Would you linger?

That thought.

That passed just now.

 How did it feel?

Would you linger?

Right now?

With me?

I had a very interesting night last night. I hung out with a chick that I tried to date... not one of my most serious attempts but my first attempt since I had officially decided to not be involved with thee ex. It was nice in a masochistic way. I spilled my heart out. I told her exactly how hurt she had left me. How I knew she had lied to me about being with her ex boyfriend behind my back. Countless times. How I know I was nothing but a filler to her... nothing else. How I understood that she only wants me now only because I'm not an option anymore.

It was liberating.

She sat there, head turned, eyes slightly narrowed... lips pressed together. All she had left was apologies and, "I didn't mean some of those things in that way." That's all she had to offer me. "You weren't exactly a rebound... I just don't know how to separate myself from him in a way that would allow me to be with someone else." and my favorite: "I can't believe I said that to you... I mean, I know I did... but I can't believe I would say that."

We talked until around 5am. I picked up my phone and opened my UberSocial app today and entered the words, "Telling the girl that hurt your heart exactly how you feel & girl still wanting to be a friend. #awkward" I deleted awkward and replaced it with #winning and then replaced that with #justthatgood then I deleted the whole thing. It felt weird to triumph over being able to express myself in the way I wanted and it actually ending up pretty okay. I mean, I'm by no means trying to get back with this girl (That ship has sailed so far down it's already semi-ported at another station... got me?) and by no means am I wishing her the worst... I just know that she doesn't deserve the opportunity to be with me in that way. And now she knows it too.

I've been such a deadhead today from staying up so late. I have a special ringtone that goes off and my lips gently form into a subtle smile. I sigh, trying to contain my hopeful feeling and remember all I've learned about myself and my situations this last year. 23 Days until Chicago. I haven't talked to my Drummer friend in a couple weeks... but she's been in Europe with her woman, so I guess they just haven't returned yet or she's in the whirl-wind of "I've been gone in a different fucking country for weeks and now I have to adjust to actual reality once again" and I just haven't been a priority. Which is fine, because honestly all I want is her to be all, "Yeah, man. We're still on. See ya in October, woman!!!" and that be that. It will make my over-anxious paranoia calm down. That will take maybe a few seconds of her time and there are very many seconds before the 5th of October.

There has been a lot of fights lately on my corner. One of the collective and I spoke about it the other day. We swapped stories of hearing angry words hurled between strangers. We decided that fighting is lame. Sometimes I feel like I'm a stage hand for Jersey Shore... North Carolina Hipster Edition. As I type this right now there are yells of: "Fuck you" "Ahhhh! hahahaha" and a sound something similar to a very angry Rooster. Drunk bitches. Go figure. The first week school was back in full-swing it was about 10:30pm and I had laid down to watch a movie. It was still blueblack outside, right before the sun had given up on us for the day.

"You're a fucking cunt!" He exclaims.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she says.

"I don't know what the fuck your problem is!" I can hear him moving his arms around while he speaks.

"Just take me to my car, Just take me to my car" she is sobbing, begging.

"What the FUCK is your problem?!" He is very angry. They were standing in the middle of the street, the girl walking and the dude trailing behind her.

"Just take me to my GODDAMNED car!" She sobs, apologetically.

I wanted to yell from my balcony, "No honey. Call a friend. Don't go anywhere with that asshole." But I refrained. I just laid in bed and rolled my eyes. I replayed the same scenario in my head but if it had been two lesbians instead...

"You're a fucking cunt!" Girl1 exclaims.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Girl2 sobs.

"You should'a thought twice before you got all cute with that dude!" Girl1 states.

"You should'a fucking paid more attention to me, bitch!" Girl2 screams back.

The girls sternly look at each other.

"Fuck this, I'm walking home. Fuck you." Girl1 screams and starts walking in opposite direction.

"No, babe! No!" Girl2 yells, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! You know I don't fuck boys anymore!"

"Yeah, sure!" Girl1 yells over her shoulder, trying to keep walking.

"Babe! Seriously! I'm fucking sorry! Let's just go home! Let's go home together!" Girl2 is really sobbing now.

Girl1 turns around and rolls her eyes, "Fine. But don't fucking talk to me on the way there."

Okay, so girls can be hostile too, but basically that's how lesbian fights pan out. They can get insane... but generically... they're like that. In my experience, anyway.... from witnessing and being a part of it. Girls are crazy. We all are and most of us realize this. We know we overreact to things, we realize we say dumb shit... we are all attention whores. (Just all various degrees of each of those things I just mentioned) So... because of that... sometimes when two girls are fighting, as a couple, we sometimes forget who was wrong and why and if it's just being blown out of proportion because there are two vaginas involved.... not to mention she gives you that look that makes you get all gooey and you just want to fuck and get the argument behind you. hah. Okay, maybe not that last part... but you get what I'm saying.

Then, just a few days ago there was an argument between band members. The lead singer and the bassist (from what I gathered) and the lead singer was hitting his van and evicting the guy from the van. (I don't know if that means the guy actually LIVED in there or just kept equipment in there) It was an interesting argument, although I only heard the lead singer's side of it... the bassist wasn't as crazy yelly as the lead singer was.

I feel like this house is the fly on the wall and the bars on the corner are the people who do the dumb shit the fly gets to snicker about.

I love this place.

New Ink: Feelin' Sleek

New ink makes a girl happy.

(Especially when the side affect is everyone keeps telling me I'm sexy)

Please, keep calling me sexy.

I like it.

I was well past due for legit ink. Not just something small. Although my Marina & the Diamonds tattoo was flawless and exactly what I wanted... it's still considerably small compared to the... well.. chest piece... on the neighboring collarbone. Now I have to figure out how to make it even and have a full chest piece... *sigh* Okay... so maybe I won't... who knows? I was never going to get a large chest piece... I actually thought it was kind of tacky (Well, some of them) and very hipster. I'm unsure how I feel about being hipster.




I've had a song on repeat...

It is meeeeeeee. OmiGeez. On the real.

Man the nerve of this bitch
Pardon my French
But it's been 10 days
And I'm getting kind of light headed
Maybe I'll write her a letter in a gentleman's way
And send it with the hopes that she might get it
I can't believe I let her run all over me
But all I think about is
When she's here and holding me
I love her
She's the reason for the lesions
Man I love her
I start bleeding when she's leaving
And every scar on my fingertip is a reminder of
All the lessons learned
All my missions trying to find her and
I can't complain
I kind of like the pain
She ain't even got a name
She just lives in my brain

Just sayin'.

But yeah... anyway. It's been an interesting couple of weeks to say the least. 25 days until I'm in Chicago. I'm elated. Everything else is on suspension until then. It's a good feeling. To be all, "Eh, I'm not doing shit until I get back from Chicago." or "I will just deal with that issue when I get back from Chicago and I'm really hoping it blows over before I get back" and all my social situations are up in the air. I would prefer to not to commit to anyone or anything until I get cynosure on where I want to end up. Everything is an eyebrow raise and a question right now.... and it's liberating.

Also, I can tell a difference in my crazy. It's less crazy. I've mellowed out. I'm not too hopeful during situations and I'm not ruling anything out either. It's a happy medium of "maybe one day, but if not that's cool too" which is glorious and spectacular compared to my previous aspect on life. I'm starting to feel more me and less like that other thing I was.

Maybe it's all that self-inflicted tattoo pain? Maybe it's happiness in the form of a pretty girl? Maybe it's just me being real and actually not giving a shit so much anymore?

ehh... whatever it is...

Right Align Sigh

Being in my room makes me feel sick to my stomach.

It's the scene of a crime I've been committing.

I just can't help myself... can't stop myself... won't stop it from happening.

No true regret, just earnest lust and hopeful disposition.

Lots of positions.

It's wrong... I know it is... I'm setting myself up for an unfair heartbreak. I'm even getting lied to and know it... but it's forgivable. I'm no fool. I sense these lies and ignore them accordingly. Why? So I can get off? Maybe... Because I want to pretend what we have is more? Absolutely.

Sigh.

I know it's not more. Don't be confused. This is just me grumbling, to myself.. and to those who lurk this blog in hopes to find some greasy, dirtydirt on me. (Or you're just nosey) Either way. Yeah. Here I am. Being played like a fiddle.

And liking it.

(A bit too much)

On the surface anyway. I mean... it's not like I enjoy the game, that's not so much a game, because I was never mislead about the outcome. Also, constant reminders of the omitted truth surface and I am left, head sagging... kicking myself... because I can't even be mad about it. I don't really want to be mad about it either, seems like too much work. Too much effort to get all nutso and demand attention from someone who isn't doing anything wrong... per se.

Maybe I'm just not meant for this type of thing?

I remember telling her, "I don't do relationships anymore" I re-read that sent txt for days after sending it. It burned in my throat and made my pupils dilate as I slithered my eyes around the open space around that printed txt, which bounced off of a satellite somewhere and was delivered to her phone... impartial to what it might mean to me. Not once did that satellite think, "O shit, she didn't mean to send that. Heh, *delete* Never happened." Instead... it sent, within seconds... like it was a brief breeze on a spring day... everyone felt it but no one particularly cared either way. Well, I cared. A great deal. I felt fake when I typed it, resented when I sent it and weighed down once it confirmed it had been delivered. Not that it matters. In this situation the worst case scenario is that I begin to receive no attention what so ever if my feelings are ever expressed, wholeheartedly.

But is just being a flesh covered, organic, blow up doll acceptable?

Really?

I don't know... I'm so sexually under-stimulated and she's so very good at fixing that for me... It's a dilemma I face and I'm greatly unsure of how I would like it to come to pass as it were. It's weighing me down though, I know that much.

Sigh.

Lesbian Internet Dating aka Pen Pals via Internet

Either FireFox hates me or I black out when I type things.

Do you know how embarrassing it is to type not only the wrong word, but misspell it terribly?

So. Frustrating.

It's also not a turn on, I'm sure. I'm trying a stab at online dating. Well, not getting into a relationship with people via the interwebs, but rather finding people on the interwebs that I may want to spend some time with in real life. My word choices and wording has been atrocious. I feel like I need to proof read everything three times before I send a response and yet I still fucking fail at getting it right. I'm not avid at my attempts right now, but more or less enjoying conversation with someone I might have never otherwise gotten acquainted with. It's also fun to see how people describe themselves. I read their resume and critique them like I'm sure they do me. I even come across people I've seen around town and I'm all omigodface and wonder if they even would place me if I inquired. (By "Around town" I mean "I probably drunkenly hit on them while at a bar")

I also ask myself: Should I be embarrassed?

Nah, I tweet too much bullshit to be embarrassed about being caught on a dating site by someone I barely know.

I'm also very interested in the blogs that people link via their profiles. I'm finding fantastic ones. I think I may just take up dating their blogs. It's like dating them but in a creepy.internet.stalker way. Well, maybe not creepy... since I won't be googling them until I find their home address or anything. That's just too much work for me. I prefer to read their sentences and find my common interests amongst their words, wondering if they'd read my blog in the same manner.

Dating sites always amaze me in the way that (generally speaking) people assume these sites are for casual sex only. I also think the approach to online dating is very different if you are heteromale or heterofemale. By being a lesbian it is my duty to find a wife that I will want to spend most of my time with and possibly get an animal together with. (Okay, so not really.) I guess you could say I fail horribly in that aspect. I am just interested in finding a lady to spend some cutesy relationship-like time with. Not to mention-- the coolest profiles I find the chicks are in an entirely different state and/or already involved with someone in their real life existence. I'm not only discouraged by this, it also proves my theory of where I am isn't for me. When I first joined the site it gave me a list of worst states and best states I would probably find a date. I thought it was interesting and a cruel joke at my expense.

My Best States:

1.  Oregon
2.  Massachusetts
3.  Vermont
4.  Colorado
5.  California 

Obviously I don't live in any of those states... and honestly, I have no desire to even visit those listed. Well, maybe Cali but Colorado? Fucking seriously? I'd rather be single for the rest of my life than even spend 10mins in that state. (No offense to anyone who likes it there. Honestly, I've never even been there to judge it properly) It's so landlocked it makes me claustrophobic to even consider it. So right off the bat-- the website, built for finding love, was giving me the middle finger at my aspirations of finding someone that might even likelike me. I mean... come on... couldn't they have at least told me somewhere I might want to move? Or maybe even list a state that is an easy days drive?

My Worst States:
1.  Arkansas
2.  Mississippi
3.  Oklahoma
4.  Alabama
5.  West Virginia

Go ahead, laugh it out. I sure did. I remember a big, belly laugh and covering my mouth to stifle the audacity bubbling up within me as I read the worst state list. I would like to say they made this list purely off of my homo-status and called it a day. Is anyone really surprised by this? No, not at all. Well, I didn't expect you to be.

Then, they continued with the waving of such a rude gesture in my face, tauntingly, as they continued these fancy lists of countries I would be better and worst suited.

My Worst Countries:
1.  Indonesia
2.  Philippines
3.  Malaysia
4.  Thailand
5.  Singapore

No 3rd world countries. Check. I mean... really... this has to be another homo judgement. But then again, America is pretty shitty on the homo-front and it has the means to be more accepting but the Religious Doctrine that is drenching our Politics is just disastrous and holding us back... but that's a-whole-nother blog.

My Best Countries:
1.  Austria
2.  Israel
3.  Belgium
4.  Greece
5.  Switzerland

Again with the sadface. I mean, those all sound like amazing places but with my feeble income I highly doubt I will spent any amount of time in any of those places to find love. It's a nice thought though.... I could be all Elizabeth Gilbert and return home with a paid book deal, focus and lots of sexy time under my sarong. (or whatever the local fashion is)

So yeah... there is is. hah, I never wanted to tell people I had joined a dating site, but I figured what the fuck... more people are on one than you'd expect and there is no shame. Seriously, unless you are using it to find your next murder victim-- Keep on keepin' on!

Just sayin'

Partial Sunshine.

Have you ever looked in a mirror and was startled by what you saw? Wondering how you could look the way you do but feel so different?

I am someone entirely different in my head. In my head: I am a little heavier, my hair is a bit bigger and my smile is a little less crooked.... but when I gaze at my reflection and see a beautiful, skinny girl staring back at me I get petrified. I am wasting away. I've grown up. My face is older now, it seems like it's hiding so much knowledge behind those sea-green eyes and I need to know what those eyes know.

I find myself examining myself in a mirror as if I'm looking at a stranger, playing a staring contest... waiting for that other person to break down and spill their guts. For this stranger, this beautiful stranger, to tell me what I'm doing wrong and how to correct it. She tells me I'm not actually broken, I'm not as damaged as I perceive myself. She tells me without moving her lips that I can do whatever I put my mind to, because I've done it countless times before. Overcoming isn't an obstacle, it's just the space between sentences.

I create things and re-expose myself to it dauntlessly until I'm submerged in it, drowning in it. I'm convincing myself I'm some horrible green fuzzy monster and everyone else is just humoring me until I lull myself into a safe-submissive place where I think I'm not as exposed anymore.... only to look down and find my heart in hand, blood trickling down to my elbow... wondering when I ever ripped it out. I quietly; gently shove my heart back up into my ribcage wincing at the pain I should've felt as I removed it in the first place. Blood all down my front, pooling at my feet. I frown, trying to convince tears to surface in my eyes.... but nothing. I'm just left there in a pool of my own blood, wondering how I ended up so exposed.

I'm learning how not to be so broken about being broken... now if only I could stop being such a romantic about it I may have a chance. I'm learning how to be a friend first... how to put my intentions up front but only at their pace.... it's all about vibes and feelings. If it's there, it's there... if it's not, it won't be. I get told I put myself out there too much and then again I get told I'm not out there enough. So I'm just going to be "there" where-ever "there" may be. I figure if I hang out with enough people I am bound to come across someone who might want to get to know me well, without drama and without too much sacrifice. Now, I'm not actively throwing myself into social situations prowling around with a second agenda. I'm to the point now where it'd be nice, but I've already turned purple from holding my breath about it... so now I have caved and started breathing like normal. It's strange how one has to have a mental breakdown to realize how silly one looked in the process of getting there.

No, I'm not okay, but I'm getting better. My main problem is I invest too much emotions too quickly... or not quick enough. It's the balance I feel will only occur when the situation enables it to. I see myself for who I actually am now. I'm not grotesque/disfigured nor am I crazy or surpassingly depressed. Something deep inside of me is making it painfully obvious that I'm not as crazy and ugly as I imagine myself. Before, looking in the mirror was me looking past myself. Now... I look directly into my own eyes and know better. I know better than to think any less than myself.

I guess you could say my confidence is coming back in full force, without my consent. I have nothing left to do but welcome it and smile.... even when the darkness tells me to frown.

Also, I don't have a girl to blame for this sudden change of mind.

It's all me.

Just me.

xoxo

Homo-wha?

I'm trying to form a blog. Compose words into meaning. Type things that would entice your thought process and even maybe change your mind about a few things.

There is something about seeing a natural disaster that sets everything in perspective. Something that triggers the, "this is bad, but it could always be worse" mindset. The ache in your gut that there was nothing physically possible in stopping what has already occurred. The fleeting feeling that you've left emotional struggles to face head-on the physical ones.

I left Greensboro in haste. I was pretty much an emotional wreck. Not a slow moving train or sinking ship... but a fully submerged vessel still glub-glubbing to the bottom and a derailed train, doing flips down an endless cliff. Both at the same time.

Yes, that serious.

I arrived at night and by the mask of darkness my hometown seemed pretty normal until I went to park in my mother's yard. I had to wedge my car in between fallen branches and chopped up tree. My mom's yard is huge and I couldn't find a place to park... anywhere. Her entire yard was covered by branches and fallen trees. It was really bad, the worst I've ever seen it. We spent 12hrs cleaning up that mess and I got to see the neighborhood in the sun as I traveled to my sister's house. Everyone seemed to be outside picking up pieces of trees, sweat pouring down their face and their eyes squinting.

The next day I saw my grandmother's house and words can't even describe how horrible her yard looked. Now remember, I'm saying how terrible it is and I didn't even have time to see the worst part of the county. It's terrible... Humbling, frightening and personal in an impartial way. Irene didn't care who she fucked up, she just did what she was built for, large gusts of wind in a circular motion until something in the climate/landfall/cold front either made it change direction or dissipate. The whole community is coming together. People would drive past my grandma's house and txt or call my sister or mom and offer to come over and help with clean up. (Yes, it was that bad) There is a man from down the street from my grandma that keeps breaking his tractor trying to help us with clean up. Today he got a screwdriver in his tire. No blame, no anger, just "I'ma fix it and be back tomorrow" and he then shows up, ready to go.

This was exactly what I needed, I'm just sad for the reasons I was needed back home but they have proven to be fruitful. My family and I have been on edge since... well, I was 12 years old. The catalyst was when I came out of the closet at 21. My family and I have been on eggshells ever since. Each visit was spent with polite conversation and me just listening to their current events and them never asking me anything about my life. I'd go home feeling jipped and jaded. Maybe it's because this visit the focus was on a common goal? I'm unsure, but this visit was the first visit I've ever felt a part of the family, not just an alien visitor. It was delightful.

I came home late yesterday afternoon and had to call out of work because traffic was just horrid through Raleigh (as always, I hate that place) and I had spent a bit too long in Wilmington working out some brainstorming ideas with some really awesome chicks that help run Homoground. I'm so honored to be apart of the group and support such an adventurous idea. The chick that runs it is truly amazing to have put this all together basically alone and make it happen. I'm hoping that my radio insight and my obsession with writing everything down keeps me in the position of always being able to be apart of this project.

Suddenly I've gotten entirely too ADD to finish this post... 

So sorry.