the beat machine of rhetoric

inkwells

2012-07-24T15:50:00.001-07:00

2 months of exquisite merriment

8 weeks of inspiring wonder

45 days of realized daydreams

It is in this manner that her mind will emblazon the memories

in order to assuage the guilt

and to assist in the easy matter of being deceived by irrationality

plans change

2011-12-30T14:33:00.000-08:00

"we must be willing to get rid of the life we've planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us" - joseph campbell

react accordingly.

Dating is a Game of Endurance

2011-03-29T22:37:00.000-07:00

To win the game that is dating means to love her in ways that the others do not, cannot, or choose not to.

To love, however, does not mean, demand, nor depend on exclusivity.

The sport of dating is all about remaining relevant to the plans of the adored and not about attempts at alteration.
One by one, suitors gamble by taking that walk and take a chance for a chance.
It is about getting on the board, strokes of white attaching advantage.
Presence and participation without insecurity or interrogation.
Waiting, but only actively, as one by one, the board is cleared.
Until the final round where the best man wins.
Where winning, he understood, is accomplished in a discriminating fashion – to achieve first place in reverse.

To "finish last."

peeling it off

2011-01-23T19:33:00.000-08:00

i leave traces of my presence
like bread crumbs to a hungry explorer
looking exactly for what i'm leaving behind
i want to play
it knows that
and, like always,
it will find me.

respite from information overload

2010-10-19T14:21:00.000-07:00

the xx have managed to create a song about the reality of something that many people call "love".

like a morning roast, their sound allows out a slow drip that the mixture of honesty and delusion of wanting something you've willingly abandoned creates.
"infinity" breaks open at the division of every relationship into the two opposing ends of the deal-breaking incident.

ultimately about expectations, the song accurately articulates how the failure to realize how meaningless actions to one means mistakes to the other destroys delicate connections beyond repair. detailing the long withdrawal from intimacy, the arguing "give it up/i can't give it up" crescendo draws out the predicament where one must decide if they want to be happy, or if they want to be right.
and, with that, the tug of war continues on.

*i just needed to focus on something other than political science for a second.
that is all.

A serious mind-body disconnect:

2010-09-06T02:27:00.000-07:00

urges dictate my emotional side while the intellect argues, because it understands, the emotional will not be fulfilled until there is no side to argue.

just words

2009-12-06T21:15:00.000-08:00

its rhythm rocks me to sleep when i'm alone
keeping time with its steady speed, i count the days since i left
listening intently as it tries to tell me what i already know, i try to hear something new

but my heart.
it still moves.

slowly.
it paces on.
quickly.
it palpitates on the idea of a return.

but, still, my heart.
it moves.

Cold Case Warms Up

2009-11-12T00:45:00.000-08:00

On Saturday, October 4th, the San Francisco Police Department received an anonymous tip regarding a fugitive authorities have attempted to capture for years - Love.

Witnesses state Love was seen walking down the streets of the Nob Hill area at approximately 12:30am. One eye witness states Love met up with an unknown companion at the intersection of Mason and Sutter where they met in a warm embrace and walked off together.

This was a major break in the case because Love has been on the run since the late days of December in 2005 when the fugitive fled Los Angeles to the state of New York and ran off the radar.

While residing in New York, Love had no known address or place of employment which led authorities to believe that unknown hooligans had been harboring the fugitive and became that much more difficult to capture.
Authorities had hit a wall in the search and began to speculate that the suspect would never be found until the Summer of 2008 when witnesses reported they spotted Love, once again, running around the Los Angeles area spending a substantial amount of time in the city of Arcadia and Long Beach area.
After some investigation, our detectives were led to believe that it had not been Love but it's doppelganger, Lust.

It was not until it was too late that authorities discovered that they had the fugitive in their grips because it was, in fact, Love under the guise of flashy Lust as to not get caught.

But authorities learned far too late for, once again, Love had fled.

After a few investigational errors, authorities have been able to confirm that Love is living in the city of San Francisco and frequents the Pacific Heights, Civic Center, Downtown and Embarcadero areas. We have increased our man power and assure you that we will not stop until Love has been captured and finally brought to justice for fleeing arms and breaking hearts.

***UPDATE***
On Saturday, November 7th, authorities received word that Love had been spotted entering Edinburgh Castle surrounded by a crowd of people.
Not willing to lose another chance at catching this fugitive, authorities jumped in after Love.
It took some time, for Love was in the arms of many and in the faces of all, but, in the end, authorities were successful in their capture because there, amongst a sea of smiles, Love had finally been found.

09-09-09

2009-09-09T15:09:00.000-07:00

today is supposed to mean something, but i've learned that when love is in the air every day means something.

Great Expectations

2009-07-24T01:26:00.000-07:00

At 24, all she wanted was her equal.
But, the one that was believed to co-create a love so prodigious and breathtakingly beautiful failed to meet her reasonable yet, unreachable expectations.
Thus, removing the rose-colored glasses from her eyes and forcing her to see the world for what it was and not what she wanted it to be.

At 27, all she wanted was someone to play with.
But, the one that was thought to be of little significance and serve only carnal desires proved to far exceed expectation and become something significantly sweet.
Thus, returning her to the warmth of heart by allowing her to see the love that was and not the lust she thought it would be.

Now, she just wants.
But, what she wants is caught in contradicting thoughts that pushes and pulls her like the struggling to undo a knot.
Thus, keeping her on her toes to her evolving desires while cementing the needs that never change she maintains the precarious balance of the world she has and what she knows it will be.

My Freckles

2009-07-09T00:48:00.000-07:00

My face has spots
Spots you cannot see
I am not talking about my birthmarks, or moles as one would say
These accents do not protrude my skin
These accents are small discolorations under my top layer with ambitions to be seen
They begin at the outer corners of my eyes and sprinkle towards the middle - slowly disappearing as they spread
They rest at the apex of my cheeks when I smile
And support the amber streaks in my orbs
And though they are there
you do not see them
But I do
And he will
And because he will
it will show me
he sees me
Just like I do.

*****
Listening to: "Halo" - the only good song Beyonce has put out since "Upgrade U".

The Other Side of the Bed

2009-06-23T02:18:00.000-07:00

No matter how much I enjoy my solitude and life without a committed male companion, I cannot seem to get used to sprawling out and occupying the entire space that is my bed – at least, not in an unconscious, natural way.

It is as if my relationships throughout the years have conditioned me to expect “him” to come home or have “him” waiting for me to walk through the door.

You see, I have always had “him” and he has always had me.

Half-filling the space with momentary surrogates alleviates some of the innate desire to find a permanent model of my perfect male specimen – 6 feet 0 inches of height so my head can nuzzle fittingly into his chest to listen to his heart, a dark thick mane and eyes so dark I can get lost in them – but it does not all together satisfy my craving.

Though temporarily filled with intimacy real and the design same – eating in bed, watching movies in bed, laughing in bed, kissing in bed – my bed remains covered in the color of snow not yet having met the one that will, with me, paint it glorious shades of passion-enlivened hues.

Until then, I make real attempts to inch over to that side and make it mine, too.

But, the reality of the matter is, that space is waiting.

It remains firm and refuses to be persuaded by the “others”.

That side is “his”.

And my bed will not deny it.

My bed has never denied it.

The denial was my own.

But I am now open for “him” to come home.

Listening to: "Black Milk" by Massive Attack

Why the fuck don't people use condoms?!

2009-05-26T00:35:00.000-07:00

In this day and age, I ask, why - WHY?! - do people not use condoms?

There is so much nastiness floating around out there, but folks are just exchanging fluids like shit don't matter.

No condom, no pussy.

Plain and simple.

I find it extremely disgusting when people don't use condoms. For the love of pete, respect your body enough to not let just anyone enter or enter just anyone skin to skin. What does this say about these folks? Does it say anything at all? I want to say to each his/her own, and it's his/her body to do whatever he/she pleases, but I can't help but feel bothered by it.

Folks walk around with the idea that no one who has an STD will have sex without a condom, but how do you think they got that STD. Most people don't even know they have an STD, because only one-third of physicians in the U.S. routinely screen their patients for STD's and most people don't have symptoms or ignore what's going on in their bodies.
Don't get me wrong - it's true that sex feels much better without a condom, I'm not denying that fact.
And I'm not saying condoms are a must for every situation; if you're in a dating dance where both people have been tested, and not sleeping with anyone else, then go fucking at it. Please.
But if you're just screwing to screw, then not using a condom can really get you screwed.

So, for the love of pete, please, use a condom.

The really thin kind.

With the ribs.

:)

2009-05-08T02:55:00.002-07:00

I was going to write something beautiful and elicit...yes, that does exist...but I don't remember what it was. It's 3 in the morning. I just got home from getting drunk with boys who wanted to know the philosophical reason boys like dominating girls and I came back with the question as to why girls want to dominate boys - because, with the right amount of trust, nothing else can even come close to true splendor. My thoughts are clouded with smoke and whiskey - also known as sex. At the moment, my mind is completely preoccupied with penis. That sounds ridiculously vulgar to say to a vast void of people I don't know, but oh my god is it true. This third adolescence has picked the wrong city to control me in. It makes complete sense to me now as to why I was annoyingly happy the first time I lived here - I had the gift of orgasm every day. And not merely the oral sex orgasm, even though that is one of the best treatments received (jesus christ!) but the you're-inside-of-me-and-I'm-fucking-you orgasm. I was never stressed. I was high and satisfied. I felt wet from birth.

God, am I thirsty.

Why Did It End?

2009-03-03T02:04:00.000-08:00

Because this, ladies and gentleman, is not that kind of love story.

It's a story about two people who were lost and how in their confusion found each other and held on, never wanting to let go.
It's about two people who, through their battles and mistakes with each other, found themselves.
And though the paths they are on may be separate and in opposite directions, in this story, with the help of the other, they ultimately found their way towards the happiness they were seeking when they found each other.

*Written January 2008.

if only this could happen

2009-02-23T11:10:00.000-08:00

*Comic courtesy of xkcd.com.

Female vs. Female

2009-01-12T00:07:00.000-08:00

Why do females have such harsh opinions about other females?

I find it extremely interesting when females tear each other apart for no reason other than making themselves feel better.

I hear so many conversations - it's not really eavesdropping if they're being loud :) - where females are tearing away at another female. They expel harsh opinions on make-up, clothes and attitude. I suppose it wouldn't be bad if it was all in good jest, but these words are like knives cutting apart any female they don't relate with.

Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but the holier-than-thou bullshit attitude that's attached to it has got to go.

For example: Why does this type of female feel the need to call another female "slutty" or "trampy" because of the way she's dressed? Why have a negative opinion about the amount of make-up she's wearing? Or care if she does something else to attract make attention?

Yes, I understand it's all about an antiquated mating process and the females who talk shit don't feel the need to "submit" themselves to these outdated rituals and blah, blah, blah, but I ask myself if that's the way they really feel about it? If they really feel like they don't have to "submit" to these situations, then why do they care about those who do? And furthermore, why demean them?

Why don't they cheer them on for doing what they please and empowering themselves? If the females who talk shit don't want to dress that way, why care? If they don't want that much make-up on their face, why does it bother them so? And they're obviously not trying to attract the kind of male that likes this, so why not thank those females for taking those dudes off our hands?

If it's not a game they want to be a part of, why care about it at all?

Before I conclude this rant, I can't sign off without calling out the girls who make fun of the "plain Janes" the way they make fun of them with the exact opposite attacks. It's a vicious cycle that turns and turns and turns.

The feminine mystique both lives in and transcends the rituals created by society for the definition of beauty. And because we live amongst these "rituals", it's natural to feel compelled to either play along or rebel. But, in the end, we must be intelligent enough to understand the game in order to not care about it - no matter which side we find ourselves on.

The Irony

2008-12-25T03:39:00.000-08:00

He called.
I answered.
We cried.

Back to day 1.

268 Days Sober

2008-12-22T01:17:00.000-08:00

One never ever truly overcomes an addiction. An individual only learns how to better deal with the emotions and intense desire to satisfy that craving. One learns to hold themselves back. One learns discipline.

No matter the situation, a person is never the same after addiction.
Even if they tried to get back to their everyday - doing the same things they did before everything happened - they will never feel the same because they will never be the same. The void, no matter how big or small, will be forever felt and never filled.

It's been 268 days.

I can let go of it as much as I want.
I can do what I do best and go ahead and try to run from it.
Or do what I do better, face it straight ahead risking even further injury.
But it doesn't matter what I do or where I go, because it will always find me.

But today is different from yesterday, because today I can do what I could not do yesterday. Today, I can see the beauty of what was, even in all its ugliness, and appreciate what it has given me: the opportunity to know that no matter how deep a hole I fall into, I will still have the strength to claw my way out, the humility to dust myself off, and the grace to keep going and move on with my life.

why is everyone looking for "the one"?

2008-12-19T01:17:00.000-08:00

It seems as if everyone wants to be paired up these days; and when I mean everyone, I mean most of the women - many as young as 24 - I'm coming into random contact with.

As these ladies tell me about their pursuit of "him", I wonder why these 24 year old women have such a strong desire to get married at a young age. I suppose it may be because they don't think that 24 is a young age but rather think that it's the "right" age.

<--I just had to place this here :)
I think back to when I was a single 24 yr old, marriage was the furthest thing from my mind (much like today); back then I had just ended a 3 1/2 year relationship with my best friend. That relationship was a wonderful part of my life and being with him helped me understand why people would want to marry - so much so that I thought I wanted to marry him, but, in the end, I realized that that was just not the case and my needs and wants took me elsewhere (as they always do). This being the case, when I was single once again, marriage wasn't even a word in my vocabulary, so it comes as quite a surprise to witness single women as young as 24 looking to get hitched.

AND, it's not only women - I'm meeting more men who are all about marriage. Maybe it's a line, maybe it's not. All I know is that more men are talking about it. Maybe it's because most of the men I know are in their 30's and are ready to settle down. Who knows?

Personally, I'm not exactly sure how I feel about the institution that is "marriage". I do however understand the concept of two people coming together and agreeing that their individual lives should run parallel with one another but maintain a connection to the other; kind of like the double helix of DNA. I call this beautiful idea "separate togetherness".

I guess this post mostly has to do with how I've never understood people who are always looking for their next relationship - marriage being the biggest relationship. I kind of put it on the level of an addict looking for their next high - I mean, let's face it, love/like/lust, whatever you want to call it, feels good. I guess I can't fault anyone for wanting more and chasing after it. I just think that maybe that time would be better spent chasing a high you don't need anyone else to give you.

the sensitive art of seduction

2008-12-14T21:24:00.000-08:00

Physical seduction is the first impression one form gives to the other. It evokes carnal desires (sexual/reproductive) by creating and displaying a visual stimuli: women flash pieces of bare skin like the rounds of the breast to conjure up sexual memory and tight jeans to show off the smile of the apple bottom curves that bounce back when slapped and men display strength, sexual prowess, and monetary capital. Though purely animal and aggressive in its M.O., subtly is needed as to not scare off its prey. This seduction is good for temporary situations and (almost) instant gratification.

Platonic seduction is the secondary impression that transcends the physical and aims to create a possibility for a longer and deeper engagement of time together. Though by no means second in importance, since it is a desire of domestication, this type of seduction requires time and patience. It is charged by the need to display a preview of domestic bliss. Both parties set off to show the other their "home life" skills: cooking, fixing things, entertaining. This is where I take a quote from Buffy for the perfect description: in this type of seduction the individuals are "building a foundation for future bliss".

Both seduction stages are broken down further by compatibility vs. chemistry: chemistry is the basis for physical seduction and compatibility is the basis for the platonic seduction. Chemistry fizzles whereas compatibility doesn't (as long as the individuals continue to grow together). Many times, the physical seduction is the need for a simple exchange of basic sexual desires and therefore doesn't evolve into an exchange of more substance. However, the evolution from platonic seduction to physical attraction is a delicate change that (sometimes) occurs naturally when two people share intimate pieces of their lives and can reap more rewards in the end.

I've been the girlfriend all of my life. bouncing back and forth from physical to platonic seduction, but this summer I realized that I don't want to be the girlfriend anymore. Because a part of growing up is learning about yourself - who you are, who you want to be, and what kind of people you want around you - I've thrown myself into what everyone else has been doing for most of their young lives: dating.

More accurately: not creating situations where the possibility of a relationship is likely to occur. But don't think I'm the queen of bad relationships or something; most have been amazing, all but one. You know what I mean, that one crazy relationship everyone is allowed...the relationship tax write-off. You know what I mean. Don't front. :)

Anyway, allow me to elaborate on the previous statement...I have become completely self-involved.

In fact, I think we can all benefit from a little more "me" priorities.
As I get ready to move to San Francisco and begin grad school, I think about the next 2 years - what I'll be doing, what I'll be working on, what I'll be trying to achieve. These next 2 years are going to be all about me, my education, and the goals I've set and ones I have yet to set.

Of course, my friends and family are important and those relationships will not be neglected, but the boyfriend thing...well, I think that can be placed on the mantle for a while. And if I choose to, I can always bring it down and re-evaluate. Until then, I'll be spending my days in school, sharing the warm company of books, hearing the musical laughter of my friends and smiling every step of the way.

It's Hard to Find the Right Fit

2008-12-10T22:40:00.000-08:00

Dating…perhaps the world’s biggest fitting room. I recently discovered that dating is like trying on clothes, particularly shoes since they’re the trickiest. They can look so good on display, but you won’t know how they’ll fit or feel until you actually try them on. And, after careful thought and review, I’ve come to the conclusion that there are 4 types of people (which to I will refer as shoes) out there: casual, dressy casual, office/work, and fancy.

1) The casual shoe is the most basic piece; it goes with almost everything. It’s nothing special really, just one of those things you have around because you haven’t tossed it yet. Doesn’t cause much trouble, but doesn’t excite much either. No fuss, no muss.

2) The dressy casual is a step up from the casual and primarily comes in the form of your cute suede flats that give your jeans a girly, feminine feel. It’s the one article that separates you from the boys. They’re fun, easy, and never let you down.

3) The office/work shoe is that sad pair you have because of some sort of code you had to abide by. They are bulky and only serve a functional purpose; why those are still in your closet remains a mystery.

4) The fancy shoe is, of course, the heel. All heels: the pumps, the platforms, the sexy strappy heels you put on when you’re feeling, well, a bit frisky. They are the ultimate in femininity. They’re extremely easy on the eyes, but not necessarily on your soul; yes, I spelled that right.

Now, let’s break down these shoes as people...

1) The casual shoe is that person you hooked-up with a long time ago, but kept around because, as it turns out, they’re pretty cool…even if you really don’t use them anymore. This relationship is totally platonic; no more flirting, no touchy-feely moments, nada.

2) The dressy casual shoe is yet another person you hooked-up with a while ago, but not that long ago. You maintain a fun and flirty relationship with them because – let’s face it - they still look good. Because they’re good, but not a star, you’re not necessarily looking to put them back in the game every day, but if you’re in a tight situation, they’re your safety.

3) The office/work shoe is basically the one you took for the team. You didn’t really want to do it, but they were there and all your friends were there and you decided to try it out. Afterwards, realizing that’s not what you’re about, you quit, but, somehow, they’re still around.

4) The fancy shoe is that juicy piece of meat you just want to sink your teeth into. This one you bring out as much as possible. You can’t get enough of this shoe…even if they do pinch your feet and you curse them to hell for causing you so much pain. You will take it and like it because they’re so fucking hot. These are the best shoes you’ll ever have.

All of these shoes/people serve a purpose in our lives. We either pick that shoe or become that shoe. It’s just the circle of dating we go round and round in because we won’t know what we like until we try them all on. It’s a trying-on of different types of people, if you will.

Now you ask, “But which style is the perfect fit?”

Well, my friend, that is entirely up to you.

*written in 2007.

new york yesteryear

2008-12-03T23:00:00.000-08:00

Whenever I walk down the crowded streets of New York, or when I'm on the train, or when I randomly happen to see myself still existing on bricks and mortar as I swim past all the din of the city, I remember..."I lived here".

I remember that there was once a girl who lived this life.

My East Coast past never seems to sink in and most of the time it all feels like a dream - a dream that, when in the moment, didn't feel like it was ever going to end and now that it's over doesn't feel like it ever really happened at all.

To give or to receive...that is the question.

2008-11-30T21:01:00.000-08:00

For most of my courting age, I've driven in the slow lane of the dating road.

A self-proclaimed serial monogamist in heat, I saved all of my sexual arousal for relationships and never dated anyone because I didn't want them thinking they'd get anywhere because I knew they wouldn't.
That was before.
Now is a different story.

So now that I'm "dating" (I use the term oh-so loosely) I'm discovering (but not from experience because I've haven't gone completely off the cliff) that there are men who don't like eating pussy. Excuse my vulgarity but I didn't know a polite way of saying it without losing the emphasis I needed.

Boys: Don't you know that if you eat pussy, and eat it well, you can get almost anything?
It's like when a girl gives you the best head you've ever had, you're puddy in her hands. hehe.

Every man I've ever slept with has been all about eating pussy; all day, every day, twice a day. Even the one who was out of practice dove right in there (after I asked why he wasn't attempting it) and tried his best.
Luckily for them, I enjoy giving as well as receiving so the scales weren't unbalanced. :)
So, of course I'm saddened to learn that there are men out there who could just live without it.
The worst part? These are the men who still want blow job after blow job.
Um...no.

I can't speak for all women, but I am speaking for those who feel me, if you want me to blow you, then you need to eat me.

And I mean eat me until I come.

Put forth the motherfucking effort that my orgasm deserves.
Why? Because my orgasm should be as important to you as your orgasm is to me. I am committed to creating such a vibration of sexual energy in your body that you explode and crouch over in pleasure.
"Oh fuck! Oh fuck, Joey! Fuck! Joey! Fuck!" <--I let that memory play in my head over and over again when I want to remember what a good girlfriend I've been.

So, in closure, if you don't eat pussy, or don't do it well (just because you're down there doesn't mean you're doing a good job), please veer away from me.
I will only hurt your ego...unintenionally, of course.
I am past the patience part of my sexual life to wait around for someone to learn as I train them.

So to all the men out there I say: Please, practice. practice. practice.
Not for you, for us.

a crush? not so much

2008-11-26T15:17:00.000-08:00

I am utterly confused as to how I'm feeling and why I'm feeling it.

Some mornings I wake up with you on my mind.
You're the first name I want to say.
I love the taste your name leaves in my mouth, lingering on my tongue allowing me to taste your sweetness behind the bitter first.
I feel those things called "butterflies" floating around when you throw me a smile.
Your puffy lips I want placed all over me. The feel of your soft and moist against my hot and bothered.
A schoolgirl crush with the desires of a woman who has needs that only you can meet.

And all this, I've discovered, is how I feel when I want to see a boy naked.
And more so when I want him to see me, naked. pink. flushed.
A crush? No.
To crush? Yes.

Listening to: Lykke Li - Little Bit