His touch is undeniably soft and seductive
Kisses always requited with gentle strokes
Heartening a lovers tangle of bodies
I finally found what I’ve been pining for
Fingertips slowly travel around for attention
Hearts beating in soundless repetitions
Each thirsting more every second fleeting
Breaths parting mouths still wanting and wet
As I waken tears formed instantly in my eyes
For it was just a aspiration lost in a hopeful future.
Sunday, April 25
Why?
Why is it so hard to love me?
They say it’s not, but they always run
Leaving me again, alone
Love unconditionally discounted
Misrepresented in touch
But that is not love
Why is it so hard to love me?
All the truth in the world I’ve found
All the roads that I have been down
I thought they led me to you
They always run, scared
Leaving me again, alone
Deluged in sorrow, suffering
I will continue through tears
Never understanding why
Why is it so hard to love me?
They say it’s not, but they always run
Leaving me again, alone
Love unconditionally discounted
Misrepresented in touch
But that is not love
Why is it so hard to love me?
All the truth in the world I’ve found
All the roads that I have been down
I thought they led me to you
They always run, scared
Leaving me again, alone
Deluged in sorrow, suffering
I will continue through tears
Never understanding why
Why is it so hard to love me?
Twice Too Many
Twice my broken heart, one time too many
Lovers torn far apart, riotously my soul pities
Barriers we couldn’t climb, I stumbled and fell hard
My addiction I walk blind, love is just not in the cards
I’m all cried out now, my soul’s had all it can take
My love I will no longer vow, for my sanity is at stake
I’ve offer some, and all, I’ve overcome times before
No I won’t offer, I won’t fall, I will never take loves detour
Twice my broken heart, one time too many
Lovers torn far apart, riotously my soul pities.
Lovers torn far apart, riotously my soul pities
Barriers we couldn’t climb, I stumbled and fell hard
My addiction I walk blind, love is just not in the cards
I’m all cried out now, my soul’s had all it can take
My love I will no longer vow, for my sanity is at stake
I’ve offer some, and all, I’ve overcome times before
No I won’t offer, I won’t fall, I will never take loves detour
Twice my broken heart, one time too many
Lovers torn far apart, riotously my soul pities.
The Perfect Ending!
March 14, 2004 at 4:30 in the evening Grace sat at her computer. Her story is about a girl her own age aspiring to become a great author. She’s been struggling for weeks but now her thoughts and ideas were starting to spew forth like hot molten lava from a volcano erupting. She can’t type fast enough, her hands shaking noticeably upon the keyboard. She smiled broadly listening to her fingertips pounding the keys. Suddenly, off the computer screen come what seems like a flash of lightening, knocking her back off her seat. Her world goes black. After what seems like an eternity she stumbles to her feet. “What the hell happened?” she questions the empty room.
Still feeling woozy she decides to take a break, going to the kitchen for a glass of water. She giggles realizing how funny it is that her apartment looks the same as the one in her story. She glances from her glass to the clock. “10 o’clock. Wow it’s late! I must have gotten a lot of work done.” She sets down her glass, walks back to her computer to read and edit her work.
“What’s going on?” she yells jumping up for the desk. She sits back down unable to take her eyes off the screen. “Is this some kind of joke?” She asks out loud. There looking back at her from the computer screen is an exact image of herself.
“Hello Grace,” says the girl on the screen. Again Grace stumbles to her feet. “Are you surprised to see me Grace?” questions Reagan, the character named in her story. “I thought I’d give this wonderful life a try since you make it sound like so much fun.” Reagan parades an evil grin.
“What are you talking about?” Grace asks in shock her mouth hanging wide open.
“Well everything that happens to you, you write down on this thing. So I decided to eliminate the middleman, you! I need to enjoy the rest of my life by writing my own story.”
Still in shock Grace sits back down at her computer and starts to type. (Reagan trips and falls down the stairs while walking to the bathroom in her restless sleep.) One by one the letters disappeared for the screen. Reagan, a smirk on her face, uses one finger pushing the delete key. Her eyes never leaving Grace’s. She say’s, “maybe you don’t understand Grace, if I die, you die, so don’t make any mistakes.” Reagan flips off the computer and Grace’s screen goes black.
“This is some kind of joke,” she says again. Some silly little pathetic prank to scare her. She just sits there stunned, tears flowing unnoticeably, not knowing what to do. She tries to mess around with the computer but nothing seems to work. Nothing! Just a totally black computer screen staring back at her. Grace lays down on the couch crying until she realized there were no more tears just noise.
There was no one for her to call. Her parents died four months ago in a car accident. The only other person she had was Spencer. Spencer would know what to do, she thought to herself. Grace made a mad dash for the phone when the screen flickered back to life.
“Well, who are you calling?” asks Reagan. “How about I leave the screen on so you can see who’s visiting me!” The doorbell rings coincidently. “Who could that be?” Reagan gasped looking excited. “It must be my boyfriend Spencer.” Reagan answers the door, and kisses him hello.
“Please help me Spencer,” Grace cries out looking through the screen. Reagan turns and walks back towards the computer. “He can’t hear you Grace, no one can help you. All you have is me.” Hearing Reagan’s mean words Grace breaks down sobbing, tosses an afghan over the computer and leaves the room.
In her bedroom Grace lays down and finds herself in a fitful sleep. She wakes up screaming and sobbing more than once. This time when she woke up she walked into the living room just to see if it was all real. There sat her computer, still covered by the afghan her mother gave her as a Christmas present a few years ago. The tears return to her eyes now burning them with fatigue. She’s realizes that what happened earlier was Reagan’s attempt to kill her. Over and over Grace’s nightmare of Reagan jumping out of the screen trying to choke her to death kept her awake most of the night. When finally she did get back to sleep she was awakened by the ringing doorbell. She looked around, worn-out and tired, not wanting to get out of bed, but thought that the person at the door could be the answer to her prayer. She rose form bed to find Spencer at the door. She broke into tears and collapsed into his arms.
“What’s wrong?” he asks concerned.
“I had the worst night Spencer, I need you,” Graces says as she continues to sob on his shoulder.
“What are you talking about Grace? I just left for 20 minutes. What could have happened since then?” Grace’s sobs got louder with each of his words. “What’s wrong?” Spencer was confused. She backs away her blubber stopping just as quickly as they began.
“You’ve been here all night? That can’t be. I saw you with her!” Graces whimpering voice angers him.
“What the hell are you talking about, I’ve been with you Grace, no one else! Tell me what’s wrong! What did I do?” His voice was loud.
“The character of my story, Reagan, has taken over my life and you were with her last night.”
“You are crazy Gracie. I’ve been here all night with you. Are you trying to tell me a fictional character just jumped out of the computer screen into your body?” He asks jokingly.
“NO, no I’m sorry Spencer you weren’t here you were there!,” Grace said pointing toward her computer. Spencer goes over to the computer and snatches off the afghan. There was Reagan smirking as she watches the blood drain from their faces.
“Hi guys! How are we this fine morning?”
“What the hell is this Grace? This is not funny.”
“Well Spencer my name is Grace, oh, I mean Reagan, but I could be Grace. I was Grace last night.” Reagan said mockingly with laughter in her voice.
“I told you!” Grace yells. “This is Reagan, the character in my story. Yesterday when I was working she sent something through the screen. When I woke up she was there, taking over my life.”
“Just turn off the computer,” Spencer said walking over and unplugging the power. The screen made a sound as if it were going off but Reagan still sat there staring back at them.
“See what you guys don’t understand is the only person who can end this is me. Last night I had a great time just sitting and talking with you Spencer but you are a bit boring. No man is going to sit up all night with a beautiful woman like me, and just talk. So I sent you out for coffee. Grace dear, you can have him.”
Grace sits down at the computer. “Listen Reagan, you are my creation. That means I made you. I will find a way to kill you. I am the writer!” Grace states sympathetically even though she’s not sure she would be able to carry out her threat.
“Okay, creator, great writer, try typing on that keyboard of yours and I’ll show you how original you really are. See this delete button,” Reagan says holding the keyboard up towards the screen. “The whole keyboard works on my side too and I can be the writer, and write your story my way!”
“Spencer what are we going to do, she’s crazy.” He looks at Grace dumbfounded and unbelieving.
“Well there is not much you can do about it Grace, the great writer. Just live your life knowing I’m here writing it.” Smirks Reagan.
“SHUT UP! Shut up!,” Grace yells at the screen. With rage in her eyes, Reagan reaches through the screen and grabs Grace by the neck. As Reagan tightens her grip she yells, “You will never be able to shut me up. Do you hear me? NEVER!” Grace tries to yell out at Spencer who just stands there as if frozen by fear. Coming out of his temporary coma Spencer moves toward them. Unable to breathe Grace looks over at him. Spencer lets out a high-pitched scream.
Grace wakes up and staggers to her feet. “What the hell was that?” she questions the empty apartment. Grabbing her neck in a panic, she realizes it was all just a dream; well a nightmare is more like it. She picks up her chair, turns off the computer. Lying down on the couch she smiles realizing her nightmare would be the perfect ending to her story. She falls asleep quickly, but awakens to Reagan’s voice, “Hello Grace.” Looking at the clock Grace sees it’s only 5:30 in the evening of March 14th, 2004!
Still feeling woozy she decides to take a break, going to the kitchen for a glass of water. She giggles realizing how funny it is that her apartment looks the same as the one in her story. She glances from her glass to the clock. “10 o’clock. Wow it’s late! I must have gotten a lot of work done.” She sets down her glass, walks back to her computer to read and edit her work.
“What’s going on?” she yells jumping up for the desk. She sits back down unable to take her eyes off the screen. “Is this some kind of joke?” She asks out loud. There looking back at her from the computer screen is an exact image of herself.
“Hello Grace,” says the girl on the screen. Again Grace stumbles to her feet. “Are you surprised to see me Grace?” questions Reagan, the character named in her story. “I thought I’d give this wonderful life a try since you make it sound like so much fun.” Reagan parades an evil grin.
“What are you talking about?” Grace asks in shock her mouth hanging wide open.
“Well everything that happens to you, you write down on this thing. So I decided to eliminate the middleman, you! I need to enjoy the rest of my life by writing my own story.”
Still in shock Grace sits back down at her computer and starts to type. (Reagan trips and falls down the stairs while walking to the bathroom in her restless sleep.) One by one the letters disappeared for the screen. Reagan, a smirk on her face, uses one finger pushing the delete key. Her eyes never leaving Grace’s. She say’s, “maybe you don’t understand Grace, if I die, you die, so don’t make any mistakes.” Reagan flips off the computer and Grace’s screen goes black.
“This is some kind of joke,” she says again. Some silly little pathetic prank to scare her. She just sits there stunned, tears flowing unnoticeably, not knowing what to do. She tries to mess around with the computer but nothing seems to work. Nothing! Just a totally black computer screen staring back at her. Grace lays down on the couch crying until she realized there were no more tears just noise.
There was no one for her to call. Her parents died four months ago in a car accident. The only other person she had was Spencer. Spencer would know what to do, she thought to herself. Grace made a mad dash for the phone when the screen flickered back to life.
“Well, who are you calling?” asks Reagan. “How about I leave the screen on so you can see who’s visiting me!” The doorbell rings coincidently. “Who could that be?” Reagan gasped looking excited. “It must be my boyfriend Spencer.” Reagan answers the door, and kisses him hello.
“Please help me Spencer,” Grace cries out looking through the screen. Reagan turns and walks back towards the computer. “He can’t hear you Grace, no one can help you. All you have is me.” Hearing Reagan’s mean words Grace breaks down sobbing, tosses an afghan over the computer and leaves the room.
In her bedroom Grace lays down and finds herself in a fitful sleep. She wakes up screaming and sobbing more than once. This time when she woke up she walked into the living room just to see if it was all real. There sat her computer, still covered by the afghan her mother gave her as a Christmas present a few years ago. The tears return to her eyes now burning them with fatigue. She’s realizes that what happened earlier was Reagan’s attempt to kill her. Over and over Grace’s nightmare of Reagan jumping out of the screen trying to choke her to death kept her awake most of the night. When finally she did get back to sleep she was awakened by the ringing doorbell. She looked around, worn-out and tired, not wanting to get out of bed, but thought that the person at the door could be the answer to her prayer. She rose form bed to find Spencer at the door. She broke into tears and collapsed into his arms.
“What’s wrong?” he asks concerned.
“I had the worst night Spencer, I need you,” Graces says as she continues to sob on his shoulder.
“What are you talking about Grace? I just left for 20 minutes. What could have happened since then?” Grace’s sobs got louder with each of his words. “What’s wrong?” Spencer was confused. She backs away her blubber stopping just as quickly as they began.
“You’ve been here all night? That can’t be. I saw you with her!” Graces whimpering voice angers him.
“What the hell are you talking about, I’ve been with you Grace, no one else! Tell me what’s wrong! What did I do?” His voice was loud.
“The character of my story, Reagan, has taken over my life and you were with her last night.”
“You are crazy Gracie. I’ve been here all night with you. Are you trying to tell me a fictional character just jumped out of the computer screen into your body?” He asks jokingly.
“NO, no I’m sorry Spencer you weren’t here you were there!,” Grace said pointing toward her computer. Spencer goes over to the computer and snatches off the afghan. There was Reagan smirking as she watches the blood drain from their faces.
“Hi guys! How are we this fine morning?”
“What the hell is this Grace? This is not funny.”
“Well Spencer my name is Grace, oh, I mean Reagan, but I could be Grace. I was Grace last night.” Reagan said mockingly with laughter in her voice.
“I told you!” Grace yells. “This is Reagan, the character in my story. Yesterday when I was working she sent something through the screen. When I woke up she was there, taking over my life.”
“Just turn off the computer,” Spencer said walking over and unplugging the power. The screen made a sound as if it were going off but Reagan still sat there staring back at them.
“See what you guys don’t understand is the only person who can end this is me. Last night I had a great time just sitting and talking with you Spencer but you are a bit boring. No man is going to sit up all night with a beautiful woman like me, and just talk. So I sent you out for coffee. Grace dear, you can have him.”
Grace sits down at the computer. “Listen Reagan, you are my creation. That means I made you. I will find a way to kill you. I am the writer!” Grace states sympathetically even though she’s not sure she would be able to carry out her threat.
“Okay, creator, great writer, try typing on that keyboard of yours and I’ll show you how original you really are. See this delete button,” Reagan says holding the keyboard up towards the screen. “The whole keyboard works on my side too and I can be the writer, and write your story my way!”
“Spencer what are we going to do, she’s crazy.” He looks at Grace dumbfounded and unbelieving.
“Well there is not much you can do about it Grace, the great writer. Just live your life knowing I’m here writing it.” Smirks Reagan.
“SHUT UP! Shut up!,” Grace yells at the screen. With rage in her eyes, Reagan reaches through the screen and grabs Grace by the neck. As Reagan tightens her grip she yells, “You will never be able to shut me up. Do you hear me? NEVER!” Grace tries to yell out at Spencer who just stands there as if frozen by fear. Coming out of his temporary coma Spencer moves toward them. Unable to breathe Grace looks over at him. Spencer lets out a high-pitched scream.
Grace wakes up and staggers to her feet. “What the hell was that?” she questions the empty apartment. Grabbing her neck in a panic, she realizes it was all just a dream; well a nightmare is more like it. She picks up her chair, turns off the computer. Lying down on the couch she smiles realizing her nightmare would be the perfect ending to her story. She falls asleep quickly, but awakens to Reagan’s voice, “Hello Grace.” Looking at the clock Grace sees it’s only 5:30 in the evening of March 14th, 2004!
I'm Ready
I'm so ready to plant my garden. Most people I've talked to about it said that I should have already planted, well I haven't started. Mainly because I don't have all my materials but also because of the weather here in Michigan. One day it is 80 degrees and sunny, quite breathtaking then the next day.... Well 40 degrees and raining with a chance of frost. I've researched the frost times and Michigan most certainly shouldn't have frost this week, so if you have planted weather sensitive veggies, plants or herbs you are just shit out of luck. The frost will kill them. So either way I'm still good as long as I have everything planted by May 12th, I can harvest weeks ahead of time. Yay me! I'm so stoked to get started. And I tell you what with mom and Julie I wouldn't be ready. They have been buying me little stuff to get me started, so many thanks to them they are my rock.
We Have Fell Off the Wagon
Yep that's right we didn't mean to but like most dieters things just didn't work out. We last about 2 1/2 months before we blew it all to hell. However, -- you just knew there was a but coming didn't you? -- we are going back on our diet officially May 1st. I love being healthier, hell my body loved being healthier. I need to get my family back exercising again before we all weigh 400 pounds and end up on one of those fat people television shows. I think those show over dramatize things a bit, no one can eat more than 5 slices of pizza in one sitting. One guy on the biggest loser had six Big Mac's? No seriously who in the hell could eat more than one and who in the hell would actually want to? Even McDonald's healthier foods on the menu has more than a day's worth of calories. The only thing I enjoy at McDonald's since I've grown from an over active teenagers is the french fries and they have so many calories, if I eat them, it would be the only thing I can eat the entire day without going over whatever calorie limit I set for myself. So I've gone without them, and I'm happy to report I haven't died because of it, in fact I've probably added some years onto my life. McDonald's and almost all fast food is bad, horrible, calorie killing demonic food that should have never been invented. Unfortunately it's cheap and that why most people in America is fat.
Life Right Now
So we had to redo mom's kitchen floor, and although I knew laying tiles was no easy task I looked forward to it. But right now, in this moment my body is hurting so bad all I want to do is cry. Mom and Dad really appreciated us doing it, since my brother who originally took the job didn't finish or do very well for that matter. He used so much liquid nail that it took us over 5 hours just to get the old tile up. Not that it matters anymore, I just don't understand why he couldn't do it in the first place. My siblings, wow how we can count on them. NOT. I'm just rambling on right now trying to get my mind away from the pain located in areas of my body I didn't even know existed. But with that being said, job well done. And thank goodness it is done. Now it's time to recuperate and move on to the next big project, whatever that may be.
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