a Clockwork Rabbit

Spring back, fall forward

First…the ALL IMPORTANT HAPPY HOLLOWEEN!
second… Starting tonight at 12:01 NA NO BLOG MO
C… HAPPY UBERSUPER SUMO HAPPY NUMBER NINTYNINE!!!!
Ciao, gots to go and make my template

RANDOM

She turned her head and sparks were born, somewhere deep in her belly sparks concieved chaos.
They came out in flames, in words.
Lies like diamonds, rubys, and smoke of myrrh. Treasures of guilt.
She opened her mouth, and her heart fell out
Broken jaded glass
filled with wicked waters of some cerulean sea
crash shattered
and spilled
filling a void with noise
like angels scoffing. She held out her hands, scorched abraided palms held up to a lion dark sun and praised god in a voice like a bullwhip.
Snapping and thunderous.
Tipped with a thousand diffrent meanings all dangerous
all bringing welts to
silk and satin skin
how can goddesses be so cruel.
so outlandishly violent. cold with hot ribbons of chills, shining darkly in mists of violet.
She turned her head and the darkness fell
in heaven folding waves
like velvet curtains of a theater made of ocean and stars, coming down in soft piles. Coming down like sighing.
Heart hot and gasping, capitulating to a higher lesson…
I bow my head, I bow my head.

I sing Zipadeedodah I sing Zipadeeyay

THIS never fails to make me laugh.

Lady of Rage

I spoke to Mulligan yesterday.
I’ll tell you the story of a boy I broke.

Back when my whole sexual revolution was happening … during the 7 months of drugs, cash and S&M… I met a tiny boy on the beach.
He had hair like satin, black with shines that were the color of a full moon and a mouth so fucking beautiful… that for the first fucking time…I lusted so deeply it was like fury. Hot, heavy and immediate.
His last name was Mulligan, I called him Mulls or Gilly… just to piss him off. It never happened though, he never once did anything other than grin at me and lower his eyes.
It drove a spike through me
those demure eyes
I’d find myself trembling and going to drown myself in vodka to get over it.
I didn’t know I was hard wired for domination at the time. I thought these…urges…were so sick and twisted, that the dreams of having him shivering under me were some … abomination on my part.
I blissed myself out over and over to keep away from him.
Slaughter (my deliriously sexy investment banker) was the one who finally told me to just follow my loins…because we both knew my heart had nothing to do with it.

I took the keys to my car and found Gilly at the Denny’s on the boardwalk. I pulled him out of the booth, threw money on the table, took that tiny boy to the nearest motel and did everysingle thing my body urged me to do.
He never once said no.
He’s who I perfected my Altoid trick on.
Arms tied above his head and legs pulled to each corner of the foot of the bed he lay there as I worked him over. When his cries pissed me off I gagged him. He was my own personal artscape. I deocorated him with bite marks and bruising kisses.
I untied him when I was finished and left him there and went home.
I slept that night as I always did. Curled up like puppies with Slaughter, the girls, and Ray. But I thought about him.
After that I ignored Gilly until I felt the urge, always those demure eyes and that fall of dark hair and those beautiful shoulders turned bronze by the sun.
When I left Galveston for Canada (and eventually rehab) Gilly wept.
Never once did I make any plans for any sort of future.
I told him he was my addiction…what else do you expect a 17 yearold to say?

When I saw him again for the first time (a year later) he held me, breathed me in and sighed against my skin.

Gilly now works for Fox Photography Studios. But thankfully he’s in another team and I don’t see him. But Pompus Bastard was talking about some sexual deviant he and his girl had fallen for and I made the mocking comment that I wanted to meet and critique.
PB brought his boy over and I almost hit the floor.
Older. Larger. But with still those demure eyes and delicate line of jaw. Gilly.
I can’t explain how it shook me.
I don’t like those 7 months of my 17th year of life. I want to forget them, to purge them, to lock them inside of a seachest and dump it into Lake Erie.
PB looked between us for a second, because we stared at each other like thieves caught picking each others pockets.

Gilly just laughed, and you know what… I’d never heard the boy laugh while talking before…If I did i don’t remember. It’s a sliding bell of noise.
I waited for the spike to drive through me. I waited for anything… but nothing was there other than my own tension.
I called him the boy… I found out today the “boy” is 5 years older than me.
We spoke about the beach, about the food, about the drunken fiascos…
as if we were friends, as if I wouldn’t steal him and force him to do things to himself and to me that made his cheeks flush and his hands shake.
We laughed and chatted as if normalicy was something we’d shared.
But when he hugged me goodbye…
he breathed me in and sighed.

Stars shining in the broad daylight
and it’s something that don’t happen all the time

I’ve spent the betterpart of 2 days thinking on this. Why didn’t I feel that spike why didn’t I want to scream and destroy. Why I did not want him to call me.
I’m finding myself so wrapped up in how I feel about D. I want him in my life so badly. I wait to see him come online, I despise a country that our goverment sent him to to fight a war that will never be won.
But I don’t talk about how my feeling affect me.
Too deep. Too close to the marrow of me.
Because I’m scared that I’ll say the words that will make my emotions real and he’ll dissapear. I’m scared that if he knows how I feel that he’ll leave me the first time I don’t succumb to his will.
I’m scared that I don’t know the diffrence between someone who loves me and someone who wants to be inlove with someone I cannot be.
But he’s diffrent I want to say.
Diffrent in the way that he’s normal and stable and sure of himself.
That he’s utterly beautiful and he wants me.
My doubts have become a sort of sick garden. One that I find I nurture by ignoring.

I look at my life, I breathe in all the regrets I promised I’d never have and find myself wanting to throw shit.
I keep looking at these artschools I want to attend and I’m so scared that I’m not gonna be good enough to get in. My hand has grown stiff and lines don’t flow like they used to.

…oh goddess…
I’m having a pity party.
FUCK YOU PMS! FUCK YOU!!

I’m off to Midol m’self.
Ciao

MINDLESS RANT #0673 you better carry yo fat hungry ass on, then.

BACK STORY:
MDK’s are going over my aunt’s friend San’s house overnight. San is supposed to pick up the kids tonight. My aunt invited San and her husband to a dinner of nachos.
I’m the one who’s cookin’ no one asked me if I minded company.
Called San told her of the plans, it’s all good she’ll come over when her husband shows up.

Stupid Fuckin Cat

San: where’s your aunt?
Me: she had a festival to do.
San: Oh, then why did she invite me over, I thought she’d be there.
Me: Uh, to pick up the kids?
San: Well my husband said he isn’t coming over until she has his steak.
Me: Oh, we’re having nachos for dinner.
San: Nachos? What’s nachos?
Me:……….. cheese. Chips.
San: No meat?
Me: There’s gonna be chicken.
San: ~tisk~ Chicken?
Me: Chicken. If you want to talk to my aunt you can call her cell phone. ~CLICK-UP~

Now.
I didn’t invite this bitch to dinner
I didn’t tell her to bring her fat ass over my house to EAT MY GODDAMNED FOOD. Where the fuck does she get of demanding SHIT?!
and I DAMNED SURE DIDN’T INVITE HER GODDAMNED HUSBAND EITHER.
Don’t make me go fucking total grapeshit on somegoddamned body. MY GOD who the fuck does she think she is? STEAK? piece of shit.
OHMYDAMNGOD chicken not good enough? CARRY YA ASS THEN!
SHIT
THIS AIN’T NO GODDAMNED RESTURANT BITCH, YOU AIN’T PAYIN ME TO FEED YA ASS.
People don’t know who in the fuck she’s messin’ with. I’ll give MDKs laxatives and pure sugar and send them on to her goddamned house she keeps fuckin with me.

every body seems to be getting what they need,
where’s mine?
you’re what I need so very
but I’m anything but ordinary

I feel like I’m going to be ill.
I have to go under the knife. I’m gonna have minor surgery on my toe! OF ALL THINGS! OH GODDESS NOOOOOOOOOOOO!

I finally broke down and went to the DR over this STUPID FUCKING OUCH OF A FOOT of mine and found out that it’s an ingrown toenail gone bad.
so bad
bad to the bone

really quick STUPID CAT CONVERSATION

Navy: you know how you get ingrown toe nails don’t you
Me: No.
Navy: it’s when your toes get together and breed, they’re too closly related.

and somewhere far in the background you can hear Fozzie going:
‘Waka Waka Waka!’

look what you’ve done
what have you done
you were just a kid
you weren’t ready for what you did

I’ve gained 15 lbs this month.
GODDAMNED TANK ASS!
I’m never happy. I’d lost 30 and 15 found it’s way home again. GODDAMNIT…I knew I shouldn’t have allowed my cellulite to put in change of address forms.

I spoke to Jax last night again. This is starting to remind me of when I lived in Baytown (shudder) and we’d talk for almost 8 hours some nights. At least 4 everynight.
Jax is’ums a good boy, yes’ums he is! Though I belive that whenever I talk to Jax I become one of the cursed.
My proof?
1)Cunning cockroach stealthy climbed up the wall…then DISSAPEARED when I went screaming from the room to get my cousin to kill it.
Jax laughed.
2) MASSIVE SPIDER…I walked into it when taking out the trash. I ran screaming back into the house.
Jax laughed.
3) Kung-fu cricket was on my shoe. My throat was too sore for screaming so I whined instead.
Jax laughed.

I belive. I TRUELY BELIVE that Jax has a contract out with these bugs.
Bastard.

when the world is on it’s knees with me

This clinic I went to is in the bad part of town. Navy and I were there for like 35 minutes before we heard. “LOCK THE FRONT DOOR CALL THE POLICE, SOMEONE’S BREAKING INTO THE CARS IN THE BACK.”
So EVERYONE starts scattering. Thankfully Navy and I were parked in the front and could see our car easily. So one of the nurses comes into the waiting room all “if he comes to the front door, you all just run back this way…” like a buncha goldfish in a tank.
oh please.
So I’m sitting there listening to Judge Joe Brown on TV and reading about the making of the movie Troy while the other women (Navy included) milled around like a buncha sheep in a room fulla mirrors.
There was no way in hell I was gonna JUMP UP AND RUN if that bastard came in through the front door. He’d have to take my fat ass prisoner or something.
Boobs McGillicutty runs for NODAMNBODY.

…before I get arrested for these expectations.

I don’t know if D. thinks I’m going to leave with him without marraige. I promised that I’d give up the cities for him, and I will. But not without something solid.
I’m done with playing house, I can’t just move MDK’s again, I can’t uproot my children anymore.
It’s bad enough that we’ve not been stable in 3 years and B keeps talking about “his house” and when we find it.
I’ve done wrong by B and BB, I want to stay here in one place for as long as possible. But my fucking SOUL wants to roam. it wants to pack up and leave again, no questions asked just land somewhere.
I’ve too much “little egyptian” in by blood apparently.

I have this fear that if I accept how I feel about D and if I just LET GO of all the rage and hate and lessons in “how to dodge blows” that I’ll lose.
In the end I’ll lose again.
D. says he thinks we wouldn’t survive another 2 years apart while he goes to school. He’s probably right. It’s over 33 hours away from here and I can’t live from holiday to holiday just waiting and praying to see him. Staring at the phone and girding myself everytime it rings because it just may not be him. I can’t live for the minutes I can steal typing lovesongs over lightwaves.

But I’m not willing to give up my stance.

Humble Mumble

And my beauty
is a thing of fables
untrue and unrealised
the charm of my hips
and the curve of my thighs
myths and legends
based loosely on fact
grown bold by retelling

Tatter tales
told
over beer growing warm
The plesure of my
burnt umber lips
leaving streaks
of color
against now limp skin

I am
and forever will be
the reason Mulligan cries
the reason Gouldy shudders
the reason why Dansby will never again
doubt the power
of girls who can’t dance.
the reason Anwar wears chains
…and Walker will never regain confidence.

The story of a voice
that purred from the dark
that cried out from under neath
that sang an eons song
in C

I am
and forever will be
the reason that coffee shop boy
will never date again
why little boys on subway trains
shiver when dark eyed girls toss back thier head and laugh.

Why bald envestment bankers in leather
never visit the beach
without blankets

I told them all goodbye
the boys
the men
the kisses in the dark

and held my stories
like lovers

Don’t let the sun catch you cryin’
Cryin’ at my front door
You done daddy dirty
He sure don’t want you no more

I had this huge long post in my head, but it’s gone to the place dead crabs go.

I have a choice to make
But instead of making it I’m gonna waste my time and my life by babbling innane shit about nothing in particular.

Actually I’m not I’m gonna take my sad elf ass to bed and try again tommrow.

Caio.

darlin’ you give love a bad name

Question:
What has “nice” ever gotten me other than pissed the fuck off?

Answer:
Not a goddamned thing.

Before people start blathering about christian values and morals and codes of ethics, I mean nice as in push-over, unnassuming, bow-your-meek-little-neck-and-shut-the-fuck-up.

I am much more comfortable being a bitch, I am much more comfortable being me. Spikey, ballsy and damn near as close to violent as you can get without actually going ballistic.
So.
that said.

A letter to you. Not that you’ll ever have the balls it takes to fucking read it.

That first time you said you loved me.
I should have rolled off of you and spit in your eye. The first time you held my hand, I should have clawed your skin off. I should have ripped your limbs from thier sockets.
I could taste your lies. On the back of my tongue like pomegranate juice. You weren’t in love with me. You never were.
But it’s alright…right? You made the motions, you did what you had to do. For the moment.
I don’t mean to sound bitter.
Wait, yeah I do.
I’m fucking bitter.
Instead of being A WOMAN, instead of holding true to myself and my morals (as fucked as they were at the time) I just lay there and stared at you. I paid for that silence. Never again. Never ever again.

Five years later, I have the balls to answer your question.

yeah, you’re right. you were just a fuck.

You know you know everything

I’M ROYALTY! According to Jim that is.
He is now a new member of the FRA pantheon. Yup, right up there with Rob .
But you’ll have to worship Jim on sundays after sundown. Bring sparklers.

How is it that you can feel such a connection to someone so quickly? Dunno, but I read Jim’s blog and I was all OMG, YOU’RE ME! but not…and…uh…YOU’RE ME!
Felt that way about Jax too though.
what am i talking about? I STILL FEEL THAT WAY ABOUT JAX!
spoke to Jax about 3 hours or so today, doing good, our Jax is.
UNSEELIE BASTARD I MISS YOU. and below you will find the pictures of the lunar eclipse, and yesh I know i mispell eclipse all over the place.

Back to babbling about Jim, on his blog he posts what he would do if he were given rule for a week. I’m so gonna steal that idea… THE WORLD RUN BY FRA AND THE BANSHEES!

It’s just the weariness talkin.
CIAO!

So beautiful 

This was actually my first lunar eclipes WICKED