AMBIVATION

I used to have this thing once, I think I can remember the word... hmm, oh there it goes! It was called motivation. That silly little four syllable word. It went very well with that other word, that I have a lot of... three syllables.... mmm... starts with an "A"... derrr... AMBITION--aha!
Yes, yes. What is either without the other? What is having drive without being driven, or driving--or just moving?? Just an idle entity with endless thoughts, that never manifest.

There's a fine line between desiring personal achievement and actually executing it. I get lost in the very middle. It took me some time to decide which of my quirky little artistic abilities I wanted to hone in on and actually dedicate myself to. Once I realized which ones meant the most to me, it should've been easy from there, right? Well, maybe not easy, but definitely should've set me on the right track. But ya see, I ping pong. I'll begin a novel and when I hit a wall, I'll bounce over to painting. Then once that painting is complete, I'll pick up my vocal training again. Then once I've nailed a song to my liking, I'll want to learn a new dance choreography. Once that whole bit is done, maybe I've gotten some new material and will want to either A) Finish a script I started or B) Create an entire new script. All the while--completely forgetting, consciously or subconsciously, about my original goal--which was to complete my novel. Or anything I begin, for that matter...

It's a slippery slope and that good friend of mine, Mr. Five Syllable Word; procrastination--has kept me nice and toasty for some time. "I'll do it tomorrow", should be tattooed on my goddamn forehead.
And just like the sign in the bar that reads; "Free beer tomorrow"... tomorrow is never today. And tomorrow continues to be tomorrow, for---::looks at watch-less wrist::---years now. I suppose the lack of help from my friends & peers doesn't exactly light a fire under my ass, and it's an excuse I've been cosying up with for quite some time. I can't put the blame on my fellow unmotivated pals, though, completing a project would be eons faster and more entertaining with others who actually gave a damn. But it's gotta start within me. If I give a damn, I'll put the effort into finding others that give a damn. And dammit, that's what I need to do.

One thing, turning my scary age has taught me, is to just get up and go.* Get up and do. And as I ascend to a point in my life that makes me extremely happy, I'm finding inspiration and motivation coming easier. Almost as if, once I stopped focusing on how unfocused I was, I zeroed in on 'doing' and that has raised my stock immensely.**
One of these days*** I'm going to go back over all of my 20 years of writing. I'm going to edit it, I'm going to most importantly, finish it and I'm going to begin submitting again. I remember having such a thrill when competing and/or mailing my little words to Anthologies! Then the rush of winning, or making top 10, or being published and seeing your brainchild printed on pages you didn't print. :)
The feeling of hoping that your words inspire or help someone. Then follows the feeling of not just hoping that your words inspire, but knowing that they do.

I miss that.







*Then again, no other age has ever stopped me before.
**Just need to get that punctuation, run-on sentence & basic full mechanics of writing back down. I'm ten years out of class. And barely attended then. Damn... so that means I'm roughly 13 years out. Tisk, tisk. I need to take a fucking english course again. hahah! Ahhh, rambling.. ramble, rambles. They call me Mr. Bo-Rambles. 
***Oh, here we go again...

Benedict Arnold

Mothers and daughters, mothers and daughters... 

I tell ya! There's a certain amount of self-righteousness going on around here that I'm not fully equipped   to handle or be exposed to. What the fuck is this shit? Your guilty conscience gets the best of you when confronted by a 3rd party and I'm automatically to blame, eh? It couldn't have ANYTHING to do with your complete predictable pattern of jumping ship anytime things get emotionally hard, right? Ha! This is laughable! And so are you! Preaching scriptures on public websites, then walking, and talking, a totally different tight rope. Get your shit together. Your problems aren't mine, though there was a time when I'd take them on right there with you. Let's not pretend you haven't turned your back on your children before, and would likely do it again if the right swinging dick with the plump bank account came along. 

I love how funny people act when the taste of salty inaccuracy fills their mouth. Choking the spirit, and therefore tangling their words. Leaving them with nothing to fucking say. Nothing at all but extra air in their mouth. Exactly! Shut the fuck up and just don't tell me your dirt. 

Better yet---how about not create any. That IS what a good woman does right? Someone raised me to understand that. I don't know what happened to her...

The Fool Rambles

So, you know that feeling when you're really dirty and sweaty after a long day of working or being outside and doing.. ..Oh I dunno, something like gardening work or building a small village? And you come home and take that nice shower? Well, whether you get your 'oohs and ahhs' from the feeling of the cool water hitting your skin, or the feeling of stepping out of the shower & that refreshing air hitting you...but that's precisely how I'm feeling right now. However you wanna play it or say it. That's me right now. He makes me feel like "first water contact/after shower fresh air". A complete plateau of enticing, overjoyed happiness. Escalating with every passing second. Just getting better and better. Mmmmf! So much better and better. ::makes eye squinting happy face::
My, my, the joy! He is so over the top sexy and funny and smart, I can't help but profess my complete admiration for him. He deserves every word and every thought, and definitely every kiss.

It's one of those things where I feel amazed simply at the idea of him existing. And something that began as just a quick 'hello' combusted into me having to find out for myself just how incredible this person is, and then hopping a plane to do so. I had to see. Ya know, whether he was really real or not. I wanted to taste the amazement on my lips, wanted to witness first hand exactly how the beast slept, I wanted to be able to feel this "so-called chemistry" explode between us, not only via words, texts and conversation, but also through actual presence and simply being near each other. I just needed to see. I had to find out. I couldn't be curious. I refused to be.

What I've discovered you ask?

Source: Uploaded by user via Alex on Pinterest

I've come up with some pretty interesting stuff... Interesting to say the very least.

I'm happy!

"When we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love "
~Robert Fulghum~

Happy About 'Nothing'

I've spent one of the best weekends with myself! After such a busy week, filled with running around, finger numbing chores* and lack of sleep--taking time for me has never been so much fun. There were a few different factors in making such happiness possible.

Having no obligations is a wonderful feeling. I don't really enjoy timelines or appointments. I like to keep my own time and know that wherever I am, that's where I need to be. Even the fun things that I'm scheduled to do, there's something very.. Hmm, I dunno... almost anxious about "being on time" and the anticipation of waiting for it to begin or the anxiety of being late, and having missed something. Does that make sense to anyone else?

Whatever-the-case,

I'm laying on my bed, belly down, knees bent and feet fluttering in the air behind me. Frank Sinatra is echoing off of my bedroom walls. I just watched the sunrise on Memorial Day and I have a great feeling of satisfaction and contentment. I suppose doing nothing all weekend can do that to you. But it wasn't just ANY kind of 'nothing'! It was the "entire house to yourself, sing out loud, drink at 10 a.m., clear your mind, stay in & watch as many movies (without needing to negotiate what kind), masturbate in between every film, sleep if you feel the random urge, order take-away, pour yourself wine & cook yourself steak--all while smoking yourself into a happy oblivion" sort of nothing. And that's a pretty good nothing if you ask me.









*not in the good way

I've arrived!

Sleeping in for an extra hour is just one of the perks of living in the city. Everything's right around the corner, and if it isn't, it's a nice scenic walk down a couple streets. I love my city. To anyone who has read this blog, I'm sure you realize this.

I'm still getting a few things in order for my room*, but all in all, I'm pretty much moved in. Give or take a few of my favorite books, posters, DVD's and of course my trusty television. My life has been so busy lately I haven't actually noticed my room being void of all these things. I literally, go to work and then once work is said & done, I've either been working on wedding stuff for friends or cooking for the fellas I live with, or writing to a special someone**, or writing up some skits and/or filming them. Haven't exactly   had a chance to throw myself into decorating my space. I've got a dresser I've been gluing shit to for the last 2 or 3 weeks. I've also got a lovely piece of furniture waiting to be moved into my room, but seeing as it's about 5 or 6 miles away from where I live, finding someone to help me move it there will be harder than a virgin's cock while watching porn. So there we have it.

But so far the city has been treating me well. I expected nothing less. My short stint in C. City in December was a bust. This place is eons better. Though Gable isn't "allowed" where I'm currently residing, I have a feeling that can be changed in a few short months when we're scouting for another roommate.

Tonight's menu is looking like a bottle of Merlot, some tying of wedding invites, singing while doing so, and a nice little treat I like to call Thai delivery.

Some people just have it made...

:-/


*okay a lot of few things.
**this is a favorite part of my day

That Spark

Eyes lock in place, as I approach you from afar.
Spaces between getting smaller, such shine does the stars.
Twinkling above the blue day sky,
Our hands touch first--oh me, oh my!
 Electric jolts rush, filling us with light,
Before the very first touch, I knew that we'd be right.
Such wit & charm, spreading like a positive infection,
Longing for your arms, I've never quite had this connection.
Did you feel that spark, or was it just me?
Pitted patter goes the heart, look at my chest, I'm sure you'll see.
Staring through each other, we smile with delight.
Knowing of our intentions, we rush off to take flight.
I don't wanna drink, nor do I wanna eat,
I want the moment right before both of our lips meet.

My Other

Maybe it's the way you speak those words to me. Or it could be the way you simply exist in your amazing world. I want to join it. I want to join you and all your glory in such a way, that makes the birds sing and the Earth turn, in such a way that makes colors more vibrant and songs worth singing. I want to sing to you. Serenade your eyes and ears with my vocals and praise the day you were born. Praise the day you responded to me. And very soon, praise the day our eyes lock and our lips meet.

Who is this person? Where did he come from? Well quite obviously he must've been 'shot through with starlight'. Inspiration and adoration springing from his fingers, the middle of his forehead and the left side of his chest. A being quite worthy of worship and lionization. A being so incredibly amazing that it took me 26 years and some change to find him. Maybe we weren't ready to meet before. Don't you hate it when you find someone you want to be with forever but the timing is off? I do--did. Because all of that bad timing shit that I spoke of before is completely irrelevant now, because it all lead to the source of my current happiness. It all lead to this person. This person that has transformed my idea of what I want, need and deserve.

Dangling over the abyss by a fucking thread, he pulls me in. Brushing the hair away from my frightened eyes, he reassures that I'll never need to take that leap again. I'll never need to settle or to be 'out there' wondering where "he", my other, is. For he's arrived. And he's arrived in the most complex of situations. I promised myself, never again. Never again can I do the long distance thing. I did it for years and the miles ripped through the relationship like it was tissue paper. But that relationship had "trouble" written all over it before he even left Philly.
How rotten would it be to punish another for the deeds of an unworthy man? How rotten would it be to punish myself?! To deny such a connection that wakes me from sleep and stirs my soul like a pot of warm soup. Incredulous thoughts has surfaced, but no longer. Why be cynical about something that feels so right? No sir, I'm not going to be like the rest. I can believe that good can come to me because I deserve it. Of all the wrong doings that has been done to me, I feel that meeting this person has corrected it all. And I'll graciously accept this gift from the stars as an apology for all that crap. Let's consider us even, Karma. I've grown out of that 'figuring myself out' cocoon and my effervescent wings have spread to make such a beautiful palette.

A palette I'm ready to share. With him. And only him.