I like your bowtie

Bullshit is the little bow that holds the present together. When you untie it, the present is exposed, and the once pretty bow is now an unraveled ribbon pathetically falling to the ground.

What is now, what we find comfort in living amongst is held together by a whole lot of pretty bows which are easily able to be torn apart and undone. We let bullshit hold our lives together. It makes us look pretty, put together, intentional, and meaningful. We hide behind the bows because we think it’s what people want to see. We think people want us to always be put together. We want to feel put together. It’s part of our hierarchy of needs. It’s funny that self-esteem lies just under self-actualization. It’s so close to the top, yet can be so astronomically far away from the truth. We start to believe the excuses we make are valid. We begin to think that our caked on face is prettier than our naked one. It isn’t until we reach the tippy top of Maslows pyrimid that we can see things as they really are. We can see the creases from the liquids and powders we cover ourselves with. We can see the chunks of mascara clotting our eyelashes together. We can see our dark roots growing in under our bleached hair. The view from the top shows a unique truth that pierces through us in the most painful yet beautiful way.

You’ll know when you reach it because it’s so damn hard. It’s like blowing out your birthday candles, only they were trick candles, walking away and then finding out that they relit and burnt your house down. Truth hurts like a burn, and they say burn victims endure the most pain imaginable. So if you’re having trouble reaching your self-actualization, remember that that’s part of the shitstorm. We have to ache, we have to become fed up, transparent, naked, true, and vulnerable.

We want to avoid answering the seemingly easy questions because “what do you want,” “how are you,” “what are you doing,” are actually the hardest and most complicated questions to answer. We follow the guidelines of a made up rule book that keeps getting passed around by other self-conscious, yellow-bellied, amicable conformers. We just can’t help it—doing what we really want, saying what we really mean, just isn’t polite.

Stepping back from the glass sliding door I’ve had my face pressed against for so long that my nose still has a resemblance of a snout, I can finally see the real view of my backyard. I can see those pretty little bows holding myself together.  The imprint of my face glares off the glass just so that the sunlight shines right onto yours too. I see those bows, and boy, they are pretty.

 

spring, spring, goddamn spring

Spring has sprung! Oh god, punch me. Like we need more cliches or analogies to the more obvious oddities that come around every few quarter months. I’d love to smell the new budded roses but my nasal cavities are swollen from the pollen saturated air. These days of gloom and nights of boom-in-the-sky are making me feel achy and I wake up as if recovering from a bipolar episode pondering my emotional state.

Ok, but for real, I’m a big fan of spring. It’s my third favorite season.

I like that the streets I drive down are now covered with bright green leaves overhead. They’re almost neon lime green, my favorite color. Just a week and a half ago I was looking out my window at the bare tree branches slightly swaying in the wind. Mind you, they were only swaying because this past week has been super windy, branches aren’t usually great swayers. And today, those branches are full of half-grown neon green beauties. I’ve got my window open so I can feel the wet air and hear the birds chirping. The paper drawings I have hung up on the walls are slightly wilting, worth it though. I’m a big window gal. I hate air conditioning, especially in my car. Most of the time no matter where I end up, my hair is a tousled mess from all my windows being open, and that’s how I like it…it’s also why I wear hats all the time. So, spring brings me several little joys.

I was pondering as I was driving through this particularly early grey and gloomy morning, thinking man, I would prefer that the sun was out thinking my drive would be more pleasant and enjoyable. I found it difficult to fully wake up, and my eyes remained in a half open, half closed, crescent shape. But then later, something happened. The damn sun came out, and it got hot. Like whoa humid hot compared to the chilly morning where I had my heat on in my car. This is when I noticed the trees. The past few days have been all rain. All gloom. All wet. Now, I could watch a thunderstorm for hours completely content, but when grey wetness continues for days, I find myself wishing for the sun and dry pavement. But this is the part of spring that is so important.

Spring needs those dark gloomy rain ridden days. That’s what makes spring, spring. Because without the rain we wouldn’t get those pretty yellow dots that cover our yard after one rainfall, even though they make my allergies go bazerk. Without the rain, our streets wouldn’t be singing. Without the rain, we might forget what plush feels like under our feet.

My point is, we need those dark days. I’m talking in one of those cliche metaphor voices now—in case you didn’t realize that I switched it up there… 

What makes things beautiful, what makes us beautiful, are the dark days. There the days of doubt, of sadness, of boredom, of hurt, of whatever not pleasant feeling that we feel sometimes. Becuase those days give us the nourishment that we need. I realize this is borderline contradictory, stay with me here though. Those days give us the urge, the power, the desires that we need to get to the place of neon lime green.

Spring has sprung, and so can we. Ha ha now THAT was a good one. People will tell you, give it time, it might take awhile. But also, if nobody has told you yet, one rainfall can bud some pretty badass flowers.

You hope it isn’t you

I’d hate to burst your bubble so let me elevate you to a level of understanding.

You’re so quick to the tongue that your teeth are in the way for words to find a landing.

 

You are a tie-dye kept together with the rubber bands of someone else’s bindings.

 

You spit out words of a person before.

It’s so quick that you don’t even notice their reflection in your mirror.

 

I bet that rotten taste in your mouth

is left over from when you went south.

 

You have your bubble and world of mime.

Let’s play bumper cars, I know I’ll have a good time.

 

move on.

 

It was the day when you said nothing that spoke the loudest.

In that same day, I felt a chill pass through me. It must have been your ghost.

The words stuck on the tip of my tongue toppled over the brim of my lips and fell.

Heavy like a weighted lure, they found the ground quick.

I walked right over them, lifting my legs high.

I felt a cold push on my back, and I propelled myself forward.

The down damned and dirty

Facing yourself, the down, damned and dirty. You feel the soot, the sweat, the oil on your face at night. You feel the cracks, the calluses, you pick at the gunk under the fingernails of your fiddling hand.

Facing yourself, the down, damned and dirty.

You know your ugly. You know your regrets, your hate, every unethical thought you’ve had, you spit at yourself in spite and shame. Oh, you know your ugly.

You execute yourself, so willing you put your head on the chopping block, you even cut the damn rope of the guillotine. Facing yourself.

But afterward, you pick up your head and place it back on your shoulders just so as to avert any suspicion of your crookedness. And you walk on.

Your foe, the eyes looking back at you in the mirror, mocks you because they see right through the makeup, the BS, the excuses.

You know what’s real and you know what you fight for. Which is why you walk with that load on your shoulders.

What you expose is your beauty and your strength. Your ugliness, bent, surrenders to the better parts of you. You know your ugly which is why you look so damn good.

Murphy, you motherfucker.

It’s freaky how accurate my zodiac sign is. Today my horoscope warned me of the power of Murphy’s law. Its power not being much of a power but a warning in of itself stating that “what can go wrong will go wrong.”

I laughed at this.

Murphy’s law is a joke I have with myself. I feel Murphy. I feel him good and often. He’s the one who taught me to expect the worse. He’s the one who showed me what the back of my head looks like.

While he takes almost everything, he gives one thing.

Strength.

He’s given me strength in ways I never wanted nor expected. Preparation for a downfall—doesn’t get more romantic than that.

He’s stripped me down to just my skin too many times to count. No matter what I decorate myself with he’ll get his long fingers on me and rip away what I think I know. He’s shredded my conceptions, cut my legs off at my knees, and replaced my eyeballs with grey ones leaving me to look up watching the pieces of my life scatter across the sky.

It would be easy to name him my enemy.

But in its definition, an enemy is a thing that harms or weakens something else. So while Murphy’s ability to harm is uncanny, his power to weaken carries a more complicated definition.

Murphy is no enemy of mine. He’s a companion who walks beside me showing me what there is to see. He has no bias, no opinion, and no voice. He walks discriminating against no one as he carries the truth.

He is the threshold of fairness whether we like it or not.

Solid ground

Looking at yesterday, you feel it brush against you.

Its touch is sticky.

That’s where you stood, how you lived.

The moments that brought you to today, sting

Because to stand where you stand now, took courage.

To have courage you had to be strong.

To feel your strength you must have lived in pain.

Because when you look at where you stood then,

You can see the ice cracking under your feet.

To this day you can feel the water take your breath away.

That cold, that damn cold will always run through your veins.

 

Looking at today, you feel it lay on you.

It’s heavy.

It’s where you stand, how you’ve landed.

Yesterday may always sting,

But look at you now

Standing on solid ground .