Dealing with my past and “being broken” may never coincide, i sense what direction is provocative enough to avoid controversy.

my tattoo says it all, on Lexi

somewhere out there exists the person who saw me take the heat for their actions,

probably loved every second of it too.

all that and more is expected,

nothing said for a lot...

where I come in with experience, again.

the whole thing about it is stability and growth, both personally and as an individual.

That's how one acquires children.

Point being you all got me thinking its healthy to consider relationships at the level of affording life, of which mine is too contentious for comment on that front. In my mind, I have 4 mouths to feed so thats about as sad as I’m willing to get; beyond there, the 99.9% efficiency rate has let me down in the past. Part of being the furthest thing from punctual, let alone willing to be considered.

Can’t quite speak for people, esp. the ones who don’t know of themselves being discussed.

How am I supposed to address the state of my last long term relationship? Multiple years, as a first…

All I can say is people forget about plans of my own, 

that is all.

Which is to say my situation is probably different,

and answers I am more than willing to give; albiet not on a personal level when it comes to professionalism.

Which pretty much works one way, and subtle at that.

Its like if I told you not only did I have a conversation about explicitly referenced material, but by multiple individuals I was told that whatever I had done was never going to work itself out; I would have known that making the move to KY with three people in the know, neither aware each other exist. That kind of separated mentality toward intimacy with romantic inclinations, to say the least.

[effectively leaves nothing going to my head, I only aspire to be a good writer…]

What started this is never having anticipated being single, if she must know.

that is a fact.

What else is there to say for having done what I did.

All she knows, for all I know, is she lost me at the text messages;

I've never seen that much shit talked about myself ever in this lifetime.

Personally I find myself wondering what life would have been like, with the realization I probably would have been killed, or have a rough time explaining what I’ve been through to anyone would would care. Obviously guys and girls are going to get very different events played out on the matter of unrelated activities. Writing means sitting here deliberating the best way to dictate a thought process isn’t what I consider a good time, I’d rather exemplify potential than make anything personal, for coverage of the bases alone. What does that look like if not a new beginning, to you. To fix means organization, and inevitably character flaws… thats how one gets singled out. To broach that topic of discussion is nature taking its course. Things beyond our control is the basis of humanity, while common themes present themselves. What I can’t do is sit here and be cryptic while pretending like all this resolves itself, thats what makes it work. To speak ill of me? Never a pretty scene.What, people who have truly known me? I go out of my way to avoid confusion; calculated and precise no one can speak for, where we defy convention to conversation. Lofty? No, I simply haven’t had a chance to expand on the prior statements yet. There isn’t a formula for creative writing, not technically. Thats where the rest of you find experience, not whats left of it.

Oh is it about ink? All this writing and not one tattoo reference. What a nice way to break open the topic. It a matter of what people know about me, that I have chosen to share with my body. That I have one no one sees? Directly inspired by a dear friend, I would hate for it to come to this. Everyone else is on me entertaining you, with only one line that could ever work for anyone, and yet still I can’t bring myself to admit anything of the sort. Far as I know everyone can understand at the very least that I love this woman, I just don’t think she knows it. (Its way better when I’ve experienced a lot of this for you, in any particular regard…) Does the writing do that or is it you or is it that I already made an attempt to discern this subject matter in terms of myself? My only line with those artists is I wouldn’t have done that to myself if I hadn’t meant to, no one else conversates on the material. To hear of someone actually taking this on? I still gotta choose my words wisely. So anyway this girl broaches the part of personality where identity is conjured, and quite simply in no way is this meant to be personal; its simply peculiar to experience it personally…. At least I can pick up on you wondering where this is going. Its this weird thing where I don’t actually consider this a conversation, wondering how we got a novel started. Technically this qualifies; she doesn’t know I write. At all. To mention the last one who was clueless? They met. There we find the friend line again. We should probably talk about what hallucinations aren’t sometime. As long as I’m occupied things generally go pretty well, amidst the only parts being how I see.

Writing is meant to accomplish nothing, that is exactly where we left off. There is where I would begin to enlighten woman of their role in my life’s work. The only justification there is in this world is a quote good for this reason only; distinctions are based on looks alone. I am fond of reminiscing how equations must be beautiful to function in nature, and additionally, the aforementioned quote was a product of science being backed as strongly as ones wife is found attractive. That is a fact. This preponderance would guarantee few things in life, I assure you all. It roughly translates to people who act on instinct, for certain.

[ How is this made relevant when nothing should be… without all the bland. ] < — — for knowing of what goes on in my head.

I mentioned times to be serious, life or death, that is all. It most certainly means very different things, by nature. People wonder what that’s all about and that is at the realization of technically being not only in outer space, but also the wild in terms of civilization; just set up camp one day and here we are. So to speak with a girl I’ve met, its pretty much I don’t know the first thing about you, ever. Life is a lot easier that way, when they tell you what they want. Its like solving social discrepancies, too frequently. In terms of a sustained relationship, one could argue tactics are the only way progress is noticeable. Gotten past that “stage”? Intimacy complicates by orders of magnitude, having to walk one through this is no easy task. What makes anyone who they are, if not predictability and what can only be known as opportunities. They would both hinge on commitment, for honorable reasons; such as the forever defined public image. Some things are simply really straightforward, never having to wonder and what not. Never said it had to be anything majestic, which is where we continue on towards practicality and themes this time around. Did I mention there technically being a novel to show for this?

On the personal front, is Megan someone I have to explain? She is one of the only girls I know who has even come close to making an effort to establish a relationship with one another. She said she wanted to move to the west coast and thats the last I ever heard from her. Her preference was California but I have a weird thing about there that is somehow well substantiated. I chose Seattle out of anywhere in the world not knowing anything about it other than sheer scenery. It had mountains and it was on the water, best of everything in addition to a climate I could appreciate after a life in Florida. If she didn’t have to be talked into this another time, at least I could bluntly state it was her idea and nothing more. Fucked up part is she knew none of this and I’ve lost all contact so that makes us decidedly difficult to engage. Getting straight to being clear about addressing her in all seriousness is like I would be living under very different circumstances if there were in fact a relationship, and no that doesn’t mean feeling the need to take it wherever there is at any point in time, not with a real time manner of consequence. We’ve been quite far past what we know about each other, thats all it will ever be around other people. Between us leave no room left to fuck with, unfortunately. Which I could relate to a twisted sense of irony that even a relationship could not function on those terms alone, in a purely deviant fashion. I only mention it because its like that with people of her caliber, opinions matter significantly. A series of highly accurate hypotheses, being that we could go just about anywhere with a mentality such as that one. No destination in mind, thats the best part of providing. It is a challenge in its own right, reward in and of itself being shared presence. Naturally that would exclude things of a triflin’ disposition.

Nows the part where if all she gets is a mention, I’ve either gone too far already or this might be about something I was told; my experience is worth a lot to some people. She is one of two people I know who write, prior to my own ventures into a professional portfolio. How can I get a deal if I don’t have a book to show for my efforts? Consolidated thought, and prime material for hypocrisy, where I would want to convey things that dramatically effected my surroundings and this takes on its own life for what I’ve been over a billion and one times, that pseudonym thing; where you all begin to realize how absurd things can become in the time it takes to recognize belligerence. It like fuck, if you did know I wrote this i hope its only good if you thought it was before you realized I wrote anything, or simply carry on with your life as ignorant as you feel like tolerating.

So it seems the trap to avoid is the one where what if there is a girl I like and she isn’t the one, where I find such territory damn near forbidden. Then its back down to earth for the rest of you. Citing individuals for character traits is obnoxious to consumes oneself with at any point in time, for your healthy dose of reality. How far do you want this to go if I’ve barely scratched the surface… I’d have to commit myself to one girl only in all instances of her reality presenting itself, no compromise… and yet the though of such an extreme is toxic in its own right. Anything that comes close to resembling a story line is provocative enough to severely disrupt normal, dare I say typical life proceedings. Thus the appeal to what I know to be her capacities in the sense of legitimate material and bountiful favors if ever the occasion arose. Of course I could work this out nicely, how fucked up can it be to actually follow through for once.