Tag Archives: Childhood


pop 10

It doesn’t matter how many bodies fill up the spaces around me
My brain doesn’t brim with poppies, it doesn’t brim with poppies
It never mattered if I had love or bask in it
I don’t recall asking for this:  Planet earth and masking business
It never mattered how many accomplishments I’ve chased
How many lovers I taste or how many thoughts were displaced
All those hugs I received, all those pets peeved
All the hands I’ve ever held, all those black magic spells
All the apartments I’ve entered, all those heartless tempers
I grew up without a mother’s love created by the slough stuff
I grew up without a childhood – long lived misunderstood!
I grew up without a future, without dreams of stupor
And other people talk about advantages
And life is what you make it with or without bandages
And others go on to say you were born in America
As if you couldn’t somehow be at a disadvantage?
But maybe I’m destined to feel nothing
Or destined to keep reaching and running for the invisible
Maybe I’m destined to self-destruct based on principle 
Or maybe I’m destined to be alone listening
To sad-core, humming, ever so lovely, to the ugly



Unoccupied yet Occupied


The internal struggle is real. So I believe, within my struggle. For months I’ve been battling and fighting and influencing and along the way I’ve made some mistakes all the while raising my head as lofty as the Statue of Liberty. Only to get fired by the place in which I worked for over 5 years. It’s finalized and it’s severed and within it’s severance I’ve learned many different things to the parts of a story.

Like for one, being in denial of how one really feels about any given situation. How does one center themselves in the midst of what they truly don’t want to consider because they suppose that actually feeling within the moment will turn to perpetual weakness? Or how much of what we do in the present and future stems from our past childhoods? For example: I cringe at unfairness and this is derived from being treated unfairly as a child.

Moving on if you follow the series of my thoughts: Perhaps it’s better and clever to give an oath to being silent and perform character assassination rather than stand up with pride on your side and give your two cents on how to resolve operations or how to fix the unfairness in the face of favoritism and being human?

It seems that silence is golden and silence is taken more seriously and silence is safe and silence means that one day when you finally decide to speak up that somebody may listen to you attentively with one head tilted to the right the way they used to when they stopped listening because you’ve opened your mouth too much but only because it was encouraged. But perhaps they encouraged for manipulative reasons?

Or maybe it’s ridiculous to believe that an idealist can be practical in the world of business and where realism is concern, that there isn’t a place for such majestic and honest principles?

Perhaps it’s better to turn the other way and remain silent and follow the herd because being a leader means standing alone and standing alone means everyone is against you at a certain point in time because they lack the courage you have because they don’t have a big bite or enough fight because they wouldn’t put their job on the line like you would.

All this is why I’ve been fired.


Family, Exposure & Monogamy

Somewhere between the age of twenty-nine and thirty I’ve learned to stop being super strong mentally and to stop being selfish when it comes to people who may not love me in the way common people hold on to their ideal definition of what it’s like to be family.  But things are what they are.  Many times it’s better if one understood sooner than later:  It’s okay to cutoff the systematic approach of over-complicating your life just because you FEEL it’s important or at the very least are filled with bottomless need of something (anything) to continually complain about because it consists of your selfishness and attachment to life.

The thing that bugs me out is how I had the type of childhood where I couldn’t wait to grow the fuck up.  So by the time I made it out my teenage years I ran away from my family as far as I fucking could hoping to deny who, what and where I came from.  (But never to the extent of my pathological liar brother who’s so shameful he tells everyone he’s from Greece.)  At first it was spectacular and I forgot somebody’s sperm and somebody’s egg created me.  In the middle of my twenties I had the hardest time forgiving my family when it was me I needed to forgive.  FUCK THEM!

Than some time last year until the present I realized just how much I’ve missed out on everybody else’s life like my one cousin who was shot 7 times by another man’s envy yet survived somehow.  Or how my other cousin has now been diagnosed with being bipolar and schizophrenic ever since he spaced the fuck out and shat in the living room of his house and started to finger-paint.  Then came my grandfather’s multiple heart attacks and aunt’s breast cancer.

Still what throws me for the biggest loop is catching up with my family brings me back to the thought of “Holy shit!  So I’m REALLY am a part of this dysfunctional family” especially when we started to share sex stories.  My aunt M (scratch that!) everyone in my family talks openly about sex in a way that is just like breathing air along with casual humor.

She starts out by saying how her last relationship was horrible and had to end it because the guy didn’t know how to fuck let alone eat pussy.  Than my mother chimed in with, “Why didn’t you teach him?”  “Aye no!  I don’t like teaching.”  I butted in, patted my mother on the back with a chuckle and said, “Well on my end it must be genetics.”  We all laughed, until my mother killed it by saying “My daughter must be the same good lover as me.”  ><

I can’t deny what lacks or breeds within me.  I’m bound by blood and shit.  Yeah, I know a lot of everything happens to be about exposure, and of course, about the very things we frequently collect such as our moral codes.  And I’m not sure, entirely why, I feel like speaking about this, except for the fact that it’s in the forefront of my mind but:  Monogamy.

Some people believe in it and others don’t.  Either way I believe it stems (typically and/or sometimes) from our introduction at home and no matter how anybody makes it seem Monogamy is a Personal Choice (and unnatural ;)).  Monogamy and I don’t get along simply because I look at this word and the baggage it comes with as a matter of possession, not of love or kindness.  And growing up I didn’t have anyone to help me look at it otherwise (nor do I want to at this point in time :D).

In my family, every single person I’m aware of cheats on their partner, spouse, lover, boyfriend, girlfriend with someone at some point of their lives whether they believed they had a good reason for it or not.  The other day I was telling my nonexclusive partner once again:  How I rather be in an open-relationship than the closed one we used to share for the thousand time.   And I used the story my aunt M told everyone in the kitchen to prove the point of why I feel I am the way that I am:  Her son (who’s her favorite by the way) calls her daily on the phone to speak about how he met someone (WHO IS NOT HIS WIFE) who has the fattest ass.

M never mentioned whether he’s already being unfaithful but goes on to say, “I can’t tell him he shouldn’t cheat or mess around with other girls.  He’s just twenty-three years old and married young with an 8-month year old baby.  He needs to experience and have his adventures.  But I tell him he has to delete all the text messages he sends out and receives quickly because his wife who’s already insecure about herself will leave him and she’ll never let me see my grandson again..especially if she found out I was giving him this kind of advice.”

I always felt that before you get into a “closed” relationship with anyone you should learn as much as possible about where their family comes from and what their core values are and what their culture reflects and yada yada yada.  Example:  I dated a Chinese man years ago and never knew I was dating an entire custom so deep that behind my back his toxic family would set him up on dinner dates with Chinese women for an arrange marriage in the near future.

Another important factor is just how great or poor their parenting skills are in terms of these great examples that are not to be taken likely and based on true stories:  Are they the kind of parents to help their children get away with actual murder, such as allowing their son/daughter to pass HIV to their current partner even though the entire family knows about it?  Or are they the type of parents who want the best for their children and actually guide them slightly into leading a fulfilling life with their girlfriend/boyfriend, but have enough decency to never personally conflict their own lives?

Lastly, no matter how much your husband/boyfriend or wife/girlfriend claims to not get along with their parents (like me!) children (no matter how old we become) tend to shadow their first little-known role-models.  It’s hard to be something we aren’t when we primarily are created in our parents image (or whoever we grew up with).  To avoid a situation like the story above (in a sense) it helps to know where your partner came/comes from because (more than likely – unless they experienced a traumatic experience that takes them completely out from who they were) that’s where they’re heading.  Unless again, you come from my family and it’s unfaithful exposure where it’s AUTOMATICALLY AND LITERALLY ENCOURAGED TO HAVE AN AFFAIR/CHEAT.

I’m not saying I condone awful behavior like cheating on your significant other and hope the secrets you’re busy covering up won’t catch up to you (because they will).  What I am saying is I have an understanding and a knack for why people decide to make the personal choice of being mindfully faithless according to the in’s and out’s of my family.  Key word:  Exposure.

Thoughts are welcome.


Lost Sober

It’s crazy.

I mean, I know quite a few causes as to why I feel fucked in my head.  I’m this way and that way about everything.  I’m hot and cold like that song I heard on the radio.  I’m high and low just like a manic depressive or like the blood of my whorish mother.  But the subject at hand, well, I don’t know where to pinpoint it.  So I’m just going to let it hang out like my breasts once I’m settled in at home from a long day and unwind as if I were in character mode and talk to my imaginary audience.  Warning: I’m going to talk A LOT of shit!

You know how people claim nowadays it’s hard to Date?  Well, I think so, in a way.  But in a way, I think it’s always been the way it’s always been.  If anything it’s just bare boned for everyone to see.  What wasn’t allowed is allowed now.  Some men think it’s cute nowadays to not own up to their own responsibility of Chivalry.  As some women believe it’s adorable to dress up like Hookers yet act exactly as men in devaluing themselves by having sex with the entire world.  Adults should know better.  And Yes.  I blame the majority of adults.  Can’t blame the kids for they take after what they’re exposed to.

But what is it that consumes us stupidly?  During our teenage years one digests sexual experiences for better or for worse.  Things even happen at a snail’s pace.  And sometimes as teenagers we’re okay with this.  Sometimes we’re overwhelmed.  Sometimes we dwell and submit to a sex life done completely out of pleasure, pity, fun, selfishness, charity or low self-esteem, among others.  But as we mature (or so we think?), or receive the title “adult”..what gives us the right to believe that sex becomes nothing but a mad dash race to the finish line?  Why do we know our significant partners bodies so well, but find our partners to be stranger than strange on their value and belief systems?

I like to think as humans we like to throw ourselves against the current because in actuality we like to be considered fuck ups.  So we don’t have to find the courage to live with the responsibility that life is indeed what we make it.  It’s better to put no effort in happiness when happiness can change from moment to moment. Not to mention it’s a constant conscious effort to maintain one’s happiness.  If we’re always depressed we can say yes that was expected because I’m allowed to make any choice I want in the end.  It’s much easier to give up and live within the norms and restrictions of society rather than fight to be and remain an individual.  It’s also easier to regret.. than make new memories too.

It also seems like people are fine with searching for things to fill in their voids (I know I do with my Training Life) for lots of reasons.  But what I hate the most is when people make the silly decision to have sex for all the wrong reasons.  I wonder about Natural Sex and where did go?  Did it ever exist?  See, there’s a degree of dumbing oneself down like America once you engage in sex with a person you knew you shouldn’t have.

Instantly your IQ decreases.  Your standards are now the scum of the earth.  You feel ashamed.. you torment yourself and it trickles down and others can tell (like me!) by observing your behavior like a marriage settlement (or arrangement?) and than what do you know another regret..another fucking void, another pill to pop (possibly?), a drink (maybe?) or everyone’s tried and true… run back to the good ol’ ex (is it really fulfilling?) or go to church to bargain with..what?..something foreign.  Ah, but you, my friend lack faith in everyone including yourself.  Do you start back on Square One?  *cheeky smile*

I have many different issues on the line.  And I don’t know if I would call Dating one of them as it’s definitely something much more internal than that.  I have this pattern and I notice it last year as it became super clear like the time I practiced abstinence only to sense other people’s sexual energy/frustration.  For what seem like the life of me I couldn’t bring myself over the hump of first base with a guy.  And when I do, I instantly drop the word bombs on the guy some time or another during one of our hang-outs:  Once I kiss you I’m never going to see you ever again.

Most think I’m joshing.  I’m not.  Why would I kid about something like this?  Especially this one guy I truly did like despite the language barrier between us.  We got hot and heavy in the hotel room, where we made out passionately and I even allowed him to give me foreplay, lick my kitty all up until I almost came.  (The only reason why I didn’t cum was because I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of anything really.)  And after that night I told him the same thing I’m never seeing you again.  He thought it was a joke.  (I probably would have thought it was a joke too especially if I just finished licking someone off. 😉 )  I wind up breaking his heart.  Completely unintentional though.  What else am I to do?  I have a trivial problem.  But I’d like to eventually get around to fixing it.

What I know is: I’m good for a stimulating conversation.  Peer pressured to have a beer or two.  I’m in it for a quick thrill.  I love the chase.  I love the fake conquest.  The imaginary notch under my million dollar diamond wrestling belt.  I love that I’m good at luring people in.  I like to see them struggle in my fantasy web.  I create a picture that allows me to be the Exception.  Yet if they give me a little, I’ll nibble on the bait.  If they stroke my ego just the right amount I’ll flash them a breast or two.  I only play for a minute as long as I’m in control.  See, if he shows me his greedy excitement, I split quicker than a guy who learns his girlfriend is pregnant.  I rarely ever make it to a home run.

Only once two years ago.