prose

"Penny For Your Thoughts"

Can I offer you a penny for your thoughts?
As a matter of fact, how about three?
One penny for you, one penny for me,
And one penny for our minds engaged not so sexually.
Getting intimately closer as we approach the
Climatic altitude of nude, mental, sensational… conversation.

Because I’m trying to get to know everything about you
From the neck… UP.

So these are not your typical, sexual, poetical prose.
I’m trying to close the door on that all too familiar freaky foreplay game.
With which most guys have chose to approach you.
While they are trying to get deeply imbedded
In the fine fibers of your bedsheets,
I’m trying to find and define the fibers of which your mind speaks.
I want to engage you
By putting a two karat solitaire diamond ON YOUR MIND
Marrying your every thought!

I want to lick every inch of every crevasse
So I can get an oral fix from each orifice
And taste you passionate IMAGINATION.

I’d rather be naked and exposed, holding you
As we’re lying and you’re crying
While confiding and describing the tough times you’ve had in life
And how you don’t know
If you can keep a relationship long enough to be somebody’s wife.

I wanna feel the heartbeat of all your inner rhythms
As they lead me toward your warm, wet, waterfalls of feminine thoughts.
…And I’ll swim in them.
From backstrokes, to breaststrokes,
I’m penetrating every entrance… to your mind.
Taking my time to find out everything about you.

Did I ever tell you about how you
Fell asleep in my presence?
And your mere essence
Kept me awake for hours
As I cowered with this feeling
Of sexually unadulterated mental connection?

And as you lay by my side
I pushed the blinds aside
And took the time in the moonlight of that night
To count 72 eyelashes
On the upper eyelid of your right eye!
Because when you sleep
Your eyes remain open slightly.

And while we probably moves in too quickly into some sexual shit
I’ve always cared more about the explicitly illicitness
That came from between you lips.. meaning your voice.

So now I am standing here
Ready to trade in all the sexual acts that we’ve preformed
For the chance to reform the very foundation
And the basis of our relationship.

So I reiterate my opening statement
And I offer you another penny for your thoughts.

hygiene

so as the christmas commercials begin to roll in before i've had a chance to carve a pumpkin or hobble away from the thanksgiving table...i begin to think about the whole process of gift giving...

i'm not all about getting a present for someone just because you made awkward eye contact with them that one time at your friend's sisters dogs 13th birthday party. my reasoning is simple:

giving shitty presents makes me feel like a shitty person.

every year my mom and i stay in a hotel in san francisco for a couple nights before christmas...to chill...to get all our shopping done. after the whirlwind 2 days are done, i realize that i've only gotten stuff for 4 people. tops. this is due in part to my lofty college student budget, but much more so about the fact that i find it suuuuper embarrassing to give crappy, generic gifts. i might as well write a letter saying "i don't know you well enough to get something you'll actually like, but i had to get you something cuz i know you're going to get me something, and i don't want to be the asshole friend who didn't get you anything."

all i have to say is: the day i get you a bar of soap or a scented candle...

.......i don't even know.

smug

you know that place where it seems like everything is falling into place?
where you love what you're studying?
and when you take a good hard look at the people in your life, you know they're all supposed to be in it?
where you're working hard and hardly working?
where you just think about it all and silently sigh with a grin?

i'm there. and i don't want to leave.

me gusta

i like:

basketball shorts with pockets, people who actually care about your answer to "how are you?," set by hairplay (curlyhairsavior), the sound of walking on gravel-y dirt with sneakers on, driving stick, rap with a sung chorus, every show on the discovery channel, any show that is deadliest catch-esque, funky v-necks, sleeping with no top sheet, little lamps instead of bright overhead lighting, skull candy headphones, burgundy, the tri-tone iphone text message jingle, albums where everysinglesong is more dope than the last, public transportation, hand-written notes, cutoff sweatpants, trey songz "ready," communitychannel (youtube), cars with bass, sleeping nakey, bagel with cream cheese and jelly, slightly stoopid, jemimah, urban looking sneakers, kitchens with an island, her, her, her, him, her, him, her, epiphanies, and you.

:)

yeeeee

PRIDE
IS
TODAY

its gay time. ;)

my other whole

i have a bone to pick with the saying "i'm just looking for my other half." my reasoning is simple. it assumes that i am only half of a person until i can frantically find another person to make me whole. i feel like it is far too easy to fall into the trap of thinking that you need another person to share your life with just for validation. nobody wants to hangout with the person who is forever textingcallingyearning for their significant other.

it may sound like i'm a hater of love, but i am just the opposite. i'm probably one of the most hopeless romantics you'll ever meet and nothing makes me happier than seeing my friends in genuine, healthy relationships. but my whole thing is why the eff do we "settle"? i'm gonna take my sweet time to wholly discover who i am [not in the context of being with someone else] that way, when i do find that oh so special someone, i'll know that it is me that they have truly fallen in love with, and not the person i molded myself into to fit this relationship. if nothing else, i'll fall asleep a lot better knowing just that.

so if you're out there: i'm looking for my other whole...who doesn't need me, but wants me. [miss independent, holla]

and when i find you, we can become a superwhole or something...and fight off aliens and shit [it's gonna be tiiiiight]

que sera, sera.

noactiv

so i'm watching "CIA Secret Experiments" on National Geographic [party times] and one of those soft sepia-tone glancing off to the distance 1930s headshots [you know what I'm talking about] comes on the screen. while the picture should stimulate some sympathy that the man had been systematically and covertly tortured by the CIA, i just can't get past one thing:

why does he have the best skin i have ever seen?!

digging into my memory banks, i can't help but notice that everyone in those old school staged photographs look like the "after" picture of a Proactiv commercial.

i don't know what was in that Cold War water, but pour.me.a.GLASS!

youtube gems

so in the absence of having a facebook, i have done 3 things:
1. gotten a life
2. decided to start writing on this thang again
3. discovered some tittilating musical talent on youtube. the undiscovered, unsigned kind. the best kind. some of which i thought i would share with you :)

Airto

Gabe Bondoc

Passion

Alain de Courtenay

Koko Kaina

[all of those thingies are links, so waste a good hour of your life enjoying this musical interlude :) ]

Comeback Season

She's baaack!!

Contrary to common belief, I had definitely not forgotten about my little blog venting portal. My 2 month long hiatus from writing was more the result of a metaphorical "stage fright." In many ways, I think I had set the bar too high with my first couple posts. Profound life messages, underground musical woes, etc. is a bit much to live up to when I just feel like shooting the breeze of the day, from the comfort of my bed. So I think this little blog of mine is broadening her horizons. Getting some new material. Random, lighthearted material.

With that, I have 2 woes:
1. Best I Ever Had is turning into Crank That, and Drake is taking a few too many notes from Weezy [starting to like the sound of our own voice just a tad, are we?]
2. Based on the profound discoloration and protruding angle, I think I broke my left pinkie toe -_-

Other than that, life is jolly. Let's see where this lococrazay summer takes me ;)

Internet Casanova

Beware: People on internet may not be as clever as they appear.

Now, when i say "people", i mean me. As i was reading over my blog (and wondering why i come off as absurdly emotional) i couldn't help but notice that my way with words in person would lead one to believe that i would write much like a babbling 13 year old with a st-st-stutter.

when i am behind my computer, time is on my side. i can rearrange my commas, thoughts, clauses, ideas...without the computer giving me that squinty look i get when someone (everyone) can't understand what the hell i am trying to say.

so i guess what im trying to say is. give me a little sympathy? im fully aware of the metaphorical blood clot that must exist between my thoughts and my mouth. but know that the path from my brain to my fingertips is crystal clear - equipped with mood enhancing font choices, quiet (parenthesis), and timely punctuation.

Hands & Feet

If you hold my hand
I'll show you the path
My path
If you let me lead
I will always follow
Take a trip down my lane
to know what I've known
Discover what I have not
New eyes
Careful perspective
Put your hand in mine
I'll hold it tenderly
Feel the pulse that determines
My path
Your path
Seemingly different
Knowingly the same
For you are me

and I am you

He is she
Up is down
Love is life
I am alive
You are alive
We are in love.

What keeps my feet moving?
My heart beating...
My soul living?
It seems as though
I can never get up
without tasting dirt in my mouth
My knees bloody
My palms sweating
My mind wandering, wondering
when it will find the one
The one that will stay
I promise I'll never leave.

wiggin' out

my life is so f*cking ridiculous. i have 17 tests next week, my best friend's dog that she's had since Charizard went for $75 got run over by a wreckless tractor driver, AND i just stubbed my toe. FML.

pause.

i sat in the exact same spot, in the exact same chair, and the exact same table, for 5 long hours today. brutal right? luckily, this happened to be after all my classes and the only thing i was working on was a mean wifebeater tan. nonetheless, i had moments of stress that rivaled a pathological liar taking a polygraph test (Ja'von: you are not the father). after a while, i realized that my lapses of anxiety had nothing to do with the events occuring in my own life, but of those around me. spring break nightmares. mind-blowingly horrible professors. undercooked cafeteria burgers. missed flights home. long overdue make-ups. heartwrenching breakups. all seemingly unfair and undeniably stressful events. but it got me a'thinkin...

what is stress? really, at its core, what is it? here's my best shot. stress is the gap between how things are and the way we think they should be. i shouldn't have another test next week because we just had one yesterday. my friend shouldn't have gotten cancer, shes so young. i should have gotten into harvard. i shouldn't have gotten dumped.

what i think we all (myself definitely included) fail to see is that there is no gap between the two. things are the way they are supposed to be. i do not mean that the horrible situations some people find themselves in are in any way ideal, but it is the situation that they need to be going through at that point in their lives. i think that it is easy to get caught up in all the bullshit we go through, and makes it all too easy to forget that the failures we have experienced in our past are crutially responsible for where we find ourselves today. its nearly impossible to not resist the shitty circumstances we find ourselves in, but if we are able to step back and realize that this is how things need to be right now, perhaps we would be able to take those horrible moments with a grain of salt. life blows sometimes. but if you allow those sucky times to pass you by with no regard to how to better your future, then that is what you should lose sleep over.

when one door closes, another one opens. sure, some doors get slammed in our faces. break our noses and jam our fingers. allow yourself to nurse those wounds for a while, but don't forget to look up and see the other one opening, slowly but surely (revealing milk and cookies :)) on the other side.


(p.s. none of my original fml premise was true. but if it were, the stubbed toe would've for sure put me over the edge.)

(p.s.s. if it could, my brain would be sending a continuous flow of taquitos, blood orange, in n out, soccer balls, ben n jerrys, hi-chews, crepes, froyo, mochi, boba, and pho the ucla way. just keep swimmin ;))

shhh!!

im starting to get a little teensy eensy bit worried.
here is my cause for concern: there is a fine line between superstardom and anonymity, and Drake is straddling that line with the balance of Michelle Kwan on an ice rink. but with So Far Gone as his triple axel into the limelight, im worried that just a lil bit of his pizzazz will be lost on MTV.

ill compare him to a diamond. diamonds wouldn't be all that tight if everyone had one. you feel me? im not trying to hear Best I Ever Had on the tail end of I Kissed a Girl on 94.9. or the November 18th Soulja Boy remix.

i gotta tip my hat to mr. aubrey graham and wish him great success, but let's let the rest of the world remember him as paralyzed-cuz-they-hadda-shoot-the-black-guy jimmy on degrassi (because between you and me, we both know his talent has no handicap). deal?

mum's the word.
;)

p.s. weezy: get him off your tour!

WHORE

so today, about 3/4 of the way between doing nothing and feeling guilty about just that - i realized something. i had seen traces of it before. and i had an inkling it still lurked somewhere not too deep within me. but there it was, clear as a white tee after a water balloon fight. and well, there's no denying it now.

im a whore. a huge one. not the pantsdroppingripoffmyshirt type (0:)). but another kind. a wit whore. a smarts whore. an intelligence slut.

allow me to explain. i have always found something undeniably sexy about those with some quick synapses within the cranium. im not talking about our next newtons or einsteins (though you gotta give the man some credit for havin' a hairdo before his time). im talking about those people that are out trying to learn stuff. there's that certain je ne sais quoi about someone that doesn't have to try real hard, but just seems to know a lot about the inner-workings of the world. i like people that are just straight-up adventurous, passionately so. people that just want to get out and see the stuff not many people can say that have, and that will push me to do the same. someone that has a style and swagger that is their own, but is open to new music/lifestyles/places/experiences. someone that can go word for word with tupac, but can also sit through a symphony and appreciate it in its own right. an individual that can go tit for tat with my humor, and keeps me forever guessing as to what they're gonna say next. a person with undying curiosity and that flame within them that pushes them to learn what they dont yet know.

i wont be so self-richeous to say that i dont deeply appreciate someone thats soft on the eyes (:)), but as the physical fades over the years, it is the mental that will separate us from our peers. as my body starts to sag in all the wrong places, i will work to make my mind inversely compensate for that change. and the person whose hand i hold through that journey will be doing the same (and will kick my ass if i dont ;))

ignite me with intelligence.

:)

It happened. . .

...i gave in. my will couldn't keep me away. and my mind was begging me for a place to rest it's random thoughts. so, here it is. yet another blog. i haven't decided whether or not im going to fully jump on this blog bandwagon...recording my every thought/move/inclination/whisper. or if it will take some divine intervention for me to keep this thing chuggin'.

im new to this whole thang, so id be lying if i told you i knew what to expect. but, i can promise by following this shizz right hurr, ill do my best to give you respite from a monotonous day.

here goes...