Fill In

Expand my vocabulary.

Fill in the story of my life.
Give me an ending worth beginning.
A new chapter is just what I needed.
Turn the page on yesterday.
In the same way that words become realized,
The ink hits the page when you touch me deeply.
Expand my vocabulary.
Visions of smiles & ecstasy leap off the page.
You & I do things that history can’t write away.
Flesh me out, take me out of my mind.
Your affection gives me conviction.
Make me move towards that denouement.
Can’t wait any longer to find that happy ending.
Don’t leave me hanging on your last word.
Finish what you’ve started.

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Braille

I want to feel for you.

Words & what we choose to remember of them carry us through the darkest nights.
Each day we are born & we die anew by the words that we carry with us. Life is too dark without someone to share it with.

Tell me a story. Show me something real.

I want to understand that look in your eyes. Everything has a history behind it, a reason for being. Even mistakes happen for a reason.

Time is not an issue or a question, it is an accessory. We will simply wear it to highlight our decisions & the life that we have chosen, instead of letting it wear us down. So take your time & some of mine.

I want to laugh with you. I need something I can connect with, bond with.

I want to be able to close my eyes and feel my way around you like braille.

I want to feel for you.

NOTE:
The first half was originally written on April 24th, 2012 as part two of something else that I had written that day, but I didn’t think it was strong enough to post.

After reworking it, it feels more succinct & honest. Sometimes patience is the key. Everything happens for a reason.

Enjoy!

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Technical Difficulties of A Different Kind

Don’t you hate it when shit doesn’t work?

Well imagine what it feels like when you wake up to your alarm screeching like a high speed car trying to stop on a dime. Until the high pitch whining dies down, you’re left lying there helpless, like Clark Kent after a Lana Lang Kryptonite fueled ultimatum.

Then the radio tries to play the station its set on to no avail. All you hear is garbled audio where every 5th word sounds like backward speak from a Rob Zombie record. Suddenly that McDonald’s ad about waking up to their Cranberry Orange Muffins & coffee seems utterly horrifying.

All that happens and you didn’t even set the friggin’ alarm and the time is WRONG! Yeah there was a power outage while you slept, so all electronics were reset.

So you check your phone for the correct time to find that it is way later than you thought it was. Oh & you missed two calls & messages, but who has time to check anything!

Jump out of bed & configure everything. Jump in the shower, get shampoo in your eye because everything should smell like Mango including your vision.

Jump out of the shower & try to have a quick shave, only to have the razor die mid stroke. Great! Now you look like a hairy Two-Face, only with all the skin still present. Take out the batteries & charge them.

Now head over to the living room & pop a DVD into the DVD player because silence is so bothersome, you just need to hear some chatter & movies load quicker than computers & podcasts do.

Um why does “Batman Begins” sound like it’s being remixed by DJ Funk Master Flex!?
Screen tearing, dropped frames, choppy/delayed speech; Can you say “What the F*@$!?”

So you press STOP, run back to the bedroom & get dressed. Go back to the bathroom & try shaving again.

Knock, knock! Who is it?
Open the door to realize that your cute lunch date is here early.

What the F*@$ was her name again!?
Damn she looks good, what a beautiful distraction.

Let her in, crack a joke & apologize for not being quite ready yet. Explain the situation to see the look of amusement on her cute face, while you get her a drink & give her a quick tour of your place.

Sit her down & ask her about her day, only to have her say, “I wanted to have some fun before we went out for lunch.”
Her hands quickly, yet gracefully make their way from your chest to your jeans as she leans in & kisses you on the lips. Now your head is swimming as you try to take this all in & calm down.

“Hey, she want that lovey dovey
That kiss, kiss
In her mind she fantasize ’bout gettin’ with me”

Off go the pants & the shirts. It’s all good & fun. As good as everything feels, you realize that you can’t get it up. Not even with the aide of a crane could you get your hard-on, hard. This is odd. Normally just feeling the wind grazing your crotch would be enough to set you off, so what is going on?

Another glitch in the system!

You say something sexy while you look & drown in her pretty blue eyes taken straight from the deep vast ocean, “I know I haven’t had lunch yet, but I was thinking I’d skip straight to dessert. You don’t mind right?”

You lift her off of your lap & unto the couch. You kiss her neck & her chest, then you reach her legs & slide your hands up to her cute behind & squeeze. Pull back on her panties, pull down & slowly pull them down her thighs while looking her in the eyes.

You spread those legs like you’re about to do a thorough search. Kiss her on her lips, gently put your hand on her chest & push back until she’s leaning & arching that back.

Now you can focus on dessert.

Kiss. Lick. Suck. Smile.
You taste like Mango, I wonder why.

Breathe. Lick. Suck. Kiss.

Moan. Suck. Kiss. Lick.

Suck. Suck. Suck.

Ring! RiNg!! RING!!!

It’s time to wake up! Only it’s not. The alarm is set to the wrong friggin’ time for real.

FML

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Charlaine Meet Stephen

I came to an odd realization that I probably already discovered in my teens but somehow forgot.

I have little to no problem talking to women that I’m NOT romantically interested in.

So here are the basic equations:

Female Stranger = Minimal risk
Female Friend = No problem / No risk
Attractive Female Stranger = Medium risk / Just need an opening and I’ll be fine
Attractive Female Friend = Small problem / Minimal risk (yeah she’s pretty, but she’s also the person I make fun of & confide in)

Female I’m Romantically Attracted To = Maximum Carnage!! (I become my tongue-tied 14 year old self all over again. Abort ALL missions! Avoid talking to at all cost)

“Conversations lead to interrogations.”

Flawed logic, I know, but it makes sense in some messed up way. The more I talk, the more what I truly feel rises to the surface. The rush of attraction, building expectations, unrealistic dreams & the need to confess all come cascading in to make a glorious mess. As a “shy” person who used to be introverted, I find that sometimes I just can’t win. I can speak easy, but then I choke once in a while.

Sometimes I can make a “Hail Mary” pass & save myself…. from myself. It’s like wearing a mask while talking to someone you’re close to (or would like to be close to). Everything I say is veiled in double meanings, white lies or distractions.

Then there are those rare moments when I don’t need the mask at all because I can just tell that the woman I’m with gets it. She knows. She knows how I feel & she isn’t running for the hills or acting like her phone isn’t in service until she needs something. It’s in those moments where speaking my mind seems freeing instead of frightening.

I find it oddly funny how easy it is to express things to someone that encourages it wholly. None of that “You can tell me everything. Except for this… That & the other.”

If we knew what the ground rules were for each person, wouldn’t things be so easy?

Random Story:
Anyway I was at Indigo Books earlier today, sitting down next to a stack of Stephen King novels reading. I was deeply absorbed in “The Art of War” & trying to apply it to dating, because war is the only thing I as a man can understand (sarcasm).

So I’m reading when I see from the corner of my eyes, this cute petite mixed Asian girl with long brown hair sit in front of a bunch of books that are stacked right next to me. The books jutted out of place and fell. She got embarrassed & I said with a smile on my face (at least I think I was smiling):

“Don’t worry, that’s been happening all day. I think Charlaine Harris looks good on top of Stephen King anyway.”

She laughed.

We picked up the rest of the books that fell to the ground together. She thanked me & I told her about how I saw “New York” (by Edward Rutherford) fall to my left like a bad game of Jenga as some kid lost his balance. We chatted for a bit in our seats when she told me about the book she was getting for her boyfriend. As if on queue he magically appears and asks what happened. She tells him & then hands him “A Song of Fire & Ice” from the Game of Thrones series.

Then he sits down where she previously sat & a book slides out. Right before it drops I stop it with one finger & push it back into place. Then I say:

“Who knew books could be so dangerous. Things are falling all over the place .”

They both laugh and she calls him a “klutz”.

So what if she had a boyfriend, I spoke with her and it was fun & easy. That experience put me in a good mood. Although I was already in a good mood due to something fun and completely random that I had done earlier.

Life is full of random experiences, you’ve just got to take your shot when it comes your way.

Charlaine Meet Stephen

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Life Expectancy

Words & memories are the home of the heart. Words & what we choose to remember of them carry us through the days & nights. Whenever we want to free fall out into nothing, its because we’re so happy that we could fly, or because our life as we know it is ending. Each day we are born & we die anew by the words that we carry with us. We always seem to remember trivial things and yet we have such a hard time grasping the important things.

I’m the worst.

I forget about the world & my life until the moment the tip of my pen touches paper. I live through quotes & dreams, and for all of the good it does me, I continue to write myself into oblivion. Oblivion obviously isn’t all that I thought it was because I am still here writing as though my life were about to end, even though its barely begun.

When does life begin & when does it end?

The day I was born prematurely, is when the world would say that my life began.
When I was a rambunctious six year old that would hang upside down on monkey bars while trying to dribble basketballs, I felt so alive & felt as though anything was possible. Was that the day my life began?

Or was it when I was in grade 4, walking home on a rainy day with the prettiest girl I had ever known under my purple & blue umbrella while she hugged & kissed me?

Or will my life begin as I write my name in the sky right before I put an envelope containing my poetry in the mail box?

And when will my life end?
Did it end when my parents got divorced while I was four & a half?

Did it end when my Mother who was a nurse ended up bed-ridden in a hospital?

Does it end when I’m 70, with the love of my life & our daughter Layla by my side?

Or does it end when I go to sleep tonight?

Each day is like a page out of a story. For the longest time I didn’t enjoy my own story. But like any writer worth their word, I’ve found something worth telling. I wanted to back down, but I no longer know how to do that, so instead I’m going to do what I do best. I am going to write, not only about my life, but the lives of people who have come & gone, and somehow still left their impression on my life.
Yes, that’s what most people do on their blogs, and that’s probably what you thought I was doing all along. I was writing about bits & pieces of my life.

No, I’m not dying, if anything, I’m dying to live.
I’m alive and I will make sure that you never forget who I am, because I will never forget who I am, and I will never forget who you are.

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