tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39550755166437731592024-03-12T22:58:21.636-07:00Buzzing JupiterJenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.comBlogger173125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-39984625105479126702022-01-16T16:19:00.001-08:002022-01-16T16:19:39.659-08:00Warrior > Worrier <p><span style="font-size: large;"> in - spi - ra - tion </span></p><p>1. the process of being mentally stimulated to do or feel something, especially to do something creative. </p><p>2. a sudden brilliant, creative or timely idea. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxHsL5BadiUkUY4Uztad-U81k-Wtyw0__3TAZP9CINT1ztL6tYSDWu2ewB0_NZ7K19ozB2P1kEI3-XBYEXv0FQf5e5keU_xtt-X3j1JKp_LVqa8REVMOQ8CpdOtPNHc1rSNP4MjSgzW4UOuRX7W3r4jA4mkngEbilejeVqXMBQ8dVGOJYPG92MRcAl=s954" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="954" data-original-width="608" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxHsL5BadiUkUY4Uztad-U81k-Wtyw0__3TAZP9CINT1ztL6tYSDWu2ewB0_NZ7K19ozB2P1kEI3-XBYEXv0FQf5e5keU_xtt-X3j1JKp_LVqa8REVMOQ8CpdOtPNHc1rSNP4MjSgzW4UOuRX7W3r4jA4mkngEbilejeVqXMBQ8dVGOJYPG92MRcAl=s320" width="204" /></a></div><p><br /></p><p>When was the last time you felt motivated? What gets you pumped? How do you spell 'inspiration'? </p><p>I can't stand over here and pretend that changing your mindset isn't difficult. Sometimes it's easy to get caught in the everyday life; the sleeping in, the ordering out, the procrastinating, the "I'll do it tomorrow." But there's a difference between the people who say those things to themselves, and the people who cut those habits out. There can be no progress without some form of discomfort. It isn't worth it unless there is. Everyone knows the Glow-up can't happen over night. You gotta work for it, you gotta strive for it, you gotta make things uncomfortable, you gotta reach farther than you ever have in order to obtain the goals you set for yourself. This is what needs to be recognized and practiced to the fullest. </p><p>One thing that I believe everyone can relate to, is the disdain one feels when we accomplish nothing. I get tired of restarting, of re-convincing myself that the next week will be different. I want to KNOW I'm making a difference. I want to KNOW I've turned a corner. I want to SEE the results - I want to FEEEL the results. I want to wake up in the morning and hit the ground running with excitement and the anticipation of what's to come because I know I'm gonna surpass myself the day before. Then and only then will I know that I'm becoming the character I want to be. Setting goals, accomplishing them and striving for more. A lot of things seem difficult before they seem easy, but isn't that what makes it worth having once you obtain it? The fact that you put in that work, and paved the way for yourself? That payoff hit different when you've done it for yourself. If you fell down yesterday, stand up today. </p><p>"Every passing minute is a chance to turn it all around."</p><p>Wait on it. The new me is loading...</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpBFM-1A5PxJvyu58m9q2Uib8hiALXogg7_t264qPrLa8kXz_nRw3CPSvm4jQe5wR7twK6YkrUOPIH1Ia-CInTD7FUi9w80OJMCaLy7KFtY0wCx0cGgb9cPHdkAFqQz9fIMn8aTlsZ1bsiHutvIYvdhe6MT_9KJwvhPTHSvxlNmPy2Hf0XKctlApwW=s900" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="900" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhpBFM-1A5PxJvyu58m9q2Uib8hiALXogg7_t264qPrLa8kXz_nRw3CPSvm4jQe5wR7twK6YkrUOPIH1Ia-CInTD7FUi9w80OJMCaLy7KFtY0wCx0cGgb9cPHdkAFqQz9fIMn8aTlsZ1bsiHutvIYvdhe6MT_9KJwvhPTHSvxlNmPy2Hf0XKctlApwW=s320" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-68965973459069554792021-09-28T15:19:00.002-07:002021-09-28T15:19:11.721-07:00Still or Stagnant?<p> It feels kinda cheap to try and fit the last five years into a disheveled bunch of paragraphs. It contained a lot of learning, a lot of emotional pain, and a lot of memories - <i>the happy kind</i>, that I can carry with me until I die. I'm grateful for all experiences, even if they weren't all that pleasant. Life forces us to grow when we aren't prepared to do so. Reluctance is quite the pill to swallow. But what is one to do? Especially if time waits for no man.</p><p>Staying stagnant can be death by boredom, yet remaining still can be enlightenment by Buddhism. The paradox of life and love is enough to make you wanna hoist yourself over the Ben Franklin bridge. The perfect blend of mental and emotional Yin & Yang. <i>'Good grief, Charlie Brown...' </i> I feel like there's so many unwritten laws, so many unwritten rules, the do's and don'ts of grief or dating, work place satire or first date etiquettes. </p><p>That run-on sentence should be enough to indicate where <b>I</b> am at mentally & emotionally. Am I coming?Am I going? I dunno. Not entirely certain. Am I still or am I stagnant?? Another question for the stars. Another question to go unanswered. That is, until I can answer it for myself. </p><p>(Too much, too fast)</p><p>Cheers!</p>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-84733487510252180082021-09-09T11:31:00.001-07:002021-09-09T11:31:28.084-07:00Five Trips Around The Sun<p> To say it’s been a while would be an understatement. </p><p>They say you become a different person by simply walking across the room to retrieve something. Upon returning to where you started, even that small journey, has changed you slightly. So if that’s to be true, how seasoned do you predict me to be now? </p><p>::smiles:: </p><p>I’m going to return with a bouquet of beautifully agonizing words that will pose as a summed up version of the events that have taken place since I last left you guys. <i>(Or, mainly just my personal digital footprints. My virtual journey for this virtual life) </i></p><p>Stay tuned…</p>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-74667028335511228622016-01-14T12:28:00.000-08:002016-01-14T12:31:38.614-08:00Paoli'sCalifornia has been a trip!<br />
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While what brought me out west is still very much thriving, my three year sentence has been a delightful one. I've missed some events back home, I've missed some people too but what I lost in time I gained in heart. One year longer than I had anticipated out here and it was by far the best one!<br />
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I worked at Paoli's!<br />
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While I pride myself at being a pretty damn good server, but I'd never worked at an Italian establishment before. More than that, I'd never worked at an Italian-Karaoke establishment. AND EVEN MORE THAN THAT -- I'd never worked at an Italian/Karaoke/Dive Bar/that pays entirely under the table before! Maaaann, what an experience it is.<br />
I've met some interesting characters, made new friends, and upped my singing potential by at least 50%. Haha<br />
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My last day of duty was this past Sunday, almost a week ago. It was hard to say goodbye to my regulars, so I didn't. I said farewell to one of my favorite singers, Larry and his lovely wife, and I slipped away. Some people know I'm having an event on Saturday, so maybe they'll show up and I'll get a chance to say goodbye. <i>I suppose I <b>had</b> the chance</i>. Ahh, farewells make me all watery in the eye region. I don't always like to do it. <br />
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My feet have never hurt so much, but my pockets have never been fatter either. Hustle was the name of the game since Paoli's doesn't have any up to date POS system. It's all 80's style, handwritten checks, one-on-one with the cooks... Headless chickens is what we were! With no busboys, hosts, food runners, or cashier to speak of, we often played the part of multitasking extremely well! Some of us worked harder than others... Ahem. Got a pretty <a href="http://www.yelp.com/biz/paolis-pizzeria-and-piano-bar-woodland-hills?hrid=GCCVrrmzGRvqwO9Z6hJNGg&utm_campaign=www_review_share_popup&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_source=(direct)" target="_blank">kickass review</a> on one of the worse nights of my working career.<br />
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Talk about a place with some sass! Great money was made though. The most money I've made in my adult life--in my entire life! It was wonderful, a wonderful experience with <i>in retrospect</i> wonderful people.<br />
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The lady that ran the joint* is a 65+ firecracker and we all considered her the Madam. Such sarcastic grace and wit. Really a 'no-bullshit, take it or leave it' sort of a woman. She made such an impression that I created a website for the restaurant free of charge.<br />
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( <a href="http://www.paolipizzeria.wordpress.com/">www.paolipizzeria.wordpress.com</a> ) The place deserved online presence, especially because it didn't have any. So if you're ever in the great Valley of Los Angeles, give this diamond in the ruff a go. Great food, great people, great voices, great times.</div>
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I'll always have love for ya, Paoli's!!<br />
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*That's how dicey and special this place is. Gotta refer to it as a "joint".</div>
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Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-86516049036860620362015-10-20T10:10:00.001-07:002015-10-20T10:10:54.433-07:00Killing Time Murders OpportunitiesHave I ever mentioned how much I hate ticking clocks? Nothing like a second to second reminder that time is passing you by while you sit blankly, idly wondering how you can make the most of your, <i>that's right</i>, <b>time</b>. <div><br></div><div>It's just a distraction. And what do we have to show for it? Continued thoughts that eventually branch off into a tree of uncertainty and trivial pursuits?? </div><div><br></div><div>No thank you. I want to rip it off the wall and replace it with a crayon drawn clock that never changes. It can be 4:20 or 5:00 all the live long day. </div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>That's all I've got for you currently. Go check out my naughty stuff, I find that more fulfilling than casual conversations about the weather or clocks that go tick-tock. </div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-16415839947876954412015-10-15T11:40:00.001-07:002015-10-15T11:40:52.560-07:00Autumn Love<p style="line-height: 28.799999237060547px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Green leaves shedding its life, turning from orange to red.</span></p><p style="line-height: 28.799999237060547px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Beautifully complimenting the sky, the colors that bled.</span></p><p style="line-height: 28.799999237060547px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Cinnamon sparks the smell of the apple cider.</span></p><p style="line-height: 28.799999237060547px;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Wrapping around the fuzzy quilt, sitting beside the fire. </span></p><div>Watch as the flames lick and crack before our eyes.</div><div><br></div><div>Sipping on the warmth, yet feeling chilly to my surprise.</div><div><br></div><div>Give me your arms, let them enfold a shivering me.</div><div><br></div><div>Having the fire inside now, 'cause you don't feel what I see. </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0BG-r0UzIwYghl6mFJ5uHOfEqnSoWPIN_FGNEx5qt0s8hdFb82QK7KvhHc691bZnCLmrC0oY0hYuBvBSMqjn-Fk5ZpnE8yB70e-GmhtcUqJC2vsoDUhZXtgbD-Zbm3Cx0J6RN3nQIdE/s640/blogger-image-177841487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0BG-r0UzIwYghl6mFJ5uHOfEqnSoWPIN_FGNEx5qt0s8hdFb82QK7KvhHc691bZnCLmrC0oY0hYuBvBSMqjn-Fk5ZpnE8yB70e-GmhtcUqJC2vsoDUhZXtgbD-Zbm3Cx0J6RN3nQIdE/s640/blogger-image-177841487.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div><br></div><div>If you enjoy my work here on Buzzing Jupiter, check out some of my naughtier stuff at Sex Sez. </div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-13148288628264660222015-10-08T12:30:00.000-07:002015-10-08T12:43:58.149-07:00Sing Jhene Life, as it usually does after 14, has been zooming pass. Never enough time for this or that, that or this, or even the occasional "fuck it, I'm doing nothing today" mood. In addition to the many writings and creations I've been, well, creating, I've been back to exercising my vocals.<br />
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Sometime last year I was prompted by a friend to give an LA local a listen. She goes by the name of Jhene Aiko and her voice is beautiful. Her lyrics are raw and real. And her sense of grace is matched with her down-to-earth/matter-of-factly urban aura. She's hippie flowerchild meets strong city gal, and me likes it. I relate to her lyrics about love, death, and casual sex. It's nice to hear a woman sing so openly about her emotions and sexual desires. </div>
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Below are the two songs I've been attempting to perfect. Currently my two favorite songs to sing.* Sexy, smooth, and honest. </div>
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http://youtu.be/BKHx9F2UlXQ < - - - "Drinking & Driving"<br />
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http://youtu.be/BaeO_Wf6kKI < - - - "Living Room Flow"<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*HAIM not included. </span></div>
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Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-88728752755698367182015-09-16T10:11:00.000-07:002015-09-16T10:11:15.716-07:00So Many Hats, Not Enough HeadsOh me, oh my!<br />
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So much to report, I can't catch my breath. Ya see, when you wear many hats... ya just don't have enough heads for them. haha I've been dipping my fingers in several soups, as they say.<br />
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--Loud Pack<br />
--Dizzy-Eyed Fillmore<br />
--Sex Sez<br />
--Studying for Permit Test and brushing up on my Cocktail & Beer Knowledge<br />
--Going to become a part of Xio Axelrod's Street Team. Viva la Xiomaniacs!! Viva erotica!!<br />
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All while attempting to save money for the big push back East and the general workings of living life. Bah! But life is good, I'm happy and really can't wait to be back home and in my city. I crave the independence<i> (no pun intended) </i>and the good money I stacked. Most of all I miss my family and friends, the leisurely feeling of beer delivery, and the convenience of loved ones only being, at most, an hour away.<br />
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I've been working on my fitness, upping my health, drinking less*! Feels good. I'll probably die just trying to slow down. haha Imagine that. :-) Welp, I'll leave ya to it and go back to it myself. I'll update again soon.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*For the most part... I still drink more than the average bear, but muuuch less than I used to. :) Baby steps. Progression is good. ;p</span>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-11123201469154376202015-08-24T19:12:00.001-07:002015-08-24T19:12:39.871-07:00Soul Rain<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZ6Keri9A3D9_toHAWz3kDXzdHNjaC0_zeJCw7WNy7Nm3fov6dBS4nKStXNe3o8JAnbZeY6o1U5P36xo-pEs2PamfJEvC11FTrThK9T7NQ2y29PVnfJ3c0dZiRoCfuv4ogbQ17KhPpUc/s640/blogger-image--1940928358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIZ6Keri9A3D9_toHAWz3kDXzdHNjaC0_zeJCw7WNy7Nm3fov6dBS4nKStXNe3o8JAnbZeY6o1U5P36xo-pEs2PamfJEvC11FTrThK9T7NQ2y29PVnfJ3c0dZiRoCfuv4ogbQ17KhPpUc/s640/blogger-image--1940928358.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">You know the saying "Don't cry over spilled milk"? Well, you can relate that with the above statement. There's something so very nice about a person who can get wet and not complain. Afterall, it's only water. Water dries and so does your personality when you bitch and complain about some moisture on your skin. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Walk inbetween the rain drops, kiss under the falling droplets, and splash into puddles. Say "Yes!" to oppportunities and "No!" to people who are plastic. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Perspective can change everything, including a drab rainy day. Be the colors you want in your life.</div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-15646645337731799072015-08-03T10:13:00.001-07:002015-08-03T10:13:52.307-07:00A Bunch of NothingSo I've been having a pretty good time this summer expanding my mind and getting back into meditation. It's come in handy in a lot of instances. Helps with anger a lot too. <i>Not that I have an issue with that... really. It's just stupid people! </i><div><br></div><div>Whatever-the-case, I've been meditating, I've been writing, I've been stretching before & after bed, and I've been progressing with my whole "I'm 30 and I think I can be a rapper" ordeal. <i>Not so much that I think that I can become Lauryn Hill, as much as it just makes me feel good. Spoken word. Any & all sorts of poetry</i>. </div><div>So while that's been happening with me, I feel the people around me (near and far) have either been dropping the ball on life or totally killin' it. So in that regard; Boo and Yay! </div><div><br></div><div>I don't think I have much to say today, just checking in. As you can see in the previous post I've been fucking around with a new, yet familiar platform. SEX, baby!!</div><div>It's what I love, it's one of the things I do best, and something I know mucho much about. :) I've always enjoyed giving advice, and I've always enjoyed sexual things. What better way than to join the two? </div><div><br></div><div>sexsez.wordpress.com <--- Check it out during your free time, see if I or any of my guest writers can get your juices flowin'.</div><div><br></div><div>That's it in a nutshell. ;)</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div>I hope all is well with everyone. Stay tuned! </div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-30130697383612649252015-08-02T16:18:00.001-07:002015-08-02T16:18:53.812-07:00Sex Sez<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga-BFHOzKVCqe4TZ3EwIEWpdzuvvz1DED7rd_U_NTQKjed2zIUqtS6TEQiuNSyt3JjTNFnxN99KY3eu7wvDGKEiQSFShgFwqMK-FhJppy96Mx0zPvwn5rdyJo9AdQJWDFNw7YVZP8c92o/s640/blogger-image--2048742731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEga-BFHOzKVCqe4TZ3EwIEWpdzuvvz1DED7rd_U_NTQKjed2zIUqtS6TEQiuNSyt3JjTNFnxN99KY3eu7wvDGKEiQSFShgFwqMK-FhJppy96Mx0zPvwn5rdyJo9AdQJWDFNw7YVZP8c92o/s640/blogger-image--2048742731.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I've created something naughty... Tune in to sexsez.wordpress.com for all your after hour needs.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">I'll be waiting.</div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-45373335659240769142015-05-19T14:34:00.000-07:002015-05-19T14:55:04.651-07:00Forever be Always<br>
<br>
She can remember the way the wind blew that day. A comforting chill met with the soothing afterglow of the sun's rays. The moment she had goosebumps it was washed away with the warm antipation of his touch. A touch she hadn't ever experienced, though their previous tantalizing dialogue gave her much to look forward to. And she did.<br>
<br>
She knew the moment she saw him in real life, the moment she caught a glimpse of him appear beyond the automatic sliding doors, that she really liked him. He quickly retreated from sight and began again, walking along the airport pavement. <i>Could he be nervous?</i> It was an admirable thing too, because so was she. And if he were nervous, that means he liked her too. The months of back & forth written conversation had swooped her up like a pleasant tornado. Whirling and whipping her through the many possibilities of endless love and passionate elation.<br>
<br>
Her clammy hands gripped her luggage, as she exhaled one last time before being greeted with the sun. It wasn't until she turned her head left, that she saw the insouciant man sitting before her with a bouquet of smiling roses, one rose with a celestial charm.<br><br>
The two strangers grinned at each other with a koi sense of familiarity. The sense that they've been incessantly pondering over the other from the moment the seed of intrigue was planted. She was ready to unload nearly sixteen weeks of lust. <br>
Sixteen weeks of intimate, persuading words. <br>
Sixteen weeks of wondering if this could turn into something substancial.<br>
Sixteen weeks of feeling completely weightless.<br>
Sixteen weeks of marinating in sexual anticipation.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRfPioowlUCj_E0SWtCwuoFPUUC49WljnRCSUx2FYRNhFtJpgPU9NGjLj62IkGFAVbHuL-1tZe5FZF1O6bZlp9WpnVno28mQQrrYbHKvOf7cVxpPNh-BVbEv4CCjQaR1m1h2eeCg-rro/s640/blogger-image--1239032774.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYRfPioowlUCj_E0SWtCwuoFPUUC49WljnRCSUx2FYRNhFtJpgPU9NGjLj62IkGFAVbHuL-1tZe5FZF1O6bZlp9WpnVno28mQQrrYbHKvOf7cVxpPNh-BVbEv4CCjQaR1m1h2eeCg-rro/s640/blogger-image--1239032774.jpg"></a></div><br>
And there they were. Moving closer and closer to each other. The closest they've ever been, but not the closest they'll ever get. <div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzpm-h0T-8Nj6T2-dxyahazjXPMrbVSXYf3LyAqoycnAyvRe7bZo1Q6Xru2Z37GjPpmVgyMEptcQlboVPIOMcitDP7g-M6rr_eneemJZCqbmrxvcgT8kU3MpN22_6H59tRe35OfDe_Bog/s640/blogger-image-1023012512.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzpm-h0T-8Nj6T2-dxyahazjXPMrbVSXYf3LyAqoycnAyvRe7bZo1Q6Xru2Z37GjPpmVgyMEptcQlboVPIOMcitDP7g-M6rr_eneemJZCqbmrxvcgT8kU3MpN22_6H59tRe35OfDe_Bog/s640/blogger-image-1023012512.jpg"></a></div><br></div>She recognized something in herself that day. In contempt of previous heartbreaks, the Hopeless Romantic in her had still survived. She had been trying to deny falling for someone whom she'd never physically met before, but laying there under the spinning ceiling fan with her knees to the sky, she was unable to deny any longer. It was already there, and it had already blossomed. <br>
<br>
She loved him. <br>
<br>
It had been a gradual ascension, from the way he laced his words together whilst describing his love for garlic, to the electricity in how he held her when they kissed. It was everything and it was everywhere. The way his hair fell unfastidiously, the slow calming motion in which smoke left his lips, even the simplicity of him asking her to choose a record. He had the sly wisdom of a Buddhist Monk and the sexual aptitude of a Tantric Master. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9g1dVXZ6MaB9PxYzP36gigqxtPI5fxaGbKNllS9ZVKmekyrihDLLmBpNMX5WXt-BjStsgdnHt8oV8RQxyi3CzYmKGNB88Nc0BRls0py8DhWldKYuKdlRIGRA3PUuTFoMoov9EZ05D04E/s640/blogger-image--365509059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9g1dVXZ6MaB9PxYzP36gigqxtPI5fxaGbKNllS9ZVKmekyrihDLLmBpNMX5WXt-BjStsgdnHt8oV8RQxyi3CzYmKGNB88Nc0BRls0py8DhWldKYuKdlRIGRA3PUuTFoMoov9EZ05D04E/s640/blogger-image--365509059.jpg"></a></div>She was more than charmed by him, and she was pretty certain he was sweet on her as well. The look in his eyes never suggested anything less than the innoucous love she had always longed for.<br>
<br>
<br>
They let each other in during those ten days they spent together. A week and a half designated to momentous sex, glorious food, and the shared love for marijuana, video games, vinyl records, cartoons & "The Three Stooges". It was an experience she found to be beyond blissful.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfM6hrxuixCmBaCe_wp5o5PqnqkDnivV0Pv_3wJ3gNdQk2stGhwM-d5geJNTfOlnDHqdNaIRcK2RIVx_7itaifjDW2WcLOWsbEXyoBVapUKcJSMzNQjC3BSMy4-wA82JEgjFAL-Sqyp8/s640/blogger-image--861000745.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRfM6hrxuixCmBaCe_wp5o5PqnqkDnivV0Pv_3wJ3gNdQk2stGhwM-d5geJNTfOlnDHqdNaIRcK2RIVx_7itaifjDW2WcLOWsbEXyoBVapUKcJSMzNQjC3BSMy4-wA82JEgjFAL-Sqyp8/s640/blogger-image--861000745.jpg"></a></div>The time continued, some weeks and some months spent apart in preparation for their eager future together. The distance proved worthy when he picked her up from the airport for the last time. .... For the most part, for the last time...<br>
<br>
<br>
...such was life for the once strangers turned star-gazed lovers. The days were spent yearning for the other, the thoughtless nights spent in each others arms, sprawled in sexual oasis, drinking wines, eating delicious fruits and indulging in succulent meats. Their very own naked paradise.<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULsOmHkZLeRLAsa6bbStPsiY79iphXxL2L2oZ19M8jqvHFfJtoMtS4-Riq9mK8VCVU3962vLapiwAAa514kTlk10ovx-FFoZnONn15R7wC1Lthj0rjkJeH_8h-mX6i6o_Fdtx2vOlPoI/s640/blogger-image-310317203.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgULsOmHkZLeRLAsa6bbStPsiY79iphXxL2L2oZ19M8jqvHFfJtoMtS4-Riq9mK8VCVU3962vLapiwAAa514kTlk10ovx-FFoZnONn15R7wC1Lthj0rjkJeH_8h-mX6i6o_Fdtx2vOlPoI/s640/blogger-image-310317203.jpg"></a></div>And it remained this way year after year, with little turbulence. Trips up and down the vast California mountain, ripples across the gentle Catalina sea, summer nights in impossible Philadelphia heat, drunken Arkansas evenings, and beaming with stupor at the stars spilled over the Nevada night sky.<br>
Their time spent together was fructiferous and profuse with affection, even during arid stages, the matter of love was never questioned. <br>
The habitual throes of any romantic relationship took place, but they each found solace in the warmth of each other's company, further proving to one another that their love was evolving. Beyond being copacetic, they were reconnecting in a way they hadn't in longer than both of them wanted to admit. <br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5whqhYR4Re3GHcmOghkHaP3j6nT_DMaNDYdLUPxpNPQXUyAAPYKyYdYlluMKt4TANy1PlBCf6w0nj6rKxF_csP_WhU5ax-eVMJGXGQTgE3cUqbTy4f99E6o968L9a-1dhJer4c3Wiu9M/s640/blogger-image--2048969454.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5whqhYR4Re3GHcmOghkHaP3j6nT_DMaNDYdLUPxpNPQXUyAAPYKyYdYlluMKt4TANy1PlBCf6w0nj6rKxF_csP_WhU5ax-eVMJGXGQTgE3cUqbTy4f99E6o968L9a-1dhJer4c3Wiu9M/s640/blogger-image--2048969454.jpg"></a></div>She recognizes how they both can get stuck in their heads, a skull of indifference and complex obstacles, and she is always grateful when he rescues her from her own self-doubt. So when he needs her to do the same, she will not falter in rescuing him like he has for her times before. <br>
She'll tell him that she still falls for him every single day. And that if a single kiss could translate her love for him, they'd be kissing for an eternity. She would remind him of the way he can still fascinate her by pointing out constellations in the dark indigo sky. The way he can still make her feel precious by baby-talking in half words and sentences. The way he can still make her blush after groping her in public. The way she can feel him get high when he breaths deeply from her skin. The way her heart whispers when he cuddles up to her. The way he exposed her to sushi! The way he got her a stepping stool, but she secretly still wants him to get things for her anyway...<br>
<br><br>
<br>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hVDTHuztt4evqhKCno5vW3XhDBe3CZ7rtMxZjajWBSv_0LFZBN5DMr7Jy6XB-HQOYE5SDVgcNHfd8n5cgHBz_rx8yhaIBjDfEschY8CCs-DdfYnV7WYz_i5VtjL4uIbrM3y2dv8U_oQ/s640/blogger-image-1631350405.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9hVDTHuztt4evqhKCno5vW3XhDBe3CZ7rtMxZjajWBSv_0LFZBN5DMr7Jy6XB-HQOYE5SDVgcNHfd8n5cgHBz_rx8yhaIBjDfEschY8CCs-DdfYnV7WYz_i5VtjL4uIbrM3y2dv8U_oQ/s640/blogger-image-1631350405.jpg"></a></div><div><br></div>The way he will forever be her always. <3 <3 <3<br>
<ul>
<li><br></li>
</ul>
</div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-2173950595106648682015-04-07T17:17:00.002-07:002015-04-07T17:46:09.321-07:00Rainy Day In L.A.<br>
<br><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MDELFpACq5nVu7M5lZie8QYNHkj4Ga_B_fQq1a-6Af2Es44lVU66sl9YkcAxfb9LpXHCoZ9TSOj2xcYcHy6JEdxemwJffxFWkdt-LPsW9lsA1WdfmDg_06vPZ5aNs1qMxVLoGyAMEZ4/s640/blogger-image-1755339618.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MDELFpACq5nVu7M5lZie8QYNHkj4Ga_B_fQq1a-6Af2Es44lVU66sl9YkcAxfb9LpXHCoZ9TSOj2xcYcHy6JEdxemwJffxFWkdt-LPsW9lsA1WdfmDg_06vPZ5aNs1qMxVLoGyAMEZ4/s640/blogger-image-1755339618.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The sun tries to come out, breaking free through the clouds.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Tiny rays shouting, wanting to be heard, aloud. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Earth getting flooded. It's been so long.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The wonderful beloved rain has fell, from our song.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Our dance, our cries, our sweat, our tears.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">The rain left the skies like it hadn't left in years. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Falling with such suspense, smiling all the way down.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto;">Giving my skin a rinse, before settling on the ground.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">Inspiration flows when it's a rainy day in L.A.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);">And the stars know it's also much too rare to sleep it away.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><br></span></div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-72416806635833524112015-04-02T15:10:00.001-07:002015-05-28T17:43:23.121-07:00Jasmine-Tealed Void<div><br></div><div><font color="#000000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRo4mldkNRArlNW4VC4Lf7X9wSBdu-M0-a3dtNI0sl8_7JnBhiApI1XtAeGRF6AO4KlZuH4js8zmtkJxiE5RMLOINDsiKokie7J6LXXaO8Q5zCCDQTh9-sz6aVnjxOIJh2kjZpq-EvaI/s640/blogger-image--1812923318.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; -webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0);"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJRo4mldkNRArlNW4VC4Lf7X9wSBdu-M0-a3dtNI0sl8_7JnBhiApI1XtAeGRF6AO4KlZuH4js8zmtkJxiE5RMLOINDsiKokie7J6LXXaO8Q5zCCDQTh9-sz6aVnjxOIJh2kjZpq-EvaI/s640/blogger-image--1812923318.jpg"></a></font></div><div><br></div>Fill the void. <div>It's been some time since it were full.</div><div>Abrupt asteroid.</div><div>Conqured by division - push and pull.</div><div><br></div><div>I've found a home here.</div><div>Here in this desert valley.</div><div>Through darkness it's clear.</div><div>Jasmine tealed auras in Cali. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div><div>Spread the colors from coast to coast.</div><div>If you believe it to be so.</div><div>Filling the void is much to boast.</div><div>When you're way farther than "Go!"</div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-36681892183320016172015-04-02T12:27:00.000-07:002015-04-02T12:27:54.949-07:00Time, You Killjoy Oh how the time flies...<br />
<br />
I won't even begin to make excuses for myself as to why I haven't been updating and writing more. Just know that I've been busy as all hell, cashing in that mulah. Making pretty big bucks* The inspirado is creeping into my system. I've been feeling more and more like writing and with the arrival of my little brother in a couple weeks, my rhyming game is going to have to be in tip top shape. Ha! I mean, let's face it, it <b>always</b> is, but everything needs a little polishing every now & then.<br />
<br />
As I sharpen the tool that is my brain, I suck down a very deep breath filled with Blue Dream Sativa, and am overwhelmed by the sense that everything will be okay. All the recordings, the filming, the writing, the sleeping, and the plan making--it'll all happen in its own time.<br />
Maybe I needed a hiatus to generate the inspiration I have acquired. <br />
<br />
Time, time, time...<br />
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Time will certainly tell, won't it?<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">*By my standards, at least.</span>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-39060998974686153672015-01-13T08:46:00.001-08:002015-05-28T17:43:29.640-07:00Loud Pack E.M.P. - State Of MindMy Philly trip was a successful venture. Got to do some recordings for <br>
my side hustle <a href="https://soundcloud.com/loudpackemp" target="_blank">Loud Pack E.M.P.</a>, made it onto the Mixtape "8th of Loud" <br>
and even got a chance to be featured in my little brother's mixtape and <br>
video! Below is the video for "State of Mind". <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/ANVRyMCkzKw" width="480"></iframe><br>
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Rhyming words is fun.<br>
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Be sure to check out the <a href="http://loudpackemp.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Loud Pack page</a>. Like and share our shit. Tank Q! Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-89712149326651743602014-11-20T13:04:00.001-08:002014-11-20T13:04:16.412-08:00Got Sex?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Just in time for the</b> </span><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: large;"><i>holidaze</i></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">..</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>A very exclusive sneak peek of my</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;"><i>Relationship</i></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-weight: bold;"> <i><span style="font-size: large;">Advice</span></i> / </span><i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Sex</span></i> <i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Blog!</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>Fun, dirty, & creative coming soon to a computer screen near you.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-small;"><b>hang onto your butts...</b></span></div>
<br />Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-72343037603260646112014-11-20T12:50:00.001-08:002015-05-28T17:43:36.327-07:00Sugar-coated Bullshit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsEaC4y1nHDTBmIx4-aRxYTQvZbBIgF0Sm53rRDEBOyObxI4NBRUjpY7kyuhWojNni3Xf8-S999qNhzhIKepMLlyOChrVU_CMzRnqkUHFUmciujkdqS8UOIVNfbfrUaso3_HHUu2eJro/s1600/blue-flower-flowers-pink-Favim.com-1056484.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYsEaC4y1nHDTBmIx4-aRxYTQvZbBIgF0Sm53rRDEBOyObxI4NBRUjpY7kyuhWojNni3Xf8-S999qNhzhIKepMLlyOChrVU_CMzRnqkUHFUmciujkdqS8UOIVNfbfrUaso3_HHUu2eJro/s1600/blue-flower-flowers-pink-Favim.com-1056484.jpg" height="213" width="320"></a></div>
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The funny thing about bullshit is that when someone is called out on it, THEY are the ones that're offended. How does that work? You tried to essentially lie to me, and I exposed your "facts" as folly, and <b>you</b> are the one that's taken back?! Can you please explain to me how? </div>
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I may smile politely or nod along to keep the conversation going, especially with new Bullshitters that I've just met. I like to get a feel for people, and the extent of their bullshit, before continuing on. And that's not to say that I just assume everyone is bullshitting me. You can feel it. There's an energy there. Sometimes it isn't that they're bullshitting others, but actually bullshitting themselves as well. </div>
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Those are the professionals because they've been consumed by their bullshit and believe it thoroughly. These sort of people generally have bad juju around them, and that's not to say that they're bad people, they just unconsciously deny themselves the chance of a freer life because they can't face the truth. Whatever the truth may be. No matter how deep it may be. Usually involving insecurities of their own that they project in various "smoke & mirrors" sort of way.</div>
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These sort of people dislike people such as myself because, while I still don't have it all figured out, I do at the very least, know myself outstandingly well. And they're envious of such an accomplishment. It takes much time and introspection to learn oneself, and it isn't always easy figuring out and/or facing the truth about the way you are or think.<br>
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Staying optimistic is always the best option, although being bitter and sarcastic has it's comedic relief too. I just try to stay away from these Bullshitters that cloud my energy. They're also capable of stealing your energy, should you let them. And that's a tricky feat in itself.<br>
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Ever feel great one moment and after an experience with another person, you feel drained and dehydrated? It could very well be a simple conversation, about simple things or simple people--but you walk away from it feeling empty and confused. What caused that? What <b><i>was</i></b> that?<br>
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The Bullshitters are offended that you don't buy their product, and the Non-Bullshitters are offended that you'd try to sell them a crappy, non-authentic product. That's bad salesmanship.<br>
You should be honest and real as often as you can, even in professional settings. Now, please don't be mistaken, I'm not suggesting that you should be disrespectful, I'm saying that you should 100% of the time be real to YOU. That means politely questioning things, even superiors. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Since when has that been illegal? </span></i>That means speaking up when something or someone is unjust. <i><span style="font-size: x-small;">You'd want someone to speak up for you.</span></i> That means being fair, even if that means you don't get the reward. Because the reward IS being fair. At least it should be.<br>
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I know I went on a tangent but it's all relative. People create these facades--these masks to wear in public, to get others to accept them, to blend in, etc., and they wear these masks for so long that they very rarely ever take them off. So when faced with someone who doesn't have those issues comes about, I swear, the Bullshitters just shut down or they bullshit even more! And a person like me gets labeled as what? Having an attitude problem, being offensive, not "staying in my place", abrasive, rebellious, angsty, indifferent? If you can't be real with someone you're supposed to be engaging with, <i>a natural exchange--not necessarily swapping life stories--although there's nothing wrong with that. Being personal is one of the best things you can be. A helluva lot better than being a bullshitter</i>, you should take a serious look at yourself and what's holding you back from just being you. And you should let those insecurities go.<br>
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No one should be a prisoner inside themselves.<br>
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And that's what you bullshitters are.<br>
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Little prisoners that drag everyone else into your dark, damp, hollow cell that you call your personality.<br>
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<br>Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-23543149095012851102014-11-12T12:22:00.001-08:002014-11-12T12:22:55.657-08:00 A Journey Into Abstract Hip-Hop <iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/3q8nGnls1Ow" width="459"></iframe><br /><br />
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Gasoline. My favorite recent accident that I stumbled upon. Takes me through several hip-hop emotions. I digs.Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-41745948499238132642014-10-07T10:16:00.002-07:002014-10-07T10:16:27.755-07:00Confused IndifferenceWhat is it that we're all looking for? And when we find it, how is it that, we end up still looking for something else? When is it ever enough? I've asked this question over and over again. Would we even be able to figure out what 'enough' is or was??<br />
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I always played the numbers game with my mental breakdowns or lack thereof. Time just makes me so complacent, no matter where I am. Ha. No matter where I am, I always feel like I should be somewhere else. Whaddaya call that?!<br />
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I'm not sure I ever really knew where my place in the world was supposed to be. It's not as if I feel like I belong anywhere. Like I belong nowhere and everywhere all at once. Leading this hurricane of emotion and curiosity towards the brink of my demise. And I know it seems slightly off, but I've been a lot more morbid than usual. Mainly at night. I've been often wondering if I'll open my eyes the next day. And I'm not too upset about it, it almost feels as if it's supposed to happen that way.<br />
But being the curious person that I am, it does make me sad because I AM unaware of what's to come. What follows death? They never come back to tell us, do they? Like it's one big surprise that everyone has to discover on their own.<br />
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Maybe it's like everyone on Earth is collecting pieces of their own puzzle. Putting them together to get the big picture. Some people complete their puzzle, some people never find the missing pieces, and some people's ending image isn't what they thought they were putting together.<br />
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I'm as rambly as a drunken sailor. Just feelin' a little under the weather emotionally, is all...<br />
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<br />Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-37222624696751130132014-10-03T19:51:00.000-07:002014-10-03T19:51:09.768-07:00The Baloo Distraction<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Okay, so I realize my absence .... hasn't been noticed by anyone. Ha! But lookie!! That furry wittle face above has been keeping me smiling and <i>(somewhat)</i> active. He's my excuse and YOUR distraction from the fact that I haven't written anything substantial in the last five months, maybe more. </div>
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It's coming. It's all coming soon. Just be patient, my pretties...</div>
Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-67023233048640967032014-05-19T18:46:00.002-07:002014-05-19T18:46:31.789-07:00Filler.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's been a little bit since the last time I tuned in. Same shit, different toilet paper. However!! I AM very much looking forward to my visit back home. One week. No work. All rest and play. I can't wait to see all my family and friends. Then of course, do what we do best... party our faces off. </div>
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Upon my return to sunny, hotter than hell itself, California, I intend to hit the job circuit harder than I've ever hit it before. Because, honestly, this can't be life. Crap pay at some Dental Lab? No, no, nooo. I think not. </div>
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Very interested in seeing what the future holds for yours truly. Welp, time to roll the dice.</div>
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<br />Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-12353147489207989792014-03-28T17:45:00.000-07:002014-03-28T17:45:07.756-07:0020Something<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've recently celebrated my very last 20-something birthday. I realize most people make bigger deals for their 21st and their 30th and so on. But I've always been a stickler for the ends of things. Because, <i>and this has been said many times</i>, when things end, you usually think about the beginning. That's the beauty of it for me. Ten years ago I had a huge Berfday bash when I turned 19...<br />
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It marked the end of my teenage years and the beginning of a new journey. I'd never have or celebrate another teenage birthday in this lifetime. It was something sad and beautiful.<br />
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Much like now. </div>
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I'll never have another 20-something birthday for as long as I live in this current existence. So here I am. Almost 30 and still swimming in the pool of limbo. So many changes life has brought to my doorstep. Some are very nice packages, wrapped beautifully and the contents are even more amazing. And others, well, they can't all be winners with giant bows of satin. The way I look at it, as long as I keep those smiles genuinely on my face, I'll know I am/was having fun. </div>
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Because that's all that really ever mattered right? Happiness? I believe so. </div>
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Party on, Wayne.</div>
<br />Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-31906892901551471492014-01-10T12:19:00.000-08:002015-05-28T17:44:59.050-07:00Bard, The JesterHad some words knocking around in my head. So I put them down on this keyboard. For you all to see:<br>
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Bard, The Jester - 'tis I.<br>
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Long way down, what do I have to show?<br>
Rusted crown, with a king that doesn't sow.<br>
Wet eyes see, the near future to be dark.<br>
What's inside of me has to establish a stone heart.<br>
On and on I go, slipping through the cut.<br>
And what do I have to show?<br>
A silenced word and a fat gut.<br>
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Trying too hard, or maybe not enough.<br>
Knowing I'm a bard, yet feeling like a scruff.<br>
Disreputable lady, only gotten by her kind.<br>
Where the grass is green and shady.<br>
Where she'll leave all of this behind. Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3955075516643773159.post-7836094336137794202013-08-22T16:28:00.000-07:002013-08-22T16:28:06.898-07:00Yeats<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"><tbody>
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<tr><td align="left">O <span>WHAT</span> to me the little room</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="1"> </a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">That was brimmed up with prayer and rest;</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="2"> </a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">He bade me out into the gloom,</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="3"> </a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">And my breast lies upon his breast.</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="4"> </a></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td align="left">O what to me my mother’s care,</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="5"><i> 5</i></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">The house where I was safe and warm;</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="6"> </a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">The shadowy blossom of my hair</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="7"> </a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">Will hide us from the bitter storm.</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="8"> </a></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td align="left">O hiding hair and dewy eyes,</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="9"> </a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">I am no more with life and death,</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="10"><i> 10</i></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">My heart upon his warm heart lies,</td><td align="right" valign="top"><span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/null" name="11"> </a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td align="left">My breath is mixed into his breath.</td></tr>
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Jenny Jupiterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01954567432677974854noreply@blogger.com1