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Chilled energy fixes me incomplete; writhing without sleep, I live an unfinished lie.
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Chilled energy fixes me incomplete; writhing without sleep, I live an unfinished lie. Here my thoughts and holes. Fill them in, please. I can't finish on my own. ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Historically, has understanding, has more knowledge about the utility of any artifact give rise to anything but breakthroughs; furthering that object's capacity, efficacy, and artistic variety. The same could, and should, be said about relationships, about sex and sex differences especially. Africa (third world tribe) VS. India (Kama Sutra) Then, India (Stalled) VS America (Post-Kinsey) & Sex differences of the same regional comparison (this is a paper I have to write for my minor...so bear with me). What is this bias: that understanding in any way could restrict imaginative response or could be fundamentally harmful in any way? Knowing is fun. Bring on the games. |
| "Update your blog" it says. It doesn't say, "I know you're writing a Novel. Good Luck, Young Man! I support you. Blog about it, yeah!" No. I just get an e-mail that says, "Reminder: Update Your Blog Today" like some evil solicitation. I'd set the damn thing as spam if I could, but WDC doesn't have that power yet. It's alright WDC. I still love you. No. What happens is that these 'Reminders' build up. They contribute to my 'INBOX' size. Some switch flips. Boom. I get an e-mail in my real account, which is linked to my phone, which beeps in class, which I check, which says "You have e-mail on Writing.com." I think, duh, "Duh." I'm writing a novel. I'm busy. Shut up. But my anger doesn't commute. There are...'Options' and 'Menus' I need to select and navigate in different orders and that's too f***ing complicated, OK. Deal with it. I am. I'm angry. I'm writing a novel. Be well. BE WELL. Love me. Because I might not in a few days. Coffee s***s. Cheers, -Vince |
| Workshops are so much fun. Writing scripts is really a blast. Watching the girls run around spouting lines - oh, my God, I could fall in love. .......... Rosa. Pincho gringo. Maria. Idiota thinks we don't speak English. ....... Rosa the actress is played by a Castilian Spaniard. Maria is blue eyed flaxen hair girl that looks of south Mexico and breathes sweet tart into her words. Oh, their young; so, so, attractive. I love being back in college. I really do. I mean it. I really, really, do. Too bad I'm no good at it. Cheers, -Vince |
| Confidence is a bright and wonderful thing. Some might call it evil. They call it evil because it makes a man better than other men, better in a way no insidious little wraith could ever hope to be. Confidence, like a black art, can take stature and stretch it; turn a 5'9" man into a 6'4" sex god; shoot 'come'-beams out of blue and brown eyes alike - really turn what's there into something important. What little men don't tell you, and nasty little girls don't want you to know, is that confidence is bred in talent and talent is work. I earned the right to walk over you with my eyes. I am worth the woman on your arm. You will step aside. God, I love it. |
| I fell in love again - with the same girl, no less. Apart, it was easy to imagine others. But, all it took was one look, one smile, one touch, and I was gone, again, grasping chairs and counter tops to keep my hands from wondering. I can not do but to seize this day. I have caved and in so doing have stuck myself in fantasies of her. All night and morning, until I've busied myself past thinking, our lives and great moments play out in vivid dreams. I have to hide myself between water and cereal, painful hardness pawing thump-thump-thump in my pajama pants. Biologically, I don't know if I have much choice in the matter. My instincts managed to infect everything. I can't think straight. Even when I can, I see her and all her negative must fall away, if it even ever existed. My rationality may be cowering in lust's shadow. I might not plan my day without trying to work her in. I need a nap such is my drain; my will drained away staying away. I should say it. I should say it. I should say, "Sweetheart, I'm in love with you." I wish I was a little more man when it came to women. |
| Winter and its blooms fail to catch the cold light. Bathed in richness, held in comfort of home and stance, red flowers wilt, and fall, and take with them the hope of someone for me. Winter comes and, again, I am alone another season. |
| Dinner parties are a great place to pick up lines, especially when alcohol is involved. Too bad all I managed to write in my notebook was, "I forgot." |
| Sometimes, I wonder about tonight and why it's still so empty. Will I survive tonight. Not able to manage 500 words a day for a month, how am I to maintain triple that? Such work to do; such a rearrangement of my life as to accommodate these healthy necessities like writing, sex, and sleep. Who am I to throw good away, good potential and fun evenings gone, for self-immolating pleasures of nigh' - for a fortnight no less. I am a terrible, terrible, man, but a man with hope, nonetheless. |
| ""What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters. You can't reread a phone call.” ~ Liz Carpenter Write a letter to someone you care about, maybe someone you wish to apologize to, maybe someone you miss." Oh, I'm a sucker for letters. I've written a great many in my time; long candlelit nights and bottles of wine fueling my flitted pen. Oh, I'm game for a good scrawl. Dear heart, I am all of woe for your sorrow, for your time alone inside. Know that my mind is with you, and my time is for your betterment. I know its been rough. Know that I am here for you. We're family. Family does this sorry stuff together. You need to get out and stop staring. I'll pull you a day at a time if I must. She's not your only sunshine, shade. We'll find a new light in you, yet. But, you have to get out. No more staring. No more cupric attachments. For god's sake, stop cuddling yourself like she's there. You need to feel the steel of loneliness and bear it out with us in the real world. Don't you dare get trapped. You don't have the right to be so anxious. We're all waiting for you to step forward together. Know we're not going anywhere. Know we expect a lot from you, and that's alright. You can do it. We love you as heartless as we are without you. Come back to us. Make us complete, will ya? She's gone, and we need you again. Sincerely, -Mine mind. |
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