Day: June 7, 2023

I can’t take much more of this. Your ghetto fucking fantasy life. Like you can’t go two weeks without some catastrophe happening that would’ve been super easy to avoid if you cared at all about yourself or making progress in your life. I know you’re not supposed to tell people they need to change, but you fucking do. I’m so sick of watching you piss your entire life away. Sure you say all the right things, everything I want to hear….there’s just never any substance, no action reflective of any commitment to self-improvement. It doesnt matter how many podcasts or books you go thru, you keep making the same shockingly stupid decisions you’ve been making for like a third of your life now, and then bitching about all the consequences. Like you know you’d still get attention, at least from me, even if you don’t act like a helpless fucking child right? You care about your sobriety right? Why did you renew your lease down the block from your dealer and continue to associate with addicts on a daily basis. Sorry babe, you’re not that strong. You’ve proven that time and time again. I have been as patient as I possibly could be, but you just don’t get it. This most recent situation, still ongoing…you know I thought you might be dead? And I’m going to work everyday, my incredibly stressful job, just trying to hold it together when my girlfriend is basically a missing person and I can’t even call the cops. And it took you a fucking week to let me know you’re alive???? Even at that, still being mad shady, acting like everything is fine and normal. Nothing about your life or behavior is normal. I mean the truth is I’m pretty sure I know exactly what’s happening, the same thing that always happens with you. Things are good with us so you run away, back to what you know and makes you comfortable, cuz God forbid you actually tried to stick it out in a healthy relationship for once. I’m so sick of your lies and your excuses. I really need you to grow up and mature, like even baby steps are fine, but some progress, and sooner rather than later. I lied to you recently too, saying you were good for my mental health. Nah, I’ve been fucking losing my shit for months because of you and your inconsideration and helplessness. I can’t take much more. This is your last chance out of this life, please seriously take it.

i still worry about you even though you cheated.. i know you have no support group like i do. I know i’m prettier than you and smarter and loyal and hell guys are begging to be my rebound but my heart is still begging you to stay. you were the hardest thing i’ll ever walk away from and the sweetest thing that has ever killed me

When you see me.. what do you feel? Do you think about the times we had together? Or do you hate me and wish you didn’t have to see me?
I feel both
It’s nice to see your face again, I miss it, I miss the good times we had. But when I think of the reality of our relationship, it wasn’t good at all, it was toxic, filled with trauma, emotional abuse & two hurt people craving something we wouldn’t have been able to give each other in the end anyway.
We were/are wounded souls, that made us feel like soul mates but outside of our bubble, we were doomed.
But I wish you well & hope you’re healing. I’m trying.

I have to believe these tremors are not real.
I have to believe that deep in your oasis, there are blue wavy things
And serene, lounge chairs for basking in the sun with wet feet.
I have to believe that my perception is unrealistic
And that you have not shed a tear at my departure
And that you know yourself better and bigger than even I.
I have to believe you decided we were not tangible,
That the potential was snuffed out, that you couldn’t love me and
That you knew deep in the pulse of your heart that
You knew what was best.
I have to let the maze of my mind demolish the exit towards you
And recognize that you letting go is what’s best
Because you have always known what’s best.
I have to hope that in the thick of these problematic realizations that
You are happy, carefree, and dancing on the shoreline
Amazed by the tiny sailboats disappearing from the horizon.
I might have accepted this but oh how I miss you.
These feelings weren’t fleeting but there is no point in rearview mirrors
Especially when the other party feels it is moot point
So don’t look back.

Dear Pine cone,

How do people easily let go?

How am I a discarded bag floating in the wind

To every boy I have ever loved?

Do you feel the rawness in the truths

That are difficult to swallow like I do?

Going insane trying to find anyone who cares

While self absorption is rampant.

Sometimes I walk where the curb ends

And I think I am happier gripping on

To my aloneness.

I fell so far from the stars. I tried to claw my way back

Not realizing I am composed of star dust.

What’s the point of letting go,

When nothingness is all there ever was

Between you and all the boys you ever loved?

Your friend,

Pine needle.

Dear Pine cone,

Do you miss being counted in?

We spend our lives fizzling away

Dissolving somewhere beneath a cloudy sky.

Everything happens to someone else.

Don’t you miss days where we bloomed and

Where there were no thorns to clip

And love felt centimeters close?

Don’t you miss those jaw-dropping days

Instead of this pathetic crawl from the shade to the light?

Dear lovely, mouth watering spectacle,

Don’t you hate being counted out?

Most days I don’t, although I admit

Those days are getting shorter.

Can you help me plaster up the sky again?

It fell down.

Two nobodies are better than nobody.

Your friend,

Pine needle

I’ve participated in a substantial list of competitive arenas in my youth and beyond. Win some ,lose some, assess, apply new learned techniques, take on challenges necessary for personal goal fulfillment.

In Aurora there’s less less than 50ft visibility. Canada be damned.

I thank my husband for the flowers as I light up the Divine Kush Breath I picked up from down the street.
They had a spin the wheel game going on this time and the gentleman at the little booth gave the wheel a little extra nudge to prize me out with two free joints instead of whatever the wheel initially landed on.

My husband was working the holiday and my kid happened to be violently ill with some gastro intestinal curse for her weekend, so we already had plans to celebrate next weekend at the museum by checking out their new bug exhibit. For now though, the flowers are nice for helping me power through sanitation duties in the wake of my kids recovery. I haven’t lit up a strain that makes me this giggly in some time, and I’ve really been able to plot out the organization and completion of a few paintings I’ve been stuck on for some time with some fauna and foliage details I hadn’t considered before.