Pardon Me,

Whoa. I haven't blogged in a minute. Sorry about that, my dear readers. (All two of you?) I guess you can say I've been busy. But I bet you're just dying to know what's knew. So I'll make you a list.

1. With great sex comes pregnancy scares:

    None of them have been legit. I think it's just me being a little paranoid Christian girl. I keep going, "God has got to get back at me at some point, right?

2. Sex makes you happy?:

    It does. For a while. But then it just drives me mad. I can smell it, taste it. I'm always longing for more. The touch of his hands. His sent. The taste of his lips on mine. The warmth that comes from body on body. The tenderness after. I think that's the best part. Crawling into his lap after and going to sleep to the sound of his deep, even breathing.

3. I will always be royally fucked up:

    Depression. Thoughts of cutting. The urge to purge. It all resurfaces. I've cried EVERY DAY for the past two months. Am I ridiculous or what?

4. I quit my job:

    Well technically I'm taking a long vacation so I can play soccer for my schools team. I play right fullback and I dare say that I'm pretty badass. I miss the kiddies though. I can't wait to be a momma :)

5. Love is something that should come naturally. Relationships, however... Those you have to work on.

    I've definitely learned that first hand. Everyone sees Mark and I as this perfect couple, but we're far from it. No one sees the incredible about of work and tears that goes into the incredible union they witness. Behind the scenes, things get a little hostile. Mark is an asshole plenty of times, and I'm a bitch more often than not. But I think we love each other enough to stick it out. I think Markell Tishawn Turner could be the one.

Sorry Sam

Sure I'll dance with you now
But I won't be your girl.

Sure I like you
But not the way you want me to.

Harriet Robinson couldn't have said it better herself
Beauty is just as dangerous now as it was then.

What is the point of being pretty?
No one will like you for who you are.

This is why i stay away
I keep my own company.

Won't you be my friend?
Just my friend please.

Is this growing up?
What they call the real world?

Because I don't like it
I'd rather be young and innocent forever.

Won't you be my friend?
My friend to love forever?

But that will not happen
Because you will always be wanting more.

And i don't want to fall in love.

La vie en Rose

when he takes me in his arms
and speaks to me softly
I see life as rosy
he tells me words of love
everyday words
and it makes me feel
he came into my heart
a piece of happiness
for which I know the cause
He is for me, I am for him, in this life
he told me that - swore it for life
and as soon as I see him
I feel my heart beating

nights of love, never ending
Much joy which takes over
troubles, sadness, phrases
happy, happy to die

my eyes look down when he looks at me
I only see his mouth when he laughs
this is the portrait "as is"
of the man I belong to.
-Edith Piaf

Looovey dooovey dovey dove

Ah first love
HOW ILL I TREATED YOU!!!!
I thought I loved you
YOU HEAR ME?? I THOUGHT I LOVED YOU!!!
And blamed you for it
Your STUPID confused crooked smile
Never Understanding
My confusion.
Why did we try so hard?
To fund a dying cause?
There was much argument
No peaceful resignation.
Never fully trusting again
Always wary and weary of being wary.
Never trusting again
Never trusting
First love
Only love
Thanks alot
YOU JERKFACE
ITS ALL YOUR FAULT THAT I'M SO SCREWED UP AND CONFUSED NOW
I AM EMOTIONALLY SCARRED BECAUSE OF YOU.
AND YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST WALTZ UP AND HAND ME
MY BIBLE
MY HOLY BIBLE!!!
AS IF YOU ARE DOING ME A FAVOR
I COULDVE GOTTEN IT MYSELF THANKS
DONT TRY AND HELP ME
IM FINE WITHOUT YOU
AND I DONT LIKE YOUR PERSONALITY ANYWAY
I love your poetic romantic personality
but that side of you has disappeared
i love you sean
YOU HEAR ME? I LOVE YOU
I just hate the person you have become.

I feel it coming
That terrible sensation
The left side of my lips twitch
And i feel the flood behind my eyes preparing to break through
Don't cry don't cry don't cry don't cry
Don't be a wimp
This is idiotic
Don't give them the pleasure of seeing your tears
Ok breathe slowly
NO! devilish little things
The silvery drops slope down my face
Revealing my weakness
I will them to stop but they keep coming
I am a rock
I am an Island
Because a rock feels no pain
And an Island never cries

Good Morning, Joe

Hey there sweet thing
Roll over, it's morning
Wake me up with that sensual kiss
Give me what I really miss.
Let your flavor linger on my lips.
Pure skill rousing in me
The ability to cope emotionally.
Your love is my drug
Can't get enough
Even though you kill me
Give it to me rough.
Lowsy nights
And drowsy mornings.
All for one touch
That leaves me moaning.

Love Seat

She sits there all alone

All alone on a loveseat

Her mind isn't made known

A psychosis impossible to treat

I say what can YOU say

That hasn't been said?

"Why don't we pray?"
But can prayer help a mind that is already dead?

What is a loveseat without love?

What is a seat without someone to sit in it?

What we do is lie low and hide from humanity's shove

While those around you babble without any wit.

You sit there so smug

With your sweet little smile

A sugary little mug

Full of your deceitful wiles

Why try helping the poor

When you turn a blind eye to those around you

Thinking it will fill you up more

But that is nothing new.

--

but i love dumplings more

One Day

One day I hope that this will be over.
That we can coexist
And speak of the love we once shared.
Maybe you'll eventually look back and remember
That it wasn't always like this,
That there was once something there.
Maybe get past the hurt
And see the love that came first.
Maybe look through me,
And really see
I couldn't be so foul
If you once loved me.

.

I don't want to be an annoying white girl.
I don't want to be sucked in by every guy that talks of love.
I don't want to be who you want me to be.
I don't want to have a personality pre-made for me.
I don't know who I am yet.
But I know what I want.
I want to make a difference in the world.
Do something that will change peoples lives.
I want to be real with people.
To speak my mind without having it thrown back in my face or ignored.
I want every word i say to mean something.
Not just useless banter used to make yourself look clever.
I want to be real I want to be real I want to be real.
I don't want to be a plastic doll like the rest of you.
Waiting to be positioned in the shop window.
I know I have to try.
I can't just sit here restlessly.
But I will.
I will sit here with my mouth shut and my hands tied behind my back.
Waiting.

Mark

There's something about Mark
That makes everything right.
There's something about his eyes
That on my heart shed light.
There's something in his smile
That makes the stars align.
There's something in his voice,
And the way his hands hold mine
That makes me giggle and wonder
How I've lived without him all this time.
Some say we're too young to fall in love.
Maybe, but I don't give uh!

What To Say

Black Knight
Oh night cannot make slumber
The chill of that sight
My heart's loud thunder.

Dark weather
Oh whether I cry or bawl
You remain yet never
In my heart does rain fall.

I Love the Ones That Judge Me

I have privacy issues.
I don't let my boyfriend go through my phone.
Neither do I let Mani.
It's just out of the question. So why then do I post all my lovely almost sexual experiences online for all the world to see? Because all the world does not know me. It doesn't matter what they think. Just that SOMEONE reads. Listens. Attempts to understand.

What sucks is when friends read my posts.
And tell other "friends"
And have a lovely party of self-righteousness
Talking about how what I do is wrong.
And how their worried about me.
They tell other "friends".
And no one has the big boy balls to say something about it.
No.
They tell other "friends".
They don't listen.
They don't try to understand.
No.
They tell other "friends".
Maybe I need less judgy friends?

plain and simple

You wish life could be that way, everything written out for you
But that's not how God made it
We have to make our own decisions
And that is how we grow up
By deciding for ourselves
Saying this is what i think
And I am going to stick by it
Its really hard for me to know what i think
When everyone around me is telling me what to think
Its hard to have your own opinion
When all of their's are being jammed into
Your head all at once
And it's like no one listens no one cares
And then they'll yell at me for saying that.

My Struggle

I hold so much promise, it's crazy.
I am so driven no one can stop me.
No one except the one that I am.
No one hinders me like I can.

My decisions can make or break
This knowledge causes my will to quake.
I tremble under the weight of my ambition.
I stumble, but am steadfast in my mission.

I will be
Lovely.
Fierce.
Successful.

I will not
Fear.
Retreat.
Crumble.

For I know that with each breath
God provides strength to take the rest.
This battle is not mine, but the Lord's.
This depression will one day yield to His sword.

Pretty 4.0

So here's the thing... We all want to be "pretty". It's inescapable. But we should watch our definition of pretty. At the end of the day it doesn't matter how much makeup we wear, how much are clothes cost, how our hair is done, as long as we're okay with who we are. Here are the lyrics to one of my favorite songs, Unpretty by TLC:

"I wish I could tie you up in my shoes

Make you feel unpretty, too.

I was told I was beautiful,

But what does that mean to you?

Look into the mirror who's inside there?

The one with the long hair.

Same old me again today.

My outsides look cool. My insides are blue.

Every time I think I'm through, it's because of you.

I've tried different ways, but it's all the same.

At the end of the day I have myself to blame.

I'm just trippin.

You can buy your hair if it won't grow.

You can fix your nose if he says so.

You can buy all the makeup that MAC can make,

But if you can't look inside you,

Find out who am I to

Be in a position to make me feel so damned

Unpretty.

Never insecure until I met you,

Now I'm bein' stupid.

I used to be so cute to me

Just a little bit skinny.

Why do I look to all these things

To keep you happy?

Maybe get rid of you

And then I'll get back to me."

FAIL

The sensation that stems from being so completely bare in front of someone is one that borders on spiritual. Not magical like in the movies, but special. And real. It requires the shelving of masks and insecurities for the gain of a greater purpose. I completely underestimated the gravity of being so completely naked--physically and emotionally... Cuz when the clothes are shed, so are all the defense mechanisms. It was total bliss, until the pain. Completely unimagined: warm; soft, yet hard. (Shy giggle)

I stared at the god before me, muscles rippling, eyes hooded. Entered. Just a bit. Shit. Something's missing. He stood. I'm so easily read, my face whispered, Don't leave, to his spirit. Out loud he reassured: It's okay, we need Protection. That annoying hindering thing. Plastic barrier. Takes away some of the softness and warmth. I wanna ask him, BEG him to take it off, but I will not be a statistic. I will not get my ass kicked. I will not subject us both to screaming pooping joyous torture. And then he was back. He slowly inched inside. I closed my eyes, and tried to will the pain away. I would not ruin this. But it was too much.

Booboo, are you sure you're okay?

Mmhmm.

No, you're not. You look like you want to die.

Just... Go slower.

(He began to move again an then I really did want to die.)

Ouch! Fuck. Can you...

Stop? Of course. (Kiss.)

Sorry.

It's fine, Booboo. Are you okay?

Mmhmm.

(Kiss.) You sure?

Yes. I really am sorry.

Don't apologize. (Kiss.) I'd rather stop than hurt you. (Kiss.) What's that look for?

I really am sorry.

Stop. You okay?

Stop asking me that! I'm fine!

Sorry.

Don't apologize, you didn't do anything.

(And then I did the only logical thing to do. I snuggled up into him, hid my face in his chest.)

Are you hiding from me?

Yes.

So yah, that's how my Day Before Thanksgiving went. I suppose it wasn't a TOTAL fail. It was still fun, cute, sweet. After that we got dressed, and watched the Amanda Show with his little brother. And did A LOT of laughing and tickling and talking and HAND HOLDING! Like I said, it was cute.

But I suppose it doesn't change the fact that I'm a colossal slut-muffin. Oh well.

Pretty 3.0

Make pretty or attractive: "she'll be all prettied up in an hour".

Why do we have to get prettied up? Why cant we be liked for who we are without the makeup and creams and makeovers... Make-to create. Over-to cover up whats underneath.

Adjective:

Attractive in a delicate way without being beautiful.

Sure you're pretty, but you're not BEAUTIFUL. There is 

always something higher that we want after we get what we thought we wanted.

Adverb:

To a moderately high degree; fairly: "He looked pretty fit for his age".

So for your age you have to look a certain way? "Young Looking" is the best?

Noun:

An attractive thing, typically a pleasing but unnecessary accessory:

 "He buys her lots of pretties—rings and things".

Synonyms:
adjective. nice - handsome - beautiful - fine - lovely - fair

Pleasing by delicacy or grace

b : having conventionally accepted elements of beauty

c : appearing or sounding pleasant or nice but lacking strength, force, manliness, purpose, or intensity 

a : miserable, terrible (a pretty mess you've gotten us into)

Pretty

can mean miserable and terrible. I think that is the best definition.

Pretty 2.0

What the hell is
Pretty?
Who is considered
Pretty?
Why?
Does it really matter?

"Sometimes the prettiest people
Do the ugliest things."

And dangerous things happen
When he puts on his best face and says, You're so
Pretty.

You're so beautiful, baby.

(Translation:
Lemme get in them pants,
Pretty
Lady.)

Touch

Explanation post to follow... Eventually.

It wasn't perfect
Or magical.
I think magical describes something fake.
But it was amazing,
Special.
So real that it bordered on
Other-worldly...
Spiritual, if you will.
A stripping of lies
And of masks.
Because once clothes are shed
Insecurities follow closely after.

All Little Attention Whores

Love me.
Like me.
Like me.
Love me.
Why can't I make you?
Stay.
Feel this way.
Want me the way
I want you.
A whole helluva lot
Even though
I don't know you.
Probably wouldn't like you
If I did.
I'm fickle.
Have no idea
What I want.
Except attention.
Attention.
Give it to me.

It's natural to want attention, but not healthy.