tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-186885822012-02-16T10:00:13.240-08:00A Diary About Sex, Food, and Rock N' RollAre You Shaved?noreply@blogger.comBlogger21100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18688582.post-66612836363962185672007-10-31T00:24:00.000-07:002008-02-05T05:27:41.857-08:00<span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I used to be the girl with the fire in her eyes. So quick to love and so quick to hate.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Believed in polyamorous relationships and smoking a joint with an acquaintance instead of dinner with friends, because love gets old and so do friends.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Believed in the good of man; that hard work would always be recognized.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Holding back from orgasms for the sake of my wounded heart that was not yet wounded.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Believed that I would never make it past 30. Wanted to never make it past 30. Wished secretly for heroin and abuse and to die in so painful a manner that it martyred my twisted beliefs.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Lived for the writings of Nostradamus.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Never pictured myself as the girl in the white dress at the wedding.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Thought poverty was noble and money was waste.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Clouded my thoughts in smoke and forced laughter.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Never wanted to let the fat girl out to play.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Secretly believed that wishing was all it took.</span><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Somewhere inside of me will always be that little girl whose dreams have no barriers.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I am spoiled. So spoiled.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Spoiled by the hands and heart of a man I thought existed only in my dreams.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Spoiled by the love of my friends I would never trade in.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Ponder the loss of my parents and pray to God he never strips me of their presence.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Have realized that it's sacrifice gets you where you want to be.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I still have that fire in my eyes. It's been overtaken with passion, not anger.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >Those who sacrifice know their own kind and are unwilling to let you get away.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I live for the crisp cool air on a bright Fall day, with the blue and the white peaking in through the tops of the trees.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I live for me and only me.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I live for the anticipation of the future, the dream of what comes next.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I trust that those I love love me as much as I love them, if not more.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I trust that I will vanish with a smile on my face on a day long past the age of 80.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I trust that I won't ever be the girl in the white dress, because white is not my color... but red is.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I trust that I'll get the dream house with the pool table and the built-in bar and the ginormous kitchen the fat girl inside has always dreamt of.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I trust my children will talk shit to me and give me headaches and nightmares galore, and one day they'll say "I'm sorry for everything" the way I told my mother.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >I trust that all my efforts will pay off and me and my girls will separate ourselves from all else once a year to just bask in our company and each others laughter.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);font-family:arial;" >It's taken a long time. But I think that I finally can live and love and trust the way it was meant to be.</span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18688582-6661283636396218567?l=areyoushaved.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Are You Shaved?noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-18688582.post-1131247674957235162005-11-05T19:27:00.000-08:002005-11-05T19:27:54.966-08:00For those of you who frequent coffee shops, such as myself, do you take all your valuables with you each and every time you pay the restroom a visit? Because I don't. My laziness overrides the fear of something being stolen. Until today, that is, when someone swiped my wallet while I hovered over the publicly used toilet at Java Monkey in Downtown Decatur.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/18688582-113124767495723516?l=areyoushaved.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>Are You Shaved?noreply@blogger.com0