided to post one of them. enjoy.

"torn? "
Current mood:selfishly confused

feeling torn between two things that i am both without.

waiting at a cross road and having to choose a pathway but the roads only exist in a dream...a mirage. and with the morning i discover neither routes lay ahead.

left standing in a room with two locked doors to which i have foolishly gambled away the keys.

my heart lacks the luxury of choosing one door or the other. i closed and chained them both out of my own will and discretion...in doing so i unfairly wounded those on the other side without warning.

phantom urges and desires that have long past onward...
but they each return so frequently.

reaching across for something that is no longer there for me to embrace and fall back on. yet the lingering remnants of these connections feel as real and present as the earth beneath my feet.

i find myself questioning both

was one just a temporary replacement for the other? am i feeling the need to retrace steps to only fill a void?

i am not depressed. rather the word that comes closer but does not describe my state is "yearning". but for which door or road i am not sure.

and with these questions and statements i find again that i have not the keys nor ability to move towards an answer.

if i sound crazy its probably because i am.

Sometimes you can catch people just like you catch a bad cold. They sneak up on you when you're not focused and attack. Then, in what seems like a never ending effort to break you down, they just linger and linger. Leaving your body riddled sickness. Every corner aches to dispel the nasty little virus.
People like that need to be removed from your life. lol

a little faith and a lot of heart.

You understand the wind and you're friends with the rain.

Laughter is your heart.
Music and art are your breath.
Passion is your voice.
and vision is your soul.

In the still dark you know the secret words to illuminate the fireflies and the moon.

But so wild and free...you were the sand slipping through my fingers on the shore.
Never holding tight enough to take you in.

and with the first rising ray of sun over the horizon there is no you, only me

who are you?
where are you?

the muscle that makes us confess

The heart beats strong and heavy.
It remembers the moments our body and mind so quickly attempt to remove from their repertoire.
It has such ferocious strength; like nothing else known within the history of the human spirit.
It can force you to drive forward without fear all the while ignorant for the perilous journey towards the unknown.
It can give you the strength to stand when you have no legs, it can give you a melody to sing when you have no voice,
but at the same time just a mere pebble along the road can leave it shattered around you.


How it is able to keep you wishing, wanting and praying?

Such a strange creature living and breathing inside of you...hiding your deepest desires locked away.

i can feel it there now. beating. waiting. wondering.

its all been done

Every time I think of you I see things that slipped from my hands like sand through my fingers.

You have not one name and face, but several.

There are not many any reasons for me to turn my head and observe those landmarks which had been abandoned along the road, but none the less...I still do. I suppose for no other reason but nostalgia and nostalgia alone.

I think about them rarely, but when they surface in the corners of my mind they bring a soft pain to serve as a reminder. A reminder of mistakes.

And also as a reminder of triumph in the dark times.

I dare not say farewell to these scattered thoughts, events, and memories; for they are the fabric of which my life is woven. In whatever strange pattern they change and effect my soul...

Katie Holmes made me not "Get Happy"

So...hate me if you want but I HAD to get this out!!!!


For those of you who caught the results show for SYTYCD this week (being Thursday July 23rd) then you were given the pleasure, or the unfortunate chance, to watch Katie Holmes make a COMPLETE and TOTAL mockery out of all that is good in the eyes of the "stage".


I mean, really lady...
that was a very poor choice on the creative side of the show but....she was still totally awful!
Not only was the the song prerecorded in a studio, but her voice could not have withstood even the slightest bit more of filtering or editing. Her lip sync looked like a drag queen at Pulse on amateur night! And I'm going to stop now without even getting into her "dancing"...I think that display speaks for itself...


I know this was really harsh but it just frustrates me that she can be looked at and applauded for that...just because she is signing a check for a dance foundation...get real.


and one last thing....
in the interview Katie described her piece:
"this is sort of an homage to Judy Garland" ....BITCH Judy was ROLLING over in her grave!!! u dumped shit out an a classic Judy performance!


i leave you now to compare for yourselves.

Tending the Soul

Ground your roots deep within your heart and soul.
Feed them your deepest desires, thoughts and beliefs.
Let them lead you in the right direction, the one in which your heart finds peace and joy.

Allow your branches to stretch out to all walks of life. Let your leaves unfurl in the infinite breeze of time.

Leave your mark on everything and everyone you may come in contact with and let them leave a mark on you.

And if someone decides to trim a piece of you, bandage yourself and find the strength to to grow and move on.

Never allow yourself to stop growing toward the sky. The strength you need is already there within...all you need is to remember the power of learning and living.

Soak in the sunshine of the world around you and you will find endless possibilities.