tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6367693667943477972026-03-10T21:37:47.414-07:00Coco's thoughts on public display for your stimulation and amusementcocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comBlogger181125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-66517121679287766682018-09-23T03:38:00.000-07:002018-09-23T03:38:04.781-07:00

When I sought out to find love, I had a concept. When I searched, I tested. When I tested. I screwed up, got screwed, and had fun along the way. While we screwed, I refined and revised After I refined and revised, I almost gave up. Instead, I chose to communicate. When we communicated, we understood. When we understood, the fear started to subside. Without fear, I gave. When I gave, I

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-9691287100013076292018-05-09T23:49:00.000-07:002020-02-09T00:31:46.413-08:00

I have not written here in years.  Nonetheless, today I am here. I discovered something recently. Love. I think I get it finally.  I realized it when I was complaining to my mom about something annoying about my boyfriend.  I knew of course the act of complaining was no different for many as an act of contrition, a cathartic process so to speak.  My beef was just a minor

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-66339775085807777322018-04-24T23:46:00.002-07:002018-04-24T23:48:18.253-07:00

I think I want to get married.  It’s the promises you have to keep part I’m ready for.

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-77171547791278450522016-06-06T20:45:00.001-07:002016-06-06T20:45:18.464-07:00

Ahh, the Madonna. So you basicly, shall I say it sweetly? Get turned the fuck out by one woman.  She's hot.  She's sexy.  She's fun. But you couldn't possibly make her a wife. Give me a fucking break.  This is why there is a divorce rate of _insert Donald Trump haters or suppoters_ in 2016. How about this: we follow our hearts, our passions, and our libidos.  It's

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-43022605756669760422013-11-25T22:41:00.001-08:002013-11-26T13:23:49.079-08:00

Spending all of my free time spread between frail elders and my youthful teen, I'm feeling slightly emotional.  A feeling I have rarely succumbed to over the past 15 or so years.  You probably know those moments as they always creep out in my writings right here in this limitless weird anonymous world you share with me. Tonight I almost shed a tear.  "Run at midnight" opened

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-89071547274200273192013-11-25T12:38:00.000-08:002013-11-25T12:38:17.172-08:00

Why is it that when certain people get hurt they lash out in a very negative, volatile way? I've never understood this approach.  If your goal is to hang onto something you are losing and you are hurt that you are losing that thing, why would you try to beat that very thing down?  Wouldn't you work to reconnect and rebuild the love and tenderness that has slowly slipped from your

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-49560084319824783892013-11-23T22:56:00.000-08:002013-11-24T08:22:07.477-08:00

Why haven't you learned anything? Like Lupe says: "Takes a long time to happen so fast To realize your future is somebody else's past" It's not like we are trying to tango on that old broken bridge with a noose around our necks or anything... but a little bit of life pumping through the old veins wouldn't hurt a person. There's more than one way to die.  To die being reckless 90 mph

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-10793579641216140532013-08-14T14:46:00.003-07:002013-11-24T08:23:44.754-08:00

ooookay doookay. So there was this interesting thing that happened the other day. I was looking over the string of texts from this woman that I tried to help. I should have seen the writing on the wall. Everyone in her life that had known her since birth told me DON'T DO IT! Don't help her, SHE'LL BITE YOU!.  I didn't want to believe someone could be so full of malice and I ignored

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-88702631285751041032012-04-18T16:17:00.002-07:002012-04-18T16:22:05.698-07:00

FireI’d rather not be here tonightI knew from the start this was just a flameI had my fun dancing around it –pretty little sparks Playing with fire with simple urgencyNow I’m trying to finish what I startedSuffocating the longing with an old familiar blanketSomething is dying and you can see it in my eyesYou had to know this ignite doesn’t have long-term potentialI look into the future and I

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-43078282867962295602012-01-31T01:57:00.000-08:002013-11-24T08:23:18.399-08:00

I want him and he wants me. But tonight is not so right..... My mind is wandering to so many other things. Things reminding me of him and probably him of me. But tonight is not so right..... I need some time to miss him or there is no night that is right. Separation feels so right, but recently all I do is to please him So what is with the fight? I am his, just not tonight. But tonight

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-7114230706872436112011-11-02T00:20:00.000-07:002011-11-02T00:34:28.787-07:00

I miss how you gave me so much love. I miss how you gave me the feeling of Ernie & Bert.I miss how you kept me safe and encouraged me to fall.But baby the reason I'm missing you is because you set limits to all those things.A bittersweet whirlwind of passion, you taught me how to be so freeMaybe that's why it hurt so bad when you pulled that rug from under me.If it takes a hundred yearsHe's gonna

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-18492179357925500112011-10-01T12:21:00.000-07:002013-11-25T16:21:52.534-08:00

Thanks to some early morning thought-provocation, I would like to clear up a common misconception. I'm not a person who just 'does what she wants' I'm a person who has made the most desirable choices out of the available options. Most often what I want is not available to me. It might behoove me to opt out in the future rather than make a choice that is merely acceptable rather than stellar.

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-31420586214696087182011-06-25T02:43:00.001-07:002011-06-25T02:45:29.934-07:00

My lover, you left my body with a sweet kiss at my car, holding me in rapture until your fingertips press upon me like spellbound lyrics.  My hips spin rhythmically in figure eights liquid on your strong sweet thighs.  You alone electrify me.  You're needle engraves me with a signature of heat and fluid.  My lover, not my love.. You are the world to me in this moment.

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-40756247066335129502011-06-23T09:37:00.000-07:002011-06-23T12:10:52.807-07:00

I always wondered why I could never recognize my own voiceWords escaped my lips only to be captured in a recording for all of timeI stood confused wondering what was realWondered which one you heardWhen your words mingled with mineI forget it all when your songs soothe me to sleep

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-36645497433671741232011-06-19T23:50:00.000-07:002011-06-20T00:07:59.820-07:00

Today was not just another ordinary day.A day where hours felt like moments and moments lasted a lifetime.Today should have been a troubled day.Instead the bumble bee took me in little bits off the stamenRolled and bounced me through the sky to gently offer me to a swollen pistil.Pleasure filled sensesReplacing forced solitude.Today could have been such a different kind of dayIf I had chosen the

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-66905342768306739962011-04-29T01:33:00.000-07:002013-11-24T08:25:10.321-08:00

I wish I was a musician. I've always been drawn to them. Artists of an unknown sort, yet oh-so-familiar. I tag tracks posting moments that bleed into the veins of my soul... A lyric, a verse, maybe just the rhythm that consumes me. I am a painter. but. i feel deep. art is life.... Why can't I profess in poetic perfection? Why must I express and expose without explanation? I paint, You see,

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-21342575716892694622011-04-01T23:32:00.000-07:002011-06-20T09:05:48.196-07:00

Reggae love in my head.Sonic vibrations rhythm in my soul.I feel the sex in the room behind me.. lovers tasting lips desires hearts bodies and souls.It's raping me, shaking me, taking me.. I said it before.I'm writing here and painting on walls.While love sounds become one with dub sounds.

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-64590931072884076392011-03-31T01:32:00.000-07:002011-06-20T08:44:18.891-07:00

The wind is whipping past my face carrying painful lashings from strands of hair that have become weapons in this icy late Spring  storm. It's telling me I have no business being in love. No business feeling angst. No business feeling loss. No business longing. Leave. Leave little silly child. Travel on... You're hanging on too long... It's time to say goodbye. Time to hurt and be hurt. But most

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-74369654233617945562011-03-21T00:25:00.000-07:002011-06-20T08:56:32.299-07:00

Old man Henry called out my soul tonight. He said I was searching for something. I think he's right. It's that Bronx wisdom mingling with the liquor that pumps through his veins. But he sees something nobody else does as I sit sipping a glass of wine waiting for the table to clear. It could be only he sees it because nobody else's cares. I want to tell him my heart is in pieces and I don't

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-24860726724062042482010-04-10T00:40:00.000-07:002010-04-10T03:08:23.507-07:00

do you trust me?this question's answer is the epitome of personal validation,I've always believed that the only trust that is true is that which comes free of obligation.ex: If you desire commitment from me you ought not require a label for the answer. As a matter of fact, my gift of true trust & commitment should come from my DESIRE to commit my longing for you & only you.... Not the necessity

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-31947994013831260122010-01-20T04:31:00.000-08:002013-11-24T08:28:14.369-08:00

Let the rain come down Does anyone know who Toni Childs is? Well, if you don't you should : http://www.tonichilds.com/ If you know Matt Goening, you should know her, she's of the same genre. When I thing of the Simpsons, I think of her her and vice/versa My personal favorites are Zimbabwe and Stop Your Fussin' http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=utI69alKRUI Listen to this gal and remember to

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-34900118301549891312009-12-06T22:38:00.000-08:002013-11-24T08:28:58.667-08:00

Baby don't hurt me. I've come to see as of late there are infinite levels of love. I am grappling with several levels of this word. This feeling. This feast. This fast. This battle. This gift. The epitome of pleasure. The overdose of fear obsession & pain. Friends and loves

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-2267822524803646762009-06-24T15:44:00.000-07:002009-06-24T15:54:27.383-07:00

This. This is forever. I'm not sure how I get to forever, but you... you I know will be there.Painters

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-58977467943869022782009-06-21T10:11:00.000-07:002010-03-31T03:00:28.958-07:00

I've barely slept. He told me last that he thinks I'm in love with someone else. The man had been involved with intimately for quite some time before we even met. But he didn't understand that my love for that man, although it was inconsequential to he and I and required no clarification my part, was intricate and benign . As were all my past relations...inconsequential in that they had no

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-636769366794347797.post-23570063685551565832009-03-01T23:57:00.000-08:002009-03-02T00:00:08.410-08:00

Dang I can only blame myself.... I never post anymore. My only follower left me. I can't say that I blame 'em, it's preeetty dry in here. And clearly I am now talking to myself. ouch.

cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03239590336803404106noreply@blogger.com