enter the realm of my mind

they say the way to my stomach is to feed me divinity

but what does it take to find the way to my mind?

my mind is like a cake and not everyone can bake, so you see the issue here is how to gain exposure to the vulnerability that quickly manifests itself;

dawdling around aimlessly like a limping child –

and it cries out in starvation for contact and knowledge but will not let anybody in

the dilemma here is that there are carved out crevices that belong to those who hold pieces of my heart while my heart is an empty cavity that’s bound to erupt, implode, causing my rib cage to splinter me

but wanting to know and wanting to be known are two separate primal drives:

the first will help enhance the second, but first I need to take a second

to figure out where i need to lay my sheets and remove my shoes and undo my hair and feel a peaceful “home”

it’s not all linear, unlike what i was taught so i am in the middle of a journey with no end until the end of my journey leaves me dead


something inspiring for your boring day

An awesome friend of mine wrote a prosetry (which is just how I tell myself it’s like poetic prose, in that it’s not fluffed up with metaphors and similes and all the gross stuff I love to put into poems) and you should read it.

It’s wonderful to share in shared experiences. It was beautifully written and made me feel.


1 highways more beautiful (2016)

I always see the highways more beautiful, in my dreams
through my streams of tears, cold as ice

the lights of oncoming traffic glisten and freeze
into hypnotic streaks of halogen

downtown’s pollution silences the stars protests,
the concrete murmurs with pleasure [delight!]

it smells consistent, like tires at 55 mph
and tastes gritty, like an unplanned road trip

I always see the highways more beautiful in my dreams
through my stream of tears, cold as ice

Why you don’t condescend me

I don’t do too well with people, in general.

I have that super small bundle of friends that end up becoming long-term friends.

Well, apparently, I have issues with people whose names begin with the letter C, also? Some kind of trend here?

I made a joke once that, because of numerous encounters with people of similar names, I don’t get along with anybody named:
Brianna, Tess, Miranda, Christine (but Christina is OK), Britany (but only if it’s spelled that way), and other Elizabeths but only if they tend go by “Beth” (which is a lot of them, apparently?)

The list may continue to grow.

But, back to the point, I don’t do well with people, and I especially don’t do well with people who condescend me. I also am never too keen on people being incredibly chummy, being snark ass bitches (which is basically why I am friends with everybody I am friends with, but only because I’ve known them so long), and people who talk shit about A Christmas Story (because, goddammit, how can you just not love that silly Christmas movie?!)

So, C2 did that. All of that.

I don’t feel like I need to explain what “humor” or a “joke” is. It can be witty, it can be observational to the point it’s downright OBVIOUS (but in a funny way). Me? I’m sarcastic, I’m satirical. I don’t go for shock humor, I don’t use the R or N words or laugh at them (which, should be obvious what those are).


Apparently, whatever I did here was termed “reverse logic.” Which is was. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t a joke. Idioms are the pinnacle of any successful language, and are used by insanely successful people (such as myself). They are the most hilarious literary devices (almost a million times so than the hyperbole) [GET IT?].

So I posted this:

I know they say, “Close but no cigar,” but is the counter to that, “Devastatingly wrong; here’s a carton of Cubans”?

So C2 goes:

But you don’t get the cigar.

Like, I don’t know that? The result (I guess, let me know if you think otherwise), was me being condescended. My retaliation was sarcasm:


Then I got pissy, so Mister Fiance came to my rescue.


Orange T and I are close friends, so that’s why I reacted how I did. Ya see how that works? Then I eventually lost my mind.



So, she condescended me, I condescended her back. It was obvious she wasn’t going to get the joke (which there was little point other than word play) even with the help of my fantastic WRONG-CIGAR correlation list.

And then later that night, on another post, in another world, C2, had been buying a bunch of wigs for some reason. And I asked, “Why are you buying wigs?” And she goes, “Why are you asking so many questions?”

Why you gotta be a bitch your whole life?

I think my actual response was, “Why you gotta be such a snarky ass, coming at me the way you do? Shit.” But I can’t check, because I unfriended and then blocked her, and will keep her blocked for about a week, then let it go, so she can see how much happier I am that I’m not going out of my way to not like her.

Chummy bitchiness is something reserved for friends I’ve known long enough to not just uprightly be offended or taken aback by. She is not the type of person I could see myself being friends with. Nothing she posts has really any substance. She’s, as far as I’m concerned, privileged beyond her wildest imagination. It’s upsetting.

And who doesn’t like A Christmas Story?? Which she apparently told my friend, then sat through the last half (after arriving to the party late) laughing her ass off at it.

I’m too busy to dwell. I just thought this was funny. I am aware of how petty I’m being, but I am also aware I don’t need to even keep up appearances. She’s not my boss, or anything. Just a twerp. I doubt she’ll even notice I’m gone.

Then I spent the rest of the night cackling because this was posted on my FB:


loud introvert take 1

Since coming to the conclusion I was just a loud introvert (rather than being an extrovert) I have found peace in solitude but I’ve also found a stronger loneliness when I try to connect with people. Friends I have had for a while.

And with my aversion to change, I watch them all go about their lives. They don’t seem to acknowledge me or want anything to do with me. They do what we did together with their new friends.

In the end I just have Facebook friends. They can be my best friends who I genuinely want to keep in contact with or they can be people I just say Hello to now and then. But the worst part is coming back after a while thinking it will be like old times and it isn’t. It isn’t even a gentle change. It’s an entire new century of friendship and I haven’t been paying attention.

And as much as feeling like I’m losing people or that they are letting me go on Facebook, nothing can be worse than sitting in a room with somebody you’ve know for years and not know who you are relative to them.

But I like me. And I like the pace I grow in intellectually and being introduced to things that I might like or not like. I carry with me the weight of boundless tears. The older I get the harder it is to keep them back, surprisingly. I don’t even know how I had friends because I saw myself as such a cold person. There was a lot of help I’ve gotten since that made me realize that having a child that is like me, should not have been passed off as nothing.

With the holidays having ended, or just starting, I can’t seek solace in my family. And I tried. I really tried so hard to connect back with them but I can’t seem to do anything to break down the walls they suddenly put up. So I spent some holiday time with my friends and the rest of it I’ve been alone. And being alone is fine. When I want to be…

new tattoo

this is what happens when I am bored and have some extra spending money (which, three days later, turns out not to be extra spending money). Done by Dang at B-Cool tattoo and piercing. Here’s his tumblr. Mention me to him, if you’re in MN stop by.

It meant so much to me. It made me realize that what I did wasn’t completely purposeless. I can look down and this is what I see.

an arm tattoo that reads "come as you are" with a fleur de lis design.

a special message written to me from my French professor and adviser during my senior exit exam when I almost started crying because I had the ideas but not the words.