Dark haired boys

With blue eyes

And pretty smiles

And talented tongues

That wrap you up in their strong grip

Big arms

Long kisses

Embracing me closer




So much of my life has been spent in cars. Family trips. Late night sneak outs. Moving up and down the coast. Lyfting. Some of the best driving has been at night when I’m alone and the world is dark. Just me and my stereo and taking every turn so smoothly and without care.

I remember being in high school and I was the first of my friends to have a car. We’d all meet around midnight. Rolling thru each other’s neighborhoods until the car was full of laughter. And then we’d take the long way. Starting from dodger stadium, all along sunset, until we came out the other side to palisades. We’d makes stops to look at huge houses and point out all the bars we’d go to when we were old enough. And then we’d sit at the beach and just dream about our futures.

And now is the future.

3:35 am. 35 minutes of being 33 now. My birthday was partially spent doing a little driving. Some friends took me up to the angeles crest forest on a rainy night. We smoked a couple blunts and looked out on the view. But it was the drive that made my night. So dark and dangerous, it was metaphor for my life. I was feeling extra existential. For so long my life was a dark and windy road. Stormy and slick from insecurities and sadness. I had to drive carefully to navigate it. And now I’m here. I’ve arrived in a sense. After so many years of feeling lost and getting into more than a few fender benders. I’ve come out pretty well. Then again I’ve always been very fortunate.

I look back on this year and I’m finally proud of myself. Something I’ve rarely felt. So on to the next leg of my journey. To finding roads that take me to even greater destinations.

Bad boys

There’s something fun about high school boys. Especially the reckless ones. Like the one with the corvette who took me up to the angeles crest forest. He said we could look at the stars but I knew he wanted to see other things. He drove fast. I couldn’t help but squirm in my seat a little.

Do you ever feel like people who don’t give a shit are more fun? Because they’re just not as concerned about convention. They do the things maybe I couldn’t. But thru them and suggestion I follow along.

Dream a little dream

I don’t dream as much as I used to. When I do it’s not usually good. Either she’s there or sometimes my father. I wake up with tears in my eyes and I long to roll over and find someone there that I can hold onto. Long gone are the days of running into my parents bedroom and saying I had a nightmare.

When I was a child my father put in a little red phone by my bed. It connected to one in their room. He said if I ever had a bad dream I could call and he would always pick up. Now that I’m older I wish I could sometimes pick up that phone so I can hear his voice once again.

January 10 marks the anniversary of his suicide. January 8 is my 33 birthday. If there was any point in time where I wish I had someone it’s now. To get me thru this. To be the arm that holds me up. The hand that I can grip when I feel like falling.

It doesn’t add up

When I meet someone who I feel is adamaged as I am. Mentally and emotionally I feel like I’ve met a kindred spirit. We understand each other, sympathize and support each other. But it never ends well. Two halves don’t always make a whole. Both parties have to grow and become their own, figure out just what the fuck is going on in their lives. Sometimes it just doesn’t work.

I feel like I’ve been working on myself for a while now. I know how to support a partner instead of enveloping them in my pains and fears. I know when to bring up my issues and not to trample over someone else’s.

Too much of a good thing

In all my years of growth and personal achievement thru therapy and self discovery the one thing I can’t get better about is being disappointed. I always tell myself, don’t get too worked up, don’t get excited, don’t hedge your bets. And when I do get cancelled on or something like that I become just really really sad.

I don’t usually voice my sadness. I internalize it all or write about it. But I wouldn’t want to tell that person how I feel. There are exceptions like last minute cancellations which are more angering than when people tell you ahead of time it’s not happening. But I don’t usually tell that person how I feel about what they do.

They are always extenuating circumstances. People change their plans to befit themselves and I’m not always a factor in their decisions I understand. I cant help but feel left out in the cold though.

I really want to feel like someone cares enough about me. I want to be a priority. Not just an afterthought.


“The number you have dialed is unavailable…”

this feels like my whole situation when it comes to like certain men. I know from the start it isn’t going to turn into something more, but I just fall deeper and deeper for some guys after hanging out with them.

They’re just too nice. But what is too nice? Is it not drawing proper boundaries? At the same time I don’t wanna hang out with some jerky dude either.

Maybe I shouldn’t be having casual sex at all. Maybe I should just lock it down and be alone until the one shows up. Btw where the fuck is he? But I need attention, affection and to have my pussy pounded every once in a while. Without physical affection I feel like I start to wither. Yeah I have friends who I can talk to and hang out with and hug sometimes. But a lovely nice cuddle does wonders too.