To only write horror stories, so wrong. To make less than ones worth, a slap in any face. The frustration felt for the life not yet lived have no more words. I can study all practices that are out there but I remain true, humble and faithful without shoving it down as long as the respect goes both ways. I call it “justice of the peace”.
You turn on and off emotions like a switch, this is control. In this you learn to seperate emotions and put them in files, you only pull them out when you need them. You work on the files that promote healing. I treat people the way I’d like to be treated. I’m done with black holes.
These are shoes you must walk in to truly know ones pain to own a pair like these.
Pride standing tall, ego out of the way. To be made and then to be broke. To be loyal to whom? The ones who made you? We will not submit. Some just happen to stumble upon you like a rubber band vibration. I hope we see the typy that was made, the shit stirs in the way. It wasn’t all their fault. It was everyone. Including me. Including you.
I’m a long haul girl that craves fun. The sidewalk, kicked to the curb. I want to feel the music and see the color in vibration by playing the instrument some days and by orchestrating it on others. The sidewalk to dull to keep me. The stress a double edge sword. I’m only in the middle now because I was all ready both.
My new life unfolding to anyone’s guess. Blind folded surprises excite me. I only like silk blindfolds because I’m not pinning the tail on the donkey, I’ve grown past that age, hopefully we all have that can read past a 3rd grade level of education.
I’m not really interested in having boyfriends because I need to make money. This way I can pay my own way without relying on anyone. Besides, I’m out the door when they want anything more. I can’t offer all of me, in this lays the typy. Right now I offer none of me but my words. To be bit is to bite back.
To love is to turn a back to the disloyal only after you have learned you were not heard after all those chances that were given.
It’s funny to throw a fit and throw stuff out with conviction. I loose my controller only to learn it’s between my legs. It’s like talking on your cell while looking for it when it’s in your ear. Kind of like getting high and wearing heels to the Getty not realizing both were stupid ideas for that event, until afterwards.
If only I didn’t live with this old hat and shoe and then I smile knowing it’s almost over. We are through. My black and white Nikes I found after I lost my head have Nike free on the sides of the tread. I laugh because it really is all a huge misunderstanding.
Did I mention I am in construction too? A level never misconstrues.
Now I laugh and chuckle too.