Eleanor quickly darted across the deserted street to the large, still standing apartment building. The static from her walkie -talkie was once again interrupted.
"Eleanor! Come in Eleanor! Christ, you're being stupid! Eleanor, do you hear me?!" It cackled at her. She turned the volume down. " I can hear you." She thought. " I just don't care." She smiled and quickly scanned the perimeter before bounding up the building's stairs.
"Who's there?!' A voice demanded over the intercom.
"It's me." She responded, feeling her pulse quicken upon hearing his voice.She pictured his perfect face, tanned from the hot summer sun. Then she felt her blood boil as she thought about her...and him.Together. The mix of excitement and anger made Eleanor feel high.She bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet. The door buzzed open.
His apartment door was open before she was down the hall.
"Oh hi you." He said with a smirk.
Eleanor pulled back and punched his perfectly aligned nose with as much force as she could muster.She heard a satisfying crunch as her fist met bone "Hi" she said,jumping back as he crumbled to his knees.
"Jesus! Fuck!" He bellowed, as he covered what Eleanor hoped was a broken nose.Blood ran down his face, and started to make a small puddle on the cheap laminate flooring.
"Good shot,Sport" He spat, as he took his shirt off and used it as a rag.Eleanor tensed as she noticed his perfectly toned body. A rush of heat coursed through her veins and she cursed her body for betraying her emotions. He looked up at her with his crystal blue eyes and a knot formed in her stomach.His stare was a mixture of anger and something that made Eleanor's body tingle.It was a look she knew too well. "Well, I suppose I deserve that" He said,slowly climbing to his feet. He looked her up and down before locking his eyes with hers.He smirked, not once losing eye contact with her. Eleanor shivered and dropped her gaze to the floor.
"I came her to tell you I know about her, obviously" She said, gesturing to his face.
" I also came to tell you that we're leaving." She continued. "You can come with us, or stay here and wait for help that's not coming. Your choice. I'd recommend listening to me, but we both know you're incapable of making wise decisions-so whatever." She said, rushing the words out while her adrenaline and nerve were still high.
"Is that all?" He said, tossing the rag aside.His nose had stopped bleeding was beginning to swell, somehow it suited him. "Is that all you came here to say, Love? Is that everything?" He said, as he brushed her cheek with his finger.
"Well that, and I hate you." She snapped,as she felt her breathing begin to quicken.She hated that she felt so com pulsed to be near someone like him. Someone she wanted to hug and strangle simultaneously.
He took a step towards her, completely removing all and any distance between them. Eleanor felt her mouth go dry.
"Almost everyone we know is dead, it's probably the fucking end of the world out there and you risked crossing town to crack me in the face and tell me you hate me?" He said, placing his hand on the back of her neck. "Be real"He whispered.
She could smell his familiar musky scent as he placed his forehead against hers. Her heart started pounding again as he pressed his body against hers.
"I hate you." She whimpered.
"Oh...really?" He asked, as his eyes flickered down at hers. They were touching nose to nose and Eleanor could feel his warm breath against her lips. Every nerve in her body tingled and the room wobbled as she began to feel lightheaded.It was becoming increasingly harder to breathe. "Hate me, eh?"His gaze made the knot in her stomach tighten.
"You hate me?" He reiterated, as he grabbed a handful of her hair, causing her to quietly cry out.Her breath quickened as she remembered how muscular his arms were and she could feel her cheeks starting to blush as she recalled being entangled in them,completely destroying her angry guise.
"Fucking loathe" she said breathily as she tilted her head.His lips brushed over her smooth neck and traced her chin. Her pulse quickened and she could feel his heart,thudding rhythmically, matching her own.
Eleanor went to push his face away from hers , but he caught her hand in his before she touched him. He lifted her arm above her head, locking it there with a vice like grip.
Before Eleanor could say a word he covered her mouth with his in a hungry kiss. She couldn't fake it anymore and responded immediately,giving into every impulse in her body. His mouth was so warm,his lips almost angry with anticipation. He tasted forcefully with his tongue, and Eleanor opened her mouth with a low moan. His hand slid from her hair and down to her waist, where he dug his fingers into her skin, causing her to cry out once more. He drove his tongue deeper into her mouth, as he pressed his hips into hers. The room spun as Eleanor grabbed the back of his neck with her free hand,eagerly pressing her hips back into his.
He pulled away and for a moment they said nothing. Eleanor's walkie-talkie began to angrily crackle.
"Elle! Eleanor you GODDAMN BITCH you better answer this! IF YOU'RE DEAD I'M GUNNA BE PISSED.Where the FUCK are you?!" A voice screamed over the line. His eyebrows raised in amusement. "You gunna get that?" He asked with a chuckle.
"Urggh" Eleanor groaned as she pushed him away. "Just one minute, just one friggen minute" she mumbled as she turned the volume up on the only communication she had in the world.
"Eleanor here. This better be good" she snarled into the receptacle.
"Better be good? Bitch, fuck you" the voice said back , but Eleanor could here the smile through the line. Her best friend, Ruby was elated to hear her voice. Two minutes of no communication could, and usually did mean you were dead.
"Did you get to Fuck Face safely?" Ruby inquired.
He grabbed the walkie-talkie from Eleanor with a smile. "Hey Ruby, nice to hear you're safe and sound too" He said with a sarcastic smile.
"Get bent, Fucker. I was hoping you were bit so I could do you in myself" Ruby quipped.
Eleanor quickly grabbed the walkie-talkie from him before Ruby and him got into a famous quip for quip battle.
"I'm on route." Eleanor said, trying to catch his gaze.
"I may have one with me."She said, still searching his body language for a clue as ro what he was thinking. His gaze didn't move off the floor.
Eleanor clicked the walkie -talkie back onto her belt loop and stared at him.
"You're not coming, are you?" she asked, feeling her stomach drop with the weight of her words.
He shook his head once, a defiant 'No'. Eleanor sighed, any glimmer of hope that he'd stay with her fading away. His gaze drifted from her hand placed on her hip, to her lips and then rested on on her eyes.
"But, you knew that." He said with a small smile. "You knew that when you met me, and you knew that when you came here. I'm not the commitment type." He leaned against the raggedy couch placed directly in the middle of an otherwise empty room.
"Besides, this place has working laundry!" He laughed. Eleanor rolled her eyes.
"Your priorities are fucked" She said as she moved towards him, wrapping her arms around his middle.He stroked her hair as she sighed and placed her head on his shoulder. They embraced for a moment, enjoying the rare moment of silence.
" But hey,that's why you like me." he said as he firmly gripped her chin in his fingers, lifting her face to his once more before kissing her lightly on the lips.
"Cause the crazy people make the world better, and the sane one's fuck it up." He said as he unwrapped her hands and intertwined her fingers with his. He kissed her palms and held them against his lips for a moment. Eleanor sighed once more and took a step back from the man she'd never see again. She smiled, and lightly touched his face.
"Later" she said, turning her back to him and gripping the door handle to sturdy herself.
"Hey" he said quickly, causing Eleanor to face him once more. "It was fun, right?" He said, smiling that million dollor smile at her again.
"It was something" she replied before blowing him a kiss and sliding out the opening in the door frame. She inhaled deeply, and wiped the few escaped tears off her face.
Even in the middle of the Apocalypse it was hard to remind yourself not to fall in love.
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Another one from the vault.
From Peterborough slam days.
-------
6 simple rules to dating a Lauren Margaret
6 simple rules to help hit this heart on target
Don't lie, don't cheat
Don't flake, don't beat
Have faith in me, and don't touch my feet...
...but really, I hate them. A boy once offered to reflexology me. You know, the one where while your big toe is being massaged, somehow the left side of colon is also getting a rub down.
That reflexology.
It made me feel ill, and not the dope, so fresh ill.
So there are 6 rules to get inside the door, but if you're thinking of settling down for good then I've got a list of expectations that unrolls and hits the floor.
I want a man who can make me laugh so hard I cry.
I need a guy who doesn't mind just sitting watching the clouds go by.
I want someone who can understand and just go with the flow.
So I'll never have to explain my reasoning because he'll just already know.
And while he sweeps me off my feet he's gotta keep me on my toes.
And when he's hanging in my house he should know where the clean dishes and the dirty laundry go!
Seriously, rinse you damn cup,use some soap,dry it up, put it away.
I'm not here to service you and I'm not your mother just put things back in the cupboard.
And keep in mind, unless you say 'don't worry about it' at your place-I'm going to soap my cup,rinse it off,dry it down and put it away.
Because you and I have better things to do than pick up after one another.
We'll have better things to do, like loving down on one another.
And so you know, I like comparing lovers to novels.
I don't want a chic lit type lover.
One that I can predict how's it going to end, yet I read it anyways because for the couple of minutes to couple of hours it takes for me to skim the pages it i'm not longer bored.
However, I don't want a man that mirrors a James Joyce either, no I don't want a Ulysses.
Dense to get through, hard to understand, sentences meaning three different things at once when all he really meant to say was "I want a cheeseburger."
My lover should read like an Oscar Wilde-
Surprise me with your humour,entrap me in your words.
Make me smirk with your undertones of sexuality and be so damn good that you're not only notable-you're fucking quotable.
Make me like what I read so that I continue to read the first six chapters again and again because I love it so- I still don't know how the story'll end.
So it might seem like a lot, but I am a girl that cannot be bought.
And any person who wants to be with me will be able to handle that,
'Cause I am a goddess and this body is a temple you should pray at.
My mind a library of knowledge,and ideas and genres so one day I may be a diva,a poet, an actress, an artist,a pirate or just some easy going spirit who loves "singing in the rain, just siiinging in the rain.'
Most days I am a strong amazon warrior,
But every once and a while I'll be that damsel in distress asking you to come over and reach something high up for me because- last time I tried to scale my shelving the whole damn cupboard came down on me, so could you just pass me the very high up cheerios, please. Because I've misplaced my stepladder.
Effort, and being thoughtful
Not just chocolates and candies and flowers, but the little things. Like, as my best girl friend said:
"If you were to lose that little thing that unlocks your car door. The one that goes "boep boep" and you say just once ' argh! Now I can't lock my door from far away!' That wonderful, thoughtful person you're with goes and picks you one up the very next day.
"Here Baby. I thought of you. Boep Boep."
Don't take my bullshit , know when no is the right thing to say.
Stand up to me-I swear its really okay.
You need to love me at four o'clock in the morning without make-up.
At times when my world is collapsing and every things shaken up.
Knows sometimes I can be selfish, and short tempered like the rest.
Baby,Love me at my worst, or you don't deserve to love me at my best.
Just know I try though, I really do.
Once you've got my love I swear to only you that I'll be true.
I don't want to be on a pedestal, but a throne beside yours, because you are my King.
I expect to be your Queen.
I don't wanna be your ice cream sundae, I just wanna be the cherry on top.
I wanna hear your smile over the phone
And we'll hold each other not just when we feel alone.
Sooo, I've got this list of expectations that unrolls and hits the floor.
and I swear to Zeus that I've got a least a million more things
that I want.
However.
If we click, and you catch me off guard- I'll roll up that list and only occasionally cross reference because as I said
There are only six simple rules to getting this Lauren Margaret.
Six simple rules to be remembered and not forgotten.
Don't lie. Don't cheat.
Don't flake. Don't beat.
Have faith in me, and don't touch my feet!
-------
6 simple rules to dating a Lauren Margaret
6 simple rules to help hit this heart on target
Don't lie, don't cheat
Don't flake, don't beat
Have faith in me, and don't touch my feet...
...but really, I hate them. A boy once offered to reflexology me. You know, the one where while your big toe is being massaged, somehow the left side of colon is also getting a rub down.
That reflexology.
It made me feel ill, and not the dope, so fresh ill.
So there are 6 rules to get inside the door, but if you're thinking of settling down for good then I've got a list of expectations that unrolls and hits the floor.
I want a man who can make me laugh so hard I cry.
I need a guy who doesn't mind just sitting watching the clouds go by.
I want someone who can understand and just go with the flow.
So I'll never have to explain my reasoning because he'll just already know.
And while he sweeps me off my feet he's gotta keep me on my toes.
And when he's hanging in my house he should know where the clean dishes and the dirty laundry go!
Seriously, rinse you damn cup,use some soap,dry it up, put it away.
I'm not here to service you and I'm not your mother just put things back in the cupboard.
And keep in mind, unless you say 'don't worry about it' at your place-I'm going to soap my cup,rinse it off,dry it down and put it away.
Because you and I have better things to do than pick up after one another.
We'll have better things to do, like loving down on one another.
And so you know, I like comparing lovers to novels.
I don't want a chic lit type lover.
One that I can predict how's it going to end, yet I read it anyways because for the couple of minutes to couple of hours it takes for me to skim the pages it i'm not longer bored.
However, I don't want a man that mirrors a James Joyce either, no I don't want a Ulysses.
Dense to get through, hard to understand, sentences meaning three different things at once when all he really meant to say was "I want a cheeseburger."
My lover should read like an Oscar Wilde-
Surprise me with your humour,entrap me in your words.
Make me smirk with your undertones of sexuality and be so damn good that you're not only notable-you're fucking quotable.
Make me like what I read so that I continue to read the first six chapters again and again because I love it so- I still don't know how the story'll end.
So it might seem like a lot, but I am a girl that cannot be bought.
And any person who wants to be with me will be able to handle that,
'Cause I am a goddess and this body is a temple you should pray at.
My mind a library of knowledge,and ideas and genres so one day I may be a diva,a poet, an actress, an artist,a pirate or just some easy going spirit who loves "singing in the rain, just siiinging in the rain.'
Most days I am a strong amazon warrior,
But every once and a while I'll be that damsel in distress asking you to come over and reach something high up for me because- last time I tried to scale my shelving the whole damn cupboard came down on me, so could you just pass me the very high up cheerios, please. Because I've misplaced my stepladder.
Effort, and being thoughtful
Not just chocolates and candies and flowers, but the little things. Like, as my best girl friend said:
"If you were to lose that little thing that unlocks your car door. The one that goes "boep boep" and you say just once ' argh! Now I can't lock my door from far away!' That wonderful, thoughtful person you're with goes and picks you one up the very next day.
"Here Baby. I thought of you. Boep Boep."
Don't take my bullshit , know when no is the right thing to say.
Stand up to me-I swear its really okay.
You need to love me at four o'clock in the morning without make-up.
At times when my world is collapsing and every things shaken up.
Knows sometimes I can be selfish, and short tempered like the rest.
Baby,Love me at my worst, or you don't deserve to love me at my best.
Just know I try though, I really do.
Once you've got my love I swear to only you that I'll be true.
I don't want to be on a pedestal, but a throne beside yours, because you are my King.
I expect to be your Queen.
I don't wanna be your ice cream sundae, I just wanna be the cherry on top.
I wanna hear your smile over the phone
And we'll hold each other not just when we feel alone.
Sooo, I've got this list of expectations that unrolls and hits the floor.
and I swear to Zeus that I've got a least a million more things
that I want.
However.
If we click, and you catch me off guard- I'll roll up that list and only occasionally cross reference because as I said
There are only six simple rules to getting this Lauren Margaret.
Six simple rules to be remembered and not forgotten.
Don't lie. Don't cheat.
Don't flake. Don't beat.
Have faith in me, and don't touch my feet!
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Coversations from the past.
a.k.a Things I wish I said.
You gotta stop with these fade outs. Relationships should end in 'cut to's' -Chris to Adam about his overlapping girlfriends.
"When you go to Vegas of course you're going to see Cirque De Celine. -It's produced by Jennifer Lopez's ex husband."
"Bennifer?"
"No, the fat one."
"Oh, Chris Judd"
Chris and Adam talking about a Vegas trip.
"Popes can't do women, but they can eat cheeseburgers..."
"...And little boys aren't off limits"
"You hear about this all the time. I've got a solution: Let them marry."
"Or make them unics, that way if they want to be priests they better goddamn mean it...Ah, I'm going to hell."
"I thought you didn't believe in hell."
"I don't"
Chris and Adam telling me all about the inner workings of the priesthood.
You gotta stop with these fade outs. Relationships should end in 'cut to's' -Chris to Adam about his overlapping girlfriends.
"When you go to Vegas of course you're going to see Cirque De Celine. -It's produced by Jennifer Lopez's ex husband."
"Bennifer?"
"No, the fat one."
"Oh, Chris Judd"
Chris and Adam talking about a Vegas trip.
"Popes can't do women, but they can eat cheeseburgers..."
"...And little boys aren't off limits"
"You hear about this all the time. I've got a solution: Let them marry."
"Or make them unics, that way if they want to be priests they better goddamn mean it...Ah, I'm going to hell."
"I thought you didn't believe in hell."
"I don't"
Chris and Adam telling me all about the inner workings of the priesthood.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Online shame.
This blog is an embarassment.
I've never paid it much attention.
The ugly little technology sister to an older, more glamourous print version of my thoughts and musings.
From here on I promise to be a better blogger. I want the feedback. I do. I just need to improve the content first.
Mission improvement: commence.
I've never paid it much attention.
The ugly little technology sister to an older, more glamourous print version of my thoughts and musings.
From here on I promise to be a better blogger. I want the feedback. I do. I just need to improve the content first.
Mission improvement: commence.
The Business men are drinking my blood.
"Show her some beauty before all this damage is done."
There's something strange in the air tonight, and it's not just the added electrical currents the looming thunderstorm is sending out.
Tonight, (being the first sober night I've had in weeks) I started talking with an old friend about life.
It seems we're both in the midst of a pessimistic quarter life crisis. Who am I? What do I want out of life? Why is it that I have everything and yet I'm not as happy as I thought I would/should be?
"Do what makes you happy, that's the key!" is a common catch phrase thrown at 20-somethings. "Make, create,dance,sing,jump!"
I just think that this whole 'Do what makes you happy, follow your dreams' stuff is just some unrealistic bullshit that people are fed to keep them motivated and accepting the bleak realizations that life rarely hands you what you want. It's hard to find the strength to be optimistic. It's sad." She wrote.
"Well, then what the FUCK do we need?!" I responded, practically tearing my hair out. Isn't it enough to have the cute bachelor apartment,the creative job, the awesome friends, the parties, the clothes, the music? If it's not enough why do I have all this stuff?
I'm quite aware that one post ago I commented on how fortunate I am to have all these things. I am fortunate, and Lauren of last summer would high five Lauren of the present.However, despite the fact that I should pat my back on a 'job well done' for obtaining all that I ever wanted, I'm starting to think that getting what one wants doesn't necessarily equate to getting what one needs.
What I want is a cigarette and a whiskey sour. At least then my mild addictions would be satisfied.
So what is the key to real happiness? To no longer feeling antsy?
To the pursuit of happiness,Cheers.
There's something strange in the air tonight, and it's not just the added electrical currents the looming thunderstorm is sending out.
Tonight, (being the first sober night I've had in weeks) I started talking with an old friend about life.
It seems we're both in the midst of a pessimistic quarter life crisis. Who am I? What do I want out of life? Why is it that I have everything and yet I'm not as happy as I thought I would/should be?
"Do what makes you happy, that's the key!" is a common catch phrase thrown at 20-somethings. "Make, create,dance,sing,jump!"
I just think that this whole 'Do what makes you happy, follow your dreams' stuff is just some unrealistic bullshit that people are fed to keep them motivated and accepting the bleak realizations that life rarely hands you what you want. It's hard to find the strength to be optimistic. It's sad." She wrote.
"Well, then what the FUCK do we need?!" I responded, practically tearing my hair out. Isn't it enough to have the cute bachelor apartment,the creative job, the awesome friends, the parties, the clothes, the music? If it's not enough why do I have all this stuff?
I'm quite aware that one post ago I commented on how fortunate I am to have all these things. I am fortunate, and Lauren of last summer would high five Lauren of the present.However, despite the fact that I should pat my back on a 'job well done' for obtaining all that I ever wanted, I'm starting to think that getting what one wants doesn't necessarily equate to getting what one needs.
What I want is a cigarette and a whiskey sour. At least then my mild addictions would be satisfied.
So what is the key to real happiness? To no longer feeling antsy?
To the pursuit of happiness,Cheers.
Friday, July 22, 2011
One more for the road.
There's something twangy playing over the radio. It seems fitting-twang and stupid humid hot weather seem to go hand in hand. I've escaped to the Starbucks in hopes of avoiding the convection oven that is my apartment.
In a quest to get back to what makes me happy I've been re-reading everything I've ever written. Blogs,notebooks,scraps,essays,short stories,journals..whatever. I've read it. This long and sometimes tedious quest has brought me to the startling realization: I'm living the summer I wanted last year.
Everything I wanted last year, everything that seemed so far out of reach-the job, the housing, the friendships,the parties,the fashion, the music, my attitude...all of it. I have.
It was a "stop in your tracks" kind of moment.
This summer hasn't been magical. It's been electric.
Beaches,pools, sunshine that won't quit,A job I can stand,Living alone.Boys. Queen St,College st, dance till you drop dance parties,More Boys.Old friends being just as lovely and new friends forming forever spots in my heart. Electro music, dancing in Chinese restaurants and in churches.Parks and beers and markets and music and friends who sweat passion and creativity. It's been pretty nuts.
I thought a moment of appreciation was needed. For all the itching for the What's Next I guess I forget to stop and look around.
Life is what you make of it.
<3
In a quest to get back to what makes me happy I've been re-reading everything I've ever written. Blogs,notebooks,scraps,essays,short stories,journals..whatever. I've read it. This long and sometimes tedious quest has brought me to the startling realization: I'm living the summer I wanted last year.
Everything I wanted last year, everything that seemed so far out of reach-the job, the housing, the friendships,the parties,the fashion, the music, my attitude...all of it. I have.
It was a "stop in your tracks" kind of moment.
This summer hasn't been magical. It's been electric.
Beaches,pools, sunshine that won't quit,A job I can stand,Living alone.Boys. Queen St,College st, dance till you drop dance parties,More Boys.Old friends being just as lovely and new friends forming forever spots in my heart. Electro music, dancing in Chinese restaurants and in churches.Parks and beers and markets and music and friends who sweat passion and creativity. It's been pretty nuts.
I thought a moment of appreciation was needed. For all the itching for the What's Next I guess I forget to stop and look around.
Life is what you make of it.
<3
I'm drawing little hearts
(Another one from the vault.)
I'm drawing little hearts into a mug that I've fogged up with my breath.
You're talking about hip-hop.
I turn my glass, 180 degrees in your direction.
I watch your eyes,hoping they'll flicker down and fix their gaze on my treasure of condensation graffiti.
You're still talking about hip-hop.
I glance around and notice that we're in a restaurant of couples,all of which are engaging in stares that radiate loving emotions.
Some are even holding hands.
It is at this point in time that I slowly slide my hand from under the safe recess of my armpit area, and slither it across the table, towards yours.
Waiting for your gestures of KRS-One to stop mid up-beat,and catch the drift of the five fingers wiggling towards your personal hand space.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Past my cutlery,cleverly avoiding the salt and pepper shakers,halting beside your plate,waiting,watching,hoping that your need for my hand in yours will overcome the need to flail your arms around about Mos Def.
Mos' definitely I just want you to look at me, smile at me, notice me.
But, you are still talking about hip-hop.
I stare at my hand as it slowly starts to slink back, wanting the safe retreat of my inner arm.
I look at you and marvel at how passionate you can be, then try to calm the now sinking feeling I have coursing through under my ribs and settling in my stomach.
I find my self hoping (and only for a brief moment.) that you'd talk about me with that much passion when I'm not around.
I think that if I were brave I would say:
"Look Lover, I just want you to make me feel like you think I'm the dopest thing to come out of the 80's , and that you would totally buy my mix tape if it were 26.99, because I am worth more than a download!"
If I were brave, I would say these things to you...
But...you are still talking about hip-hop.
I'm drawing little hearts into a mug that I've fogged up with my breath.
You're talking about hip-hop.
I turn my glass, 180 degrees in your direction.
I watch your eyes,hoping they'll flicker down and fix their gaze on my treasure of condensation graffiti.
You're still talking about hip-hop.
I glance around and notice that we're in a restaurant of couples,all of which are engaging in stares that radiate loving emotions.
Some are even holding hands.
It is at this point in time that I slowly slide my hand from under the safe recess of my armpit area, and slither it across the table, towards yours.
Waiting for your gestures of KRS-One to stop mid up-beat,and catch the drift of the five fingers wiggling towards your personal hand space.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Past my cutlery,cleverly avoiding the salt and pepper shakers,halting beside your plate,waiting,watching,hoping that your need for my hand in yours will overcome the need to flail your arms around about Mos Def.
Mos' definitely I just want you to look at me, smile at me, notice me.
But, you are still talking about hip-hop.
I stare at my hand as it slowly starts to slink back, wanting the safe retreat of my inner arm.
I look at you and marvel at how passionate you can be, then try to calm the now sinking feeling I have coursing through under my ribs and settling in my stomach.
I find my self hoping (and only for a brief moment.) that you'd talk about me with that much passion when I'm not around.
I think that if I were brave I would say:
"Look Lover, I just want you to make me feel like you think I'm the dopest thing to come out of the 80's , and that you would totally buy my mix tape if it were 26.99, because I am worth more than a download!"
If I were brave, I would say these things to you...
But...you are still talking about hip-hop.
Get me through this one.
I've decided to go back into the Lauren slam poetry archives and post some of the stuff I'm prepping to read. Ack! It's been a long long time since I've been on stage so I'm a little rusty, and more than a little scared. (Read: Scared shitless) However I figure, these days I don't have much to lose. These don't translate exactly...I mean, they are meant to be spoken word...but ah, well.
"It's a new dawn, it's a new day...and I'm feelin' good"
I shouldn't have signed online today.
I shouldn't have succumb to my ever multiplying addiction to facebook.
I should have stayed alert! Stayed safe! from the viral smack that courses its way off my screen, into my finger tips ,through my veins into my cerebral cortex.
I'm in denial of that status.
Denial! Denial! Denial!...
De-nile isn't just a river in Egypt.
Your disassociation is understandable,
most kids your age who have it are still quite manageable.
Don't worry we'll give you some pills for the pain
But on your way to a better life don't forget to forfeit your identity,it's just a name!
Thank you for flying air sedation,exits are to the right,left,front and behind.
Don't worry about crashing,it's not real-it's in your mind.
Don't fret over flunking out of school we can ease the pain,and that boy you thought loved you...we'll convince you that that chapter in your life was simply inane
Everything doesn't happen for a reason.
You're locked into the grid, and if you leave it's only treason...
I'm in denial of the past few years lately.
I'm in denial that your actions effect me so greatly.
I've tried to bury everything I feel, and don't feel for you
However, it's starting to affect everything I do.
Its starting to manifest into something else
Only because I'm in denile...denile..denile
"It's a new dawn, it's a new day...and I'm feelin' good"
I shouldn't have signed online today.
I shouldn't have succumb to my ever multiplying addiction to facebook.
I should have stayed alert! Stayed safe! from the viral smack that courses its way off my screen, into my finger tips ,through my veins into my cerebral cortex.
I'm in denial of that status.
Denial! Denial! Denial!...
De-nile isn't just a river in Egypt.
Your disassociation is understandable,
most kids your age who have it are still quite manageable.
Don't worry we'll give you some pills for the pain
But on your way to a better life don't forget to forfeit your identity,it's just a name!
Thank you for flying air sedation,exits are to the right,left,front and behind.
Don't worry about crashing,it's not real-it's in your mind.
Don't fret over flunking out of school we can ease the pain,and that boy you thought loved you...we'll convince you that that chapter in your life was simply inane
Everything doesn't happen for a reason.
You're locked into the grid, and if you leave it's only treason...
I'm in denial of the past few years lately.
I'm in denial that your actions effect me so greatly.
I've tried to bury everything I feel, and don't feel for you
However, it's starting to affect everything I do.
Its starting to manifest into something else
Only because I'm in denile...denile..denile
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Back in time.
Remember when you were 11 and all the boys made fun of you. Fun was riding bikes and going to roller gardens on Saturday nights. Your journal was your solace and the night you discovered you could sit on the roof of your house you were never the same.
How about when you were 13 and a boy wanted to walk you home. You'd beg your mom, and your friends' mothers to drive everyone out to St Catherines so that you could socialize with the opposite sex and the infamous Y dances.
Then you were 15, and life was opened up by music that you felt in your bones. Obsessed with Thursday,Brand New, Thrice and Finch you started to dress and act like yourself. Parties, and boys and art class took up all of your time. Then there was falling in love. To re-live the sensation of falling in love...Oh, what a thing to re-live.
Then 16 to 17 came and went-in those years you discovered you wanted to be yourself, and just couldn't do that where you were. You wanted to act silly and be silly and not worry about being cool.Not worry about other people's problems. So you moved on to somewhere where you could do that. You were silly, in the best possible way. Improv and student council and singing tunes in the back of a Skylar were the only things that mattered. Summers were spent in Sauble beach listening to Weezer and Electric light orchestra in front of camp fires.
18, the big step. Time to move on whether you want to or not. New school, new home, new life,new friends. 18, and in love with another person but not with yourself.
I write this out for you, for me- because somewhere in your 20's you got lost. Things started falling upwards and away and everything got a little fuzzy. Post this, re-read it and try and remember that self discovery is a process. At some point in throughout your pinnacle teen-age years you felt happy, at peace and grounded. It's time to find that again. Find what you love. Do it everyday and you'll be happy again. Promise.
How about when you were 13 and a boy wanted to walk you home. You'd beg your mom, and your friends' mothers to drive everyone out to St Catherines so that you could socialize with the opposite sex and the infamous Y dances.
Then you were 15, and life was opened up by music that you felt in your bones. Obsessed with Thursday,Brand New, Thrice and Finch you started to dress and act like yourself. Parties, and boys and art class took up all of your time. Then there was falling in love. To re-live the sensation of falling in love...Oh, what a thing to re-live.
Then 16 to 17 came and went-in those years you discovered you wanted to be yourself, and just couldn't do that where you were. You wanted to act silly and be silly and not worry about being cool.Not worry about other people's problems. So you moved on to somewhere where you could do that. You were silly, in the best possible way. Improv and student council and singing tunes in the back of a Skylar were the only things that mattered. Summers were spent in Sauble beach listening to Weezer and Electric light orchestra in front of camp fires.
18, the big step. Time to move on whether you want to or not. New school, new home, new life,new friends. 18, and in love with another person but not with yourself.
I write this out for you, for me- because somewhere in your 20's you got lost. Things started falling upwards and away and everything got a little fuzzy. Post this, re-read it and try and remember that self discovery is a process. At some point in throughout your pinnacle teen-age years you felt happy, at peace and grounded. It's time to find that again. Find what you love. Do it everyday and you'll be happy again. Promise.
Good Morning Toronto!
Holy Cripes!
It's been 5 long months since I've had the oppertunity to sit down and get to post my musings to the wild wild web. Yay! I'm back!(Tentatively dipping my toe back into the blog pool) Buying a new netbook directly attributes to that.
So what's up web? What'd I miss?
Toronto thus far has been pretty incredible, and of course it's all thanks to the people I've met here,electro music,Kensington market on Sundays, and parties in Chinese restaurants.
Work and trying to figure out what I want to do with my life, career wise, has been the forefront of my existence for the past little while.Huzzah.
More to come, because now I have no excuse.
Thanks for baring with me while I get back into the swing of things.
It's been 5 long months since I've had the oppertunity to sit down and get to post my musings to the wild wild web. Yay! I'm back!(Tentatively dipping my toe back into the blog pool) Buying a new netbook directly attributes to that.
So what's up web? What'd I miss?
Toronto thus far has been pretty incredible, and of course it's all thanks to the people I've met here,electro music,Kensington market on Sundays, and parties in Chinese restaurants.
Work and trying to figure out what I want to do with my life, career wise, has been the forefront of my existence for the past little while.Huzzah.
More to come, because now I have no excuse.
Thanks for baring with me while I get back into the swing of things.
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