Monday, April 21, 2014

"But I'm wondering where this rope began
Gonna circle around what I couldn't help bring down
It's just supply with demand
Nothing looks the same
Even when there's been no change."

Saturday, April 19, 2014

Feather 19April2014

Sometimes you fall
Sometimes you float
Sometimes you flail
And sometimes
You land on the softest
Most comforting 
Of Peace 
And you can finally 

Monday, April 14, 2014

Note to Self - 30November2012
We do not go out on Friday nights because we are exhausted from what is nearly always a long week. That’s what Saturday is for. Please bear this in mind next time you say, “Sure, yeah… I’m down.”
You are most certainly NOT down. Except maybe for an eight-hour nap.
This bed is so comfy right now it’s feeling even better than sex. And almost NOTHING is better than sex.

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Back-Up Plan - 29November2012
  • Chech:I'm off tonight and out of school by 5:30. I invited her to dinner but almost sure she's gonna cancel. Wanna fill in if she does?
  • Abrit:Second choice... Hmm... Okay, I'll take it.
  • Abrit:But only because you're my best friend. If you were anyone else, I'd tell you to go jump off something dangerously high.
  • C:Where the fuck is that shit?
  • Abrit:You know you're not actually allowed to cuss in front of the consumers.
  • C:Well, he probably knows more bad words than we do, in that Hebric or whatever, as old as he is.
  • Abrit:That's Hebrew and he's NOT Jewish. Dude, something is severely wrong with you.
  • (Where the hell do they find these people??)
There's No Place Like Home.
I come from such a tiny island that, when a plane that I’m on is close enough to allow me to see the ground of wherever it is that I’m about to land, I get completely overwhelmed (and in the case of Dubai, absolutely terrified) at the sight of such a huge area.  My silent panic attack has never once been noticed by airline staff or any other passengers around me.  Even when I’m traveling with family.  This lasts until my flight has landed.
Or for the next six months or so.
But still, I enjoy walking through cities in the middle of the day, just for the joy of getting lost and finding my way back, on my own.  While I’m there… Right? 
Then one night sometime later, I find my plane approaching the familiar lights of home and I can see the ocean surrounding the little island that I love.
And I breathe normally again. 
‘You’re gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul.’ Are you kidding me?? ‘The ice inside your bowl’ rhymes too - and sounds just as stupid. This song has no business being on the radio.
— Ai, my friends.
Tell her I’m not going to chase her. Do I LOOK like I can chase anyone around? I’m FAT!!
— The Bestie. 
Trish Interrupted
  • Mona:I still have your DVDs. And Trish ran away from the group home and came knocking on my door. So we watched Girl Interrupted.
  • Abrit:You watched WHAT?!? With Trish??
  • Maria:Don't let Trish watch Girl Interrupted, are you on crack?? You let her watch that and she'll think it's autobiographical. Next thing you know you'll find her under her bed with a bunch of chicken carcasses!
27November2012 (12:05pm)
Mid-day dreary and still not up-to-par, I’m outside at work and a butterfly lands on my upturned wrist, for just a few moments.
For a full minute after, I smiled my first smile of the day.
I write about her, TO her, every single day.
I think about her all the time.
I wait and hope that I’ll get a reply, 
That she’ll write
That she’ll call
Show up
SHOW me her love.
She surprises me
I know just why I love her 
So much
Most times, 
I sit here
For the silence 
To come alive
With her smile.
“We’re making you soup. Come on over.”
Chicken kadu with steel-cut oats and every veggie under the tropical sun - and rice, of course. Lemon china fina’ denne’ even. For Ellie, the fams and me. Every ingredient in the pot had a specific intended nutritional purpose - just because I’m not feeling well today.
And dad even pulled out his super-secret stash of lemon-lime soda for us.
I LOVE these people. Only partly because of how well they love me.

Scissors cuts paper, 
Paper covers rock, 
Rock crushes lizard, 
Lizard poisons Spock.
Spock smashes scissors, 
Scissors decapitates lizard, 
Lizard eats paper, 
Paper disproves Spock.
Spock vaporizes rock, 
And as it always has, 
Rock crushes scissors.
Rock Paper Scissors Lizard Spock.
~And this is all I care to ponder today - everything else is just annoying the hell out of me. I don’t even want a damn hug - even when I need the damn hug. Bleh.

1:03am: LaShanda is so tired she declared that her religion is Cristopalian.
Lori-Shoes wants to learn more about this new religion by visiting LaShanda at the Cristopalian church tomorrow.
Diva is going along for a new experience with God - and some giggles. 
Because LaShanda and Shoes are hilarious chickies. 

Post-Thanksgiving Dinner Convo - 24November2012 (11:23pm)
Sittin’ around with the ladies, trying to name all of Bone Thugs N’ Harmony.
We got Lazy Bone, Shank Bone, Ham Bone, T-Bone & Chicken Bone.
And Bizzy Bone. He’s the only one we ever paid any attention to. ^_^

I will sneak up on you like the Holy Ghost and SNIPE yo’ ass!
— LaShanda Espinoza

Today is my ‘busy day’. But sometime tomorrow, I’m going to lay out on my bed and write and write.
And I’m not going to quit until I’m exhausted and every ounce of demon and doubt are driven from my soul.
I need some pen-time.
And sometime next week, my writing is going to be accompanied by some chocolate-covered strawberries and some Petalo. Just because.

In light of all the “P.O.C.” mud-slinging I see going on here today - and because today is just too damned slow for my tastes.  
5pm, move it on over here, will ya?  I’ve got shit ta do…
I’m a brown girl
Not a freedom fighter 
(Except maybe for my own)
Not discriminated against
(But then, everyone around me is brown - except for my ONE ;)
And I don’t see the difference
What your skin color is
Or his, or hers - or theirs
Don’t judge before they’ve opened their mouths 
To speak
Don’t judge at all
It’s not your place
Or mine
Or his, or hers - or theirs
Even white is a color
Now can we just shut it and get some GOOD stuff back on the wall?  

I am awestruck. (From: The Musings of A Lesbian Writer)
“Writing can destroy you.
It can twist your unsuspecting soul around its little wordy fingers, crumple it into a ball, stretch it out and tear it to pieces, flinging the alphabetic remains into the night air… 
You give it a bit of love, then ruthlessly shove it out into the world to speak on its own.
Soul crushing.
Sometimes it lands just right and although you still cry, it’s with joy instead of anguish…  
Your soul lives on through your writing and there’s always another project lying in wait.”

From a very inspiring article on writing (‘Writing Can Destroy You’) that I stumbled upon in *whispers* Wordpress.  
feel this.  I know exactly how much of a relief it is to get it all out and onto the page, the enormous emotional weight that’s lifted, when it’s finally over.  The satisfaction, the contentment (even if it’s fleeting, momentary), the sheerexhaustion that I feel when I’m done pouring into and onto and over.  And the love, the pride that I feel in every bit of writing that I produce (except for the ones that are just not right, not good enough, not what I was striving for - those are tossed unceremoniously into the virtual or actual trash bin). 
I just can’t express it the way this article does
I need to learn to write like that. 
need to. 

All This Fuckin' Brilliance. *smh*
In the time that I’ve been living alone, I’ve missed cooking for people.  
And I’ve been craving Mom’s meatloaf.
So I’m making some for the office tomorrow - kind of a pre-Thanksgiving meal.
But in my preoccupied state…. 
I forgot to take out the meat.
And buy the bread.  
And boil the eggs.
I’m going to be up for awhile.
Dalai, si Abrit. 

Three o’clock
You have become so 

Don’t put all your eggs into that basket. There’s a hole in that basket - and you’re the one who ends up falling out.

jad·ed adjective \ˈjādəd\
: fatigued by overwork : exhausted
: made dull, apathetic, or cynical by experience or by surfeit

"So jaded…" 

That song…
Whatever I’m doing, wherever I am - it brings me right back
To her.
And whatever I’m doing, wherever I am…
Just stops.

Ron Pope - "You're The Reason I Come Home"

Somewhere, someone is searching for me - for everything that I am, despite everything and everyone that I’m not.  Someone out there will feel lucky to have my heart.  They’ll feel blessed to have me in their life. And I’ll be the reason they come home. 
I believe in Someday and (finally) I believe in Love. 

BIG bouncer-guy just opened his mouth and spoke.
He sounds just like Kermit. What the…?

I like who I am.
But it appears that I’ve fared so much better as
Who I used to be. 
So much for growth and self-improvement.
Retrospective self-improvement -
There’s an idea…. 

Shut Up & Drive
ChechaRiaBiaMaria:  ”This is ALWAYS going to be your song.  You know why?  Because of that one night back when I didn’t even know how to drive stick - you tossed your keys to me, hopped into the passenger seat and said “Shut up and drive.”  Then you were asleep before I could even ask you how.  You know how long it took me to get to Dededo, driving a stick-shift 4x4 truck that I had no idea how to work?”
Abrit:  ”Oh yeah?  Lemme ask you something…. What kinda trans you got NOW?”  

  • Maria:I need to know that I'm not being led on, that I'm not wasting my time with her. You KNOW how I'm built.
  • Abrit:What, with OCD? You're centering your cup on the coaster!
  • Maria:Shut up.
  • Abrit:*chuckles*

One last thing.. be that girl who laughed at me when i slammed my head in to the door during my dramatic exit from Kings..
— LeeWard

Sometimes, I miss the city.  The noise, the crowds, the bustle.  Even when I was alone, at times it was nice to feel so completely

I know, we’ve met before… Yes, I’m sure. 
Look, chickie… We met a long time ago.  And many times since then.  I just looked a little different.  
You see, you didn’t see me 25, 35, 55 pounds ago (not that it made any difference to me, one way or the other).  You looked right through me, even as introductions were made.  You barely managed a mumbled “hey”, as you scanned the room for more “interesting” (that is, thinner) people.  I wasn’t ‘worthy’ of a second of eye-contact from the likes of you, much less an even mildly polite “hello.”
And if you didn’t take even a moment’s notice of me then - well, I see no reason for you to see me now.  Make sense? 
Your brand of shallow doesn’t do a thing for this woman. But have a good night, okay? 

13November2012 (5:09pm)
Love is stronger than anger, stronger than fear, stronger than doubt
And sometimes, if you’re lucky, larger than life. 
In this case (and this case only)
It’s worth the wait. 

12November2012 (8:26pm)
I need to drive.  Damn the thunder, the lightning and the rain. 
I need to be on the road. 

I lost my veginity.
— S. Grant (on leaving the vegan life)

5.5 years old:  Summer 1980, GATE Summer School Creative Writing class 
I remember liking the way the pencil felt and sounded, writing on a single sheet of paper on the desktop.  Pens require some padding between paper and surface, but pencils are different. 

The Feeling of hipbones against the bed, as I write.
An hourglass, with a waist smaller than I recognize.
The face in the mirror that looks like a woman who looks like me. But not really.
The glass door of the store freezer that closes - with her in it.
Three boxes of chocolate covered almonds on the counter - untouched.
No appetite, no real desire to eat.
Who is this woman in my house? Who is that in my mirror? Standing in the kitchen, shaking her head and walking away?…

يَقولُ إبنُ القيمْ :

لآ يُلحُ عَبدٌ مُؤمنٌ عَلى اللهِ تَعآلىَ في حآجةٍ إلـآ [ قضآهآ ]♥
(" if you |persist| in your prayers and request for what you wish to |happen| from God. So, God will make it happen")
Translation by: (The beautiful and Fierce) Ms. Rola “Tiger” Bawati.  
I  miss her wisdom, her viewpoint, her company, her treasured friendship.  I miss her. <3

She always said I’m a witch…
Once the dark wave of this morning lightened up a bit, this was playing in my head.
The music video I found is terrible.  Cheesy 80’s pop. ^_^

"Building your dream
Has to start now
There’s no other road to take
You won’t make a mistake…
And if all your hopes survive
Destiny will arrive
Bring all your dreams alive”

Insha' Allah
It’s been years now
Since the cold-ish Sunday-ish mornings
I liked to
Wake early
Get into my sweats and slip out quietly
To the Khaled Corniche
Hot Caribou Mocha Blend in hand
Watch the water in the lagoon
Feel the cold breeze on my face, through my fingers
As I wrote the fresh crisp morning into my bookshop hardcover journal.
I can’t do that here.  
We’ve neither Corniche nor cold breeze. 

Tonight was….
HappyExcitingTouchingInspiringBreathtakingHeartwarmingBeautifulLove-filled…. <3
And very HARD. </3
I keep thinking.hoping.praying that she’s going to call, but… She doesn’t. 

Well, that explains it.
The human brain holds the equivalent of up to 1,000 terabytes of memory. 
So… How much of this is subconscious?  And is there a file transfer feature somewhere in there? 

There was a poem I read, one night.  I was told that it was for me.  
But something about the way that it read, something said that it wasn’t.  It was written the night before a plane landed, carrying a man who was coming home to the woman that he loved.
That night, I got a call.  Just a little after I read the poem, the phone rang.  It was her and Heart exploded with happiness and love,  ignoring the voice in my head that reminded me that I knew this call was coming, had SAID that this call was coming - when he got home.
And here I am, almost 2 years later, realizing that I’ve been waiting for that same call - from the same woman who wrote the poem, the same woman who blocked me from seeing her, talking to her.  Waiting for someone who can ignore me, until she doesn’t want to anymore.  Until she wants to come back to me.
Everything she wants - not to see or speak with each other, “space”, “time”…. These are the steps in the stages of grief, to get over the loss of someone.  To let go.  
I deserve better than being “invisible”, ignored, brushed aside.  I deserve to be valued and loved and held.  I deserve to be fought for, when times get tough, when the honeymoon is over and real life and all it’s intricacies set in, planting doubt and confusion.  And I deserve someone who KNOWS that they love me, that they want me - and is PROUD of it.  
She deserves the same - my heart won’t let me not tell her that.  And I know she’ll find it.  She’ll recognize it, when it comes to her. And she won’t have to fight it, think it through for years - when she recognizes her “ONE”, she’ll never let her go. 
If you’re reading this, I’m giving you what you want - whether you know that this is what you want or not.  I have loved you through everything, in a way that I’ve never loved anyone before.  Thank you for the lessons.  
"How lucky I am to have known someone so hard to say goodbye to." ~Unknown.