I am not Scrooge

Before you knight me as the Ebenezeria Scrooge of our generation, I will tell you about the value of Christmas, to me. It is a time to celebrate and love one another because JC does. Some how we have made it the time for us to get temporary amnesia about our financial crisis and splurge. I myself have suffered from this self-inflicted amnesia, however the pain that hit me after January first was too great for me to have a repeat performance. So now I keep things in perceptive, I say "I love you" more often during Christmas, smile more and then have my sanity and the ability to pay my bills in January. All this to say...I am a sorry student with a sorry bank balance. Merry Belated Christmas to you! Hah!

Insomniac

In my sleeplessness, I had wonderful entries prepared for today. I was going to write my little heart out (I have a small fist, therefore my heart must be small). To my dismay, here I am drawing a blank. What was that grand idea I had? Really need some memory drugs, something to help me remember important things. Well, now I am at work and surviving on 3 hours of sleep. (yawn)...

(Laughing)

I love comedy, no I don't mean sappy British comedy but Seinfeld stuff. That is relentless and unforgiving. It laughs blatantly at others and enjoys it. Does this make me a horrible person? I am witty to a fault, I make lame jokes that I only wish could make me as popular as Ellen, minus the homosexuality. (I hear the male is much too precious for me to opt for a same sex partner.)Ahem.

Anyway where was I? Ah, yes, comedy. So, I love comedy that celebrates both our weaknesses and strengths but mostly our weaknesses. Isn't it the acknowledgement and laughter at our humanness and flaws that allows us to live another day?

Well it's early in the morning (1.00am) and I should be resting my pretty big head now, yes my head is pretty and it's big. haha, I crack me up. Ahem, excuse the lame joke. Is it safe for one to be one's own best fan, because I am mine.

Two Thousand and Four

I can't freaking believe it! The year is almost over! Bloody painful year it has been. No actually, it was bittersweet. Love, pain, laughter, tears...the whole nine yards. If I wasn't so reserved or paranoid I would tell all the sordid details, but I have this idea that I will be famous and then all my revelations could bite me in the ass. So I will spare any possible eyes that ravenously read blogs from the life of the dancingseahorse! hah!

So this year I learned that I should send e-mails to people I love more frequently than every six months. It takes a death for me to see that. Talk about dumbass. When I hurt I tend trivialize my pain and loss, as I am doing at this moment. Anyway the person I lost will never be replaced.

This year I actually learned how lovable I am too. I mean this guy just landed into my space and just loved me. I am usually confused though, I think he loves someone I know and not me. I simply think I am far too difficult to love and yet here is one who has not found that out, yet. As I am now accustomed to being twice deeped in love, what a raw ball of emotion I will be if he ever discovers that I am difficult and a little unbearable. Okay this is not low self-esteem. It's not! It's just an allergic reaction that flares up now and then from being tossed around by some thoughtless imbeciles.

Anyway, Happy New Year to me, and those who read this blog. I hope you had less pain and more laughter than I did this past year.

Be great, be glamorous, be creative, be lovely, want it all dammit!

Metro Life

There is a woman I see several times a week as I wait for the subway. She has raised my curiosity but I dare not satisfy it. However, I will state what raised it in the first place...

She sometimes wears a hijab (Muslim head dress) and she does not sometimes. This is puzzling because, I wonder so is she Muslim some days and not on others?

Another thing she does which leaves me both disgusted and amazed is that she can spit. She spits further than any woman I have ever seen. After seeing this several times, "I thought maybe we can start the Spitolympics." I bet she would be one of the finalists.

Living in the metropolis as I do, I see the strangest things but keep walking because...well it is part of living in the city. This afternoon a woman who probably had waited or ran to catch a bus watched the driver shut the door in her face. All she could do was scream obscenities at the driver as he pulled away...It was also avery cold and windy afternoon and waiting for a bus is especially unpleasant at such times. He (the driver) controlled his little world (the bus) and, must have felt great. Let's hope the bus to heaven won't be driven by him...assuming we will be taking a bus to heaven...

The Statue of David

Have you seen the statue of David? It is the standard for what a male should look like. The legs, the torso, the derrire...yes it is wonderful. So I think that Michangelo knew what the male body ought to look like. It's 2:26 in the morning and I am watching something about Italy, David just happen to be part of the documentary. Before you point out my shallow, superficial opinion, I fully appreciate great art which is what the statue of David is. However, I still maintain that it sets the standard of what the male should look like. So there.

Just wondering

Do you ever wonder what Eminem will rap about when he runs of things that make him mad? I mean he rapped about his mother, his ex-wife, the current administration...what's next? Perhaps he will rap about the ridiculous pepto-bismol advertisments or maybe about the annoying Fox News casters...I guess we will see.

the shadow

she wonders about him sometimes, she is never sure what to think of him. he is a like a shadow that she notices on a hot summer day. he seems to remind her of herself...that can't be though. he is, after all, male. because he is merely a shadow, she never dwells on the fact that he does exist. she is afriad of building castles in the air, so she doesn't. she merely watches the shadow and enjoys its antics. she is, "taken"...by the shadow.

Crossroads

I have once again reached the crossroads of my life when I start to wonder whether I am good at anything. I wonder what I will do with the rest of my life. I wonder whether the path I have been trodding is the right on. I have had this idea of what my life should be like and what mark I wanted to leave in the world, but daily that mark fades. Obstacles seem to choke my dreams and cloud my vision. I feel like I am grappling in the dark for something that will prove that my life accomplishments thus far weren't all for nothing. I hate to blame "the universe" for messing with me lately, so I look for faults within myself. I am responsible for what I am, who I am and how I am perceived. So I wonder, what the hell have I been portraying?!!! Hmmm granted I have been told that I am only in my early twenties and that I have time to figure out what I want to do. I would prefer to be doing what I want to do for the rest of my life or at least have an idea what it is!!!..... Darn these crossroads

My Mind

The dust settles and the noise becomes a distant memory, I wonder whether the vague memory really is a memory. Could it be a mere dream that I, in my desperation, created? I wonder whether the lingering honey drops are really as sweet as they seem. My mind has a way of adding beauty to even the foulest of things so, I am uncertain of the figures it presents to me. This may sound like absolute madness but who can claim they have not been deceived at least once by their mental wondering? And so I look at the honey-sweetened memories and wonder if they really are mere dreams I created...

A New Day

The gloom hangs over her head...obstructing the light. So in her opaque cocoon she broods over inexplicable terms of endearment. Today she is covered in a cloud that she can't escape. She wonders how this cloud appeared without warning and how she can dispose of it. Today she is concerned about that which she didn't know of a few weeks ago...

This is what a new day brings forth...the unexpected.

Nyquil

If you ever want to have a conversation where you are suddenly Catwoman's accomplice or where you can suggest setting a car on fire, have some Nyquil. I do not take acoholic drinks so when I took some Nyquil (for a sore throat) and decided to have a conversation some absurd things took place. I am sure the other person enjoyed talking to the highly intoxicated me...I on the other hand tried hard to make sense of the conversation and chipped in my two-cents of setting cars on fire.

The last time I took Nyquil, I decided to watch The Lord of the Rings. Since then I have come to personally know Frodo and have had an encounter with Shmigo. Now who can ever claim such? Thanks to Nyquil, my life has been vibrant! I have met Frodo Baggins, been Catwoman's accomplice and suggested a car be set on fire. I think I will send a letter to the makers of Nyquil to thank them and suggest that they increase the alcohol content to fifteen percent rather than the ten percent...

However, as a control freak, I hope not to get more sore-throats that will require the usage of Nyquil. It is absurdity in a bottle...who thought bluish-green medicine was brilliant anyway?!

Hmmmm

Okay so anyone who has read my posts might wonder if there is anything more to me besides being a lovaholic, dreamer, food-lover and whatever else you see through my words. I will add to this list by mentioning my curiosity. I am curious about people and how they think and make decisions. I am intriguied by irrational behavior. I probably act irrational at times but not without my knowlegde or consent. Yeah, I think most people are surprised at their reactions but when I react I am fully aware of my actions....unfortunately. So unlike the average person I can't claim ignorance for my actions. This might stem from the fact that I like to be in control. This goes to the extent of not fearing for my life when I am in danger...simba "I laugh in the face of danger, ha ha ha" (yes I love Disney).

Hence I wonder how and why people apologize claiming ignorance....hmmm but then maybe I am just wierd. Well maybe I should try being reckless without knowing I am being reckless. (This won't happen as I avoid all intoxicating substances...except chocolate).
That was my thought and now back to what I do best...learning.

Days...

The days never seemed shorter, faster, exciting as they do now. The sun seems brighter even blinding on a cloudy day. The rain drops more refreshing pounding against my body. The breeze seems lighter, tender like a kiss, only more fleeting. The smell of flowers is more intoxicating than ever before. I feel the grain of sand on the beach more acutely, and my morning showers are more cleansing...I think you have awakened my senses.

The Window

"GSM my hinney", I feel like yelling as I sit in my window. I am afraid to breath, just in case I lose my signal. I listen to the voice that colors my nights a deep dark sensual red at this moment in time. I never thought I would know this window so well...I only wish I had a better view. I look into the apartment across from me, I am glad thay they don't seem to mind that I, the shadow in the window might be a voyeur...or perhaps it's a bargain. They get to see more as I tend to have an aversion to clothing. I look into their apartment and they get to see a naked girl, what a sweet deal. So there I sit in my innocence listening to the voice that colors my nights a deep dark sensual red and sends me to bed with a smile...

Dreamer

So I am strange right? I think I am anyway, to be otherwise would only be unlike me (almost said strange). I love white flowers and love to sit in the darkness of my room and yet I love rooms with windows...nice big windows. So the sun can come splashing in (not that it can wake me). I am a dreamer whose dreams once coiled and dried and were hidden. Cynism reigned my demeanor but now I see the dreams resuscitated. Now I can dream of unicorns and running free with the wind in my 'fro.

I am stubborn yet fold to undenying love...(inside I am screaming "Crap I thought I was tougher than this!"). I look serious but I am actually a clown...yeah a cynical clown (aren't all clowns cynical though). I am not sure where all this is going but....anyway I am a dreamer again.

When I think of you

When I think of you I see the strength that I need to breath
When I think of you I see the genius that I love
When I think of you I feel your warmth
When I think of you I feel your tender kiss
When I think of you I hear your raspy voice that sends tingles down my spine
When I think of you I hear you telling me you love me
The funny thing is I have never met you...

I will only ask you once

I will only ask you once to come with me so we can soar to higher places and leave the base things behind...we will live on the feathery clouds that you wish you could touch today, I will only ask you once. The life that you dream of daily awaits you here beside me, decide what you want because I will only ask you once to come with me so we can visit the worlds of the sea and those in the heavens together...

Even though I believe in love and dare to love ...I also believe that love can be found again so I will only ask you once.If you expect me to repeat my offer expect the vision of you and I to fade like the clouds on a hot hazy summer day...

....because the vision can only be asked to appear once...

Falling

Weightless I fall like a feather through the mist of past memories,
Peering, searching for a clearing, for a light that will guide me to the diamond-like dew covered meadow of gracious solitude that I long for today...

Softly I fall into the enticing embrace that only chocolate-covered strawberries can offer.
An embrace that only the stormy dark waters of the ocean would dare to invade. 
A grasp that wraps around me like a burgundy warm velvet sheet ... 

I fall like the cascade of a waterfall, disturbing the pool of calm blue liquid that awaits to enclose me, breaking my free descent.
I should awaken but the fall so sweet lulls me into deeper sleep...where I fall through all the lands that others can hardly think of.. 

This Morning

Last night my mind was full of great and wonderful ideas...I was thrilled at the thought of painting the words across my piece of cyber-world. But to my dismay I awoke this morning in the most despicable funk and all the brilliant ideas of the wee hours terribly smeared with a murky glob of forgetfulness...

So this morning I am mad at the world and I don't even care why. This morning I will mentally dismantle any unsuspecting human that comes my way and rubs me the wrong way (as if there is ever the right way to be rubbed). This morning I won't smile, I will pout until heaven gives me a reason to smile again...

 
p.s. I am being a mere brat because today is actually a beautiful day...blue sky and all but dagonit I am mad!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Fuschia Locket...

I am kicking myself now. I am doing it because I realize my nature makes my life more twisted...yes I said twisted. I never choose the simplest way, ever. It's as if I am allergic to simple situations. I unconciously live by the rule : if something is difficult then do it. And so I find myself today embroiled in a fuschia locket of emotions I thought I had escaped from...
Evasion seems impossible at this point...I am bewildered beyond my wits...well not really but bewildered still. I know that my actions right as they may be can and will cause an outcry, an earth-shattering outcry, well maybe just a glass-shattering outcry. But my curiosity roars to be satisfied and with caution, as much as i can muster up anyway, I proceed deeper into this fuschia locket of emotions I thought I had escaped.

Waiting

She sits and waits for what she doesn't know. She has been told to wait for something though. Her mind is repressed into not questioning so she waits for what may not come and if it did she would never know it had arrived. So she waits sitting on her stool, dressed in her best attire. What she was never taught was that a woman can reach as far as she wants... Reach beyond anyone's dreams. She was never told that waiting for something to happen can be a deadly disease than cripples one's spirit. So now with a wilting spirit she sits, waiting, worrying that what she waits for may never come...

Floating

I sleep in soft clouds surrounded by love, peace, joy
My sleep is long, sweet, restful
I am simply afloat on a cloud

I drift where the winds of the mind blow me...
Floating over troubles, rugged moutains, and rough seas
I peer down at the world below...pondering on how I may save it
But soon my mind rests from it's heroic stance to be renewed...

I sleep on velvet clouds surrounded by all that is wonderful
My sleep is luxurious even when,
I am simply asleep on the floor

Strawberry Dreams

Sweet and red tender to the taste....

My dreams are sweet hazy memories sprinkled with sugar...yes sugar
They cloud my reality...I stumble grasping for more
For more of that sweetness...don't want to lose it
But as day break comes....my dream, a furious red strawberry dream, dissipates

I awake and see you
Perhaps that was not a dream after all
My sweet furious red strawberry you

 

Caramel dreams

So I am a dreamer living in this current state of things...where dreaming is squashed like an over-ripe fruit forgotten, trampled. However my resilient mind insists on dreaming against all odds....

I believe that I can save the world, I believe that I can find true love, I believe that I can put a smile on your face...

My dreams are as uninhibited as lightening and as strong as the wind that tears down walls. Do you dare to stand against my dreams?