Writes..."My Mantra"

"life is short; live it like there's no tomorrow because there is no tomorrow. there is no today and there was no yesterday; time isn't defined by tenses. your life merely consists of moments; opportunities where you consciously decide you're going to live by doing, or die by not. live your life."

Presents..."Sonnet 40-43" by William Shakespeare

i like sonnets, especially shakespeare's sonnets. i've posted "sonnet 43" before but i really felt i should post "40-43". collectively, they're who i am.

"take all my loves, my love; yea, take them all.
what hast thou then more than thou hadst before?
no love, my love, that thou mayst true love call.
all mine was thine before thou hadst this more.
then if for my love thou my love receivest,
i cannot blame thee, for my love thou usest.
but yet be blamed, if thou thyself deceivest
by wilful taste of what thyself refusest.
i do forgive thy robb'ry, gentle thief,
although thou steal thee all my poverty;
and yet love knows it is a greater grief
to bear love’s wrong than hate’s known injury.
lascivious grace, in whom all ill well shows,
kill me with spites; yet we must not be foes.

those pretty wrongs that liberty commits
when i am sometime absent from thy heart,
thy beauty and thy years full well befits,
for still temptation follows where thou art.
gentle thou art, and therefore to be won;
beauteous thou art, therefore to be assailed;
and when a woman woos, what woman’s son
will sourly leave her till he have prevailed?
ay me, but yet thou might’st my seat forbear,
and chide thy beauty and thy straying youth,
who lead thee in their riot even there
where thou art forced to break a twofold truth:
hers by thy beauty tempting her to thee,
thine by thy beauty being false to me.

that thou hast her it is not all my grief,
and yet it may be said i loved her dearly;
that she hath thee is of my wailing chief,
a loss in love that touches me more nearly.
loving offenders, thus i will excuse ye:
thou dost love her because thou knowst i love her;
and for my sake even so doth she abuse me,
suff'ring my friend for my sake to approve her.
if i lose thee, my loss is my love’s gain,
and losing her, my friend hath found that loss;
both find each other, and i lose both twain,
and both for my sake lay on me this cross.
but here’s the joy; my friend and i are one;
sweet flatt'ry! then she loves but me alone.

when most i wink, then do mine eyes best see,
for all the day they view things unrespected;
but when i sleep, in dreams they look on thee,
and, darkly bright, are bright in dark directed.
then thou, whose shadow shadows doth make bright—
how would thy shadow’s form form happy show
to the clear day with thy much clearer light,
when to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so?
how would, i say, mine eyes be blessèd made
by looking on thee in the living day,
when in dead night thy fair imperfect shade
through heavy sleep on sightless eyes doth stay?
all days are nights to see till i see thee,
and nights bright days when dreams do show thee me."

Writes..."Sonnets 1-10"

sonnet 1

"i stopped dreaming about a perfect love...
imperfect men deem such exploits a waste...
and i stopped praying for strength from above...
to endure life without having a taste...
i try not to think 'bout times in the past...
when "she" and i and love had made a three...
foolishly wistful that it didn't last...
an ever after we'd live happily...
i don't long for past experiences...
with someone i've loved, though i'd loved them well...
my thinking's more towards other tenses...
presently avoiding a future hell...
alive, yet when does living truly start...
only when lovers share a loving heart..."

sonnet 2

"she dreamed of love at times she dreamed of me...
when she closed her eyes it was my face shown...
she'd deemed being my heart what life should be...
feelings of passion that she'd never known...
only dreamed of love when i dreamed of her...
she's the vision that i'd seen in my head...
i wish we had been better than we were...
when an "us" had involved others instead...
we dreamed of love when we dreamed about us...
a man wanting a woman wanting him...
my desire for her equaled her lust...
an intimacy that'd eluded them...
we've stopped dreaming now; i'm holding her hand...
living's for lovers loving all they can..."

sonnet 3

"how do you write of one you've never kissed...
not having done it, aren't they merely lines...
what does one pen when you've never pressed lips...
in terms of love, what actually defines...
a word as you commit one to an ode...
for someone worthy of more than a few...
how do you say that you've wanted to hold...
a girl you've wanted to be closer to...
you start by taking feelings from your heart...
and letting emotions flow on a page...
i think that constitutes a decent start...
because i use revealing prose to gauge...
her interest in something i've never said...
since i've never shared the things in my head..."

sonnet 4

"i told her i loved her and she took off...
leaving me and my words in wintry air...
a chilling breeze brings with it sickly cough...
that and heartache are a punishing pair...
it always seems like my words ring hollow...
having been spilled from my heart to her ears...
i wonder why her footsteps won't follow...
a path that leads to where my love appears...
i stand alone with a heart left broken...
with nothing to do to change how things are...
'cause she's scared of a promise i've spoken...
from me, she's let that fear take her afar...
but i love her so i'll be here waiting...
writing the thoughts my heart has been stating..."

sonnet 5

“stand before a mirror, what do i see?
an image of what: good fortune or health?
no, she’s gone; i’m missing a part of me…
yes, she’s gone; i’m but a shell of myself…
yesterday’s a past when she’d been my heart…
a time i loved her despite not knowing…
there’s pain in loving her when we’re apart…
and heartache when emotion’s not showing…
tomorrow’s a future that now seems lost…
as i wonder just why she’s gone away…
why she’s still searching when our paths have crossed?
to keep running when i wished that she’d stay…
stand before a mirror, i’m here alone…
reflecting on reflections of my own…”

sonnet 6

“girls got me thinking: “become more shifty”…
fucking with oysters without any pearls…
as for life mantras, i’ll invert 50’s…
it’s paid before laid when dealing with girls…
i’ve penned pretty words to get them to see…
yet i’ve found they prefer i show no class…
don’t nice guys strive to make nice girls happy?
‘cause assholes write shit like they’re after ass…
always been a chaser; a “bud light”, er…
look at that line i’m defaming myself…
bastards write asshole rhymes ‘cause they’re tighter…
i’m writing a sonnet; this line’s the twelfth…
oops, i meant to say i’m after ass too…
when i pen hot shit i’m looking to screw…”

sonnet 7

"drake wrote line 'bout the best he's ever had...
i can't do the same with the truth being...
i'll never know since we were never bad…
if eyes would deem me in her worth seeing…
i’d never advanced past holding her hand…
just once, i’d had her alone by my side…
even i find it hard to understand…
loving despite not having been inside…
i write lines ‘bout the girl i never got…
the girl of my dreams; one that got away…
how can someone be the best when i’ve not?
bedded that someone; or caused her to say?
i’m the best, having seen with her own eyes…
that nobody’s better between her thighs…”

sonnet 8

“on bended knee i promised her my life...
everything i am, everything i'd be...
genuflected; i want her as my wife…
she contemplated, looking down at me…
her tears became a stream that wet a face…
of one i professed love for long ago…
a different time, a different place…
when my heart’d made mistakes my life did show…
i told her then that i’d love her better…
than any before; she believed it ought…
i loved her before any penned letter…
she loved me before any spoken thought…
then promised herself to me in a word…
more tears, then a “yes”, was all that i heard…”

sonnet 9

“sometimes i wonder if love is a sin;
well, not love, as much me as loving her
i ask myself where does evil begin,
if it comes from denying what we were,
or what we should be; this life or the next
is that what deems our hearts guilty of bad?
to convey how we feel only through text…
yet save thoughts one day we’ll pray we still had
some list seven deadly; i’ve found an eighth,
fear’s why we won’t stand, afraid that we’ll fall
we live in our minds to keep our hearts safe;
but isn’t that the greatest sin of all?
hell’s living with words we never enact,
not taking a chance so hearts stay intact”

sonnet 10

“i grasp her hand as we enter the room…
a journey we’ve never taken before…
she’s a vision my eyes seek to consume…
they devour her as i close the door…
night is dark; she offers herself to me…
sliding down the straps of her satin bra…
they drape off her shoulders, a sight to see…
revealing perfect breasts that deserve awe…
with erect nipples excited from lust…
desire’s apparent; a stream of wet…
begins to flow from a place that i just…
whispered to her my touch wouldn’t forget…
fingers roam, her body pressed against mine…
when a mortal meets an angel divine…”

Writes..."What It Is"

“when she thinks of me, she doesn’t think about the past or what we’ve been. she doesn’t think about the future or what we could be. when she thinks of me, she doesn’t think of my heart, or my brain; for her thoughts don’t require my love, respect or my friendship. when she thinks of me, her only thought is an image of me when i’m inside of her…and the feelings she feels when she’s on top of me. nothing else…

she thinks of me a lot.”

Writes..."Evolution"

“people want to know what i’m thinking because they know i've always been a thinker, but the truth is i’m a thinker that doesn’t think anymore. i’ve noticed that most of my thoughts nowadays don’t start with “i think...” as much as “i feel...” and knowing me, they're surprised; an old me never would've said that. i think, no, i feel that's a sign of maturity, at least emotionally."

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XIX"

"she doesn't know i keep her words in my pocket...
they're precious treasure; her thoughts: a silver locket...
that holds a picture of "she and i" in written form...
unlocked it, she lets passion have her prose perform...
reading her is knowing her heart; a love docket...
for one who's longs for her, and all her mind can form..."

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Writes..."Bye Bye Love"

"on november 27, 2011, at 11:47 pm, i was alone...laying down thinking because i couldn't sleep, when i had an epiphany: the sad realization that i am destined to continue spending my life by myself. at first i found this acknowledgment of self-awareness to be difficult to accept, but the truth is, when i'm being completely honest with myself, there's a reality i can't deny: if loving someone means giving all of yourself to them, then i don't think i'll ever love anyone. i mean, i know i never have; and i don't really see that changing anytime soon. i'm scared...too scared to give 100 percent of myself to anyone. too afraid to trust; to be vulnerable; to even be loved. and how can a person truly accept another's heart when they won't let go of their own? i don't know..."

Presents..."A Tribute To Cole"

"posting some of my girl nicole chavers's thoughts...i know, it's about time right? i read her stuff and i feel compelled to write. and being a writer, i think that's the greatest compliment i've ever offered anyone.

a few of her words..."

"when u experience that and the warmth, security and sheer peace that comes from that - when its gone, you notice u can never recapture it...just gotta paint another version. love is couture:) one of a kind"

"i'm awake. i realize, i needed to dream another dream if i was to be happy."

"here's what I know: those we love but don't love us back the way we expect or "need" them to- its the universes way of preparing us for something better, so that when we have it, it'll be even sweeter...."

"just be open to love."

"i remember waking up on my 30th bday in a reflective and anticipatory mind set. i realized, i was in a constant state of anxiety over possible and post change that was inevitable-particularly the last 10 yrs. i had to reflect back because i wasn't able to actually be present in those moments. life isn't perfect. i reckon not many people feel like they have achieved all their goals or gotten to where they need to be. there is however a point in which one should or can become content w life. i once had very specific dreams of what family, success, and love should look like. i think i forgot to anticipate the finer details and detours. because my reality is much different, i feel...unfulfilled and ungrateful. the reality is, i did have all the things i dreamed of, they just did not happen at the time i wanted them to happen. family changes. family separates. ideals of success changes. ideals die. parents change. parents die. love changes. but love, i still don't think love dies."

Writes..."A Love Song"

"years ago i used to dream of finding love...
and i used to dream of being loved...
of knowing how it felt...
and years ago, i used to pray for someone new...
but at that time i never knew...
that it was you as i knelt..."

My Favorite Quotes...V

"made somethin' outta nothin'
well i'm frontin', i was never nothin'
older ladies used to tell my mother ain't he somethin'" - joell ortiz

“we are all a little weird and
life’s a little weird,
and when we find someone whose
weirdness is compatible to ours
we join up with them and fall in
mutual weirdness and call it love.” - dr. seuss

Writes..."Passion"

"this feeling i have for you consumes me...
with a fire i've never felt before...
you're a passion that keeps my heart burning...
i'm a woman you leave yearning for more..."

Writes..."Conversations"

she: "tell me you think i'm beautiful.
me: "you're beautiful...on the inside."
she: "you fucking asshole!!!"
me: "that an invitation?"

her: "you're conceited brian."
me: "fuck you. i got a potty mouth too."

she: "you're conceited brian; arrogant, brash; i want you as much as i want butt rash; as much as i want a head-on car crash; your tude's garbage and i don't fuck with trash."
me: "fuck you too bitch, i can hate without rhyming."

her: "you're conceited brian. you need to be more humble."
me: "why? jesus used "i" a lot too."

Writes..."A Phone Call"

“every day i wake up to the same thing…
the familiar sound of the telephone ring…
the familiar voice of the woman i love…
born with celestial wings, sent from above…
‘cause that’s what angels do, they say pretty things…
with sentiment that people only dream of…
feeling or knowing having experienced…
a happiness that comes from being loved…
and with the day commenced, her love’s dispensed…
to me through “good mornings”; in present tense…
sunshine to my life; bright, shining beams of…
light from words that can only be deemed love…

every day i wake to myself admitting...
to return that love in speech most fitting...
they're tribute; meaning they're purpose serving...
it's praise befitting of a goddess deserving...
giving all of myself and in exchange getting...
every part of her; freely, without conserving…
“i love you’s” that embed themselves in my heart…
she loves me despite my being undeserving…
her words: spoken art; they continue to impart…
a joy to hold on to long after we part…
our reality is finding myself observing…
that loving her is passion worth preserving…

and when the day is done, and i’m all alone…
again the familiar ring of the telephone…
calling merely to say her thoughts are of me…
in a harmonious tone; a sweet melody…
when i can’t see her, i see her love still shown…
when i can’t touch her, it touches the heart of me…
despite the times separation pains us...
when it feels she and i aren’t the “we” we should be...
but letting distance change us, would be dangerous...
understanding it’s our love that sustains us...
we flourish believing one day we’ll be...
an lasting image of intimacy...

and when the day is done, she’s at the other end...
of the line; a connection that truly transcends...
we claim a bond deeper than the ones of our peers...
or the ones of our friends; one that is revered...
where she speaks to me as a man she can depend...
and she speaks to me as a man she’s found sincere...
alternating between talking and crying…
choked up, she continues while fighting back tears…
and i’d be lying, if i weren’t trying…
to hear her words yet keep my eyes from perspiring…
i’m failing; though without her i’ve failed for years…
having missed love spread from her lips to my ears…”

Re-Writes..."Another Opportunity"

"i originally posted this july 1, 2010 in french as "une autre occasion" but i thought i post it again in english."

"have you ever felt like you had unfinished business with somebody? i mean, like you two were on the verge of something great but things didn't progress the way you wanted them to for some reason? have you ever been filled with regret over such things? i don't know, maybe i'm making too much of our situation. i once wrote that i thought unrequited love was the worst kind of love there was and at the time i believed that to be true. loving somebody who doesn't return your feelings is a horrible position to be in. and i don't wish experiencing that on everybody. but then i discovered forbidden love and in terms of pure despair, it blows unrequited love out of the water. loving someone who loves you the same way but can't be with you is a heartbreak you feel on a daily basis. we had always cared for one another but for months everything between us, every text message, every phone call, every e-mail, took us from having love for each other to being in love. not that us falling in love was all that surprising, we had history and you can't discount the history between two people. ever.

i mean i'd known her forever and i'd liked her when we were younger but i'd never said anything. i'd only see her once a week but when she was around i'd watch her secretly, hoping that she'd look my way and there would be a moment where our eyes met. but every time she'd look my way, i'd turn away, terrified that my eyes would relay how badly i wanted her to be mine. hoping that she'd smile at me as if she were happy i was there. she had a beautiful smile. of all the appealing qualities she had, and there were plenty, when i look back at our times together her smile is always the thing i think about the most. it was luminous, it was sunshine on a rainy day. i called it my "cloud lifter". but i never told her how much i looked forward to seeing it or her every week. i never figured she knew i existed after we greeted each other with "good morning's" or acknowledged each other in passing. so it was hard to hear when during the months we were falling in love, she told me that she had liked me but she never said anything. that she had been doing the same things i was doing. the glances and the hoping not to get noticed looking. the secret desire to be together. but she was scared i didn't want her. so we never knew how the other person felt about us and we moved on to other people. and then she was gone. and then she was married. and any opportunity for us at that time had passed because we were both too afraid of letting the other know that what we had could have lead to happiness between the two of us.

everything between us over those months, every text, phone call and e-mail, led to me wanting her in my life again, to finally get the opportunity to hold her in my arms like i should have done many years before. despite the fact that she was still married. she was unhappy and i was unhappy but we both knew we could be happy together. so when there came a time i was going to be back home and she could make it to where i was, i wasn't going to pass up the chance to see her. when she pulled up i was outside waiting for her. we had made plans, so it wasn't like it was unexpected she was there but there's a difference between saying you're going to do something and actually doing it. shakespeare said, "talking isn't doing. it is a kind of good deed to say well; and yet words are not deeds" and she was actually in my face. she parked her car and started walking towards me, smiling that smile i dream about. i hadn't seen her in eight years but she was still a beautiful woman, a vision of loveliness, a goddess and i was but a humble mortal, unworthy to have been in her presence, unworthy of the love she professed for me. emerson said, "never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful, for beauty is god's handwriting." well god had never written a with more perfect stroke. as she approached all i could think about was kissing her right there on the sidewalk, oblivious to anyone and anything around us. just me and her, statuesque, a single moment in time where we could be one. our bodies frozen in embrace and our lips locked together. and if that had been all was for us, i would have been happy knowing that we had finally gotten to express our feelings we had for one another physically. the time for words has passed for us, we had talked enough. this was our time. this was our moment.

i never did get to love her the way i wanted to that day. when i started this thought, i asked about regret and while i could write about missing out on the opportunity to make love to her, i won't. i'll just say the situation wasn't ideal and things beyond us happened that couldn't have been avoided. but i was glad everything that occurred between us occurred and not too terribly disappointed about the things that didn't. i got to spend time with her and that was really the most important thing i had hoped to accomplish during her visit. i've never been a man who has wanted much for himself. and that day i actually got what i wanted: a little time in her presence. plus, i got to hear her whisper "i love you" into my ear. and that's always good. so no, i don't regret that day, i don't regret loving her, and i won't regret writing this.

this is my tribute to voltaire so let me quote him. "paradise was made for tender hearts; hell, for loveless hearts." i found paradise that day because i experienced her love and i'll never know hell because of that love."

7-1-10

Writes..."Haiku Poems"

"haiku is a very short form of japanese poetry typically characterised by three qualities:

the essence of haiku is "cutting" (kiru). this is often represented by the juxtaposition of two images or ideas and a kireji ("cutting word") between them, a kind of verbal punctuation mark which signals the moment of separation and colours the manner in which the juxtaposed elements are related.

traditional haiku consist of 17 on (also known as morae), in three phrases of 5, 7 and 5 on respectively. any one of the three phrases may end with the kireji. Although haiku are often stated to have 17 syllables, this is incorrect as syllables and on are not the same.

a kigo (seasonal reference), usually drawn from a saijiki, an extensive but defined list of such words. the majority of kigo, but not all, are drawn from the natural world. this, combined with the origins of haiku in pre-industrial japan, has led to the inaccurate impression that haiku are necessarily nature poems."

"brian wilson is
a distributor of great thoughts
in poetic from..."

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XVIII"

"i'm a lover; i’m not a fighter…
i’m merely an ill rhyme writer…
eminem but only whiter…
think marshall with insides lighter…
with vagina rhymes because they’re tighter…
not like hers though, hers is wider…
plead guilty; i’ll just indict her…
or “in-dick” her all last night-a…
so i know when i say she’s wider…
i still came so it was alright-a…
pen writer; she’s a pen’s rider…
pussy flow to paper, i just might-a…

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Writes..."A Shot Of Brandi, A Shot Of Jen"

"i fuck with "oldheads"; and recently i've devoted a significant amount of time trying to persuade a particular one to show me the body that she keeps hidden from the world. though to be perfectly honest, other than really wanting to know what she looks like naked, i'm merely trying to find out if i can convince her to show it to me. i want to talk her out of her comfort zone and into doing something she normally wouldn't. and i've been doing a lot of talking...but she's still hesitant. she thinks she'll send me a picture and somehow that shot will find its way into another person's hands. and i haven't been able to reassure her that she and i are the only ones that will ever see anything she sends me. but i'm confident she'll get me the shot i want...and soon. i imagine it'll be a picture of a deep cleavage that leads to two large, pendulous breasts; with dark areolae that cover the entire tips of them and nipples as big as pencil erasers, meant to licked and sucked. or perhaps she'll an image of a graying strip of pubic hair, now apparent without the usage of pants or underwear, and how it contrasts with the waxed pair of pussy lips that she's spreading with her fingers. i don't know what she'll show me, but i know i'll talk her into submission; into letting go. i believe she'll offer up all of herself when she feels i want every part of her; more than what's under her clothes; and that's gonna take a few more words from me."

Writes..."33 Before 33"

"if you want to achieve things in life, you've just got to do them, and if you're talented and smart, you'll succeed." - juliana hatfield

"stealing an idea from my girl nicole, i'm also going to make a list; except my list will be of 33 things i want to accomplish before my 33th birthday: september 28, 2012. maybe if i have a tangible list to look at, i'll be more motivated to knock some of the things on it out."

"i am going to make a list of 33 things...some big, some small, some ridiculous even for my standards." - nicole chavers

"exactly...but i'm still writing them down...

1) be working on multi-millionaire status. (fail.)

2) retire. (epic fail.)

3) achieve worldwide recognition for this brilliance. (fail.)

4) develop a "more talking, less thinking" attitude. (maybe.)

5) be with the woman i'm gonna spend my life with. (maybe.)

6) have that woman carrying my offspring. (epic fail.)

7) find somewhere to be...it's not here. (maybe.)

8) become more of a grown-up. (epic fail.)

9) finish the story i'm writing. (epic fail.)

10) catch a nhl game. (failed.) the finals ended 6-13-12 and the regular season won't begin until after my birthday.

11) propose. marriage in under a year is unrealistic. (epic fail.)

12) develop that "inner circle": that group of friends that don't care your shit stinks. (maybe.)

13) stop mass blogging. be a little more consistent with frequency of my posting. (failed. sonnets killed that idea.)

14) do the susan g. komen breast cancer walk. (epic fail.)

15) take my mom on an alaskan cruise. fuck the caribbean! (epic fail.)

16) write the lyrics for a great love song. (epic fail.)

17) get published. (accomplished. (2x)) got a letter 11-14-11 saying one of my poems ("words in the am"; an exerpt of "a phone call") was being published in a book of poetry in january 2012.

got another letter about a week ago (today is 6-18-12) saying my poem ("words in the am"; an exerpt of "a phone call") was being published in another book of poetry, sometime around july 2012. maybe i should submit another poem.

18) 31 sonnets in 2 31-day months. (accomplished.) december 5, 2011 through january 26, 2012 wrote 32.

19) 155 sonnets... (accomplished.) 1 more than historians have the text for william shakespeare. this isn't really a "before my 33th" goal, but it is something i'm confident i can do. today is 2-14-12 and i have 51; sure, i could have another 104 at that pace i'm writing them and i'm not going to risk quality for quantity.

today is 4-4-12 and i'm halfway from shakespeare (77 done).

today is 5-19-12 and i have 110 done.

today is 6-18-12 and i have 127 done.

today is 8-2-12 and i'm finished (155 done) almost 2 months before my birthday. 155 sonnets in 8 months...

20) ...

was working on 20 when i realized i'm not really the "making goals" type. lol!

21)

22)

23)

24)

25)

26)

27)

28)

29)

30)

31)

32)

33)

"so as you can see i have some thinking to do. i will be adding on as inspiration appears. my goal is to have this list completed by ... so that gives me and my procastinating ass plenty of time to think about what i really want out of life. i need to set myself a foundation with direction and this is my starting point." - nicole chavers

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XVII"

"like a prophet, my pen's used a weapon of fate...
'cause the things i write influence both time and dates...
'cause the things i write inspire both love and hate...
revelations of divine will perpetrated...

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Writes..."One Last "Fuck You""

“i’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he realized the knife sticking out of his chest was there by my hand. i guess i would say they expressed a myriad of emotions, but mostly i sensed shock; and that shock surprised me. they seemed to say “how could you?” and “how could you?” wasn’t something i expected to see after plunging the blade into his heart; i figured if we ever got to the point where i was ending his life there would have been more of a feeling of acceptance from him; that he would look at me and i would look back at him; and in those last moments, the finality that is death would bring our relationship a closure that had eluded us; with me bleeding him out serving as a last “fuck you”.”

Presents..."After 18 Months..."

"september 20, 2011, i reached 18 months working on my blog. every word...every post...everything i put on here, has reflected my feelings and thoughts on who i am and what i profess to be. but today i was going to post something and i hesitated because i didn't know how it would look coming from me. and i realized that not posting it, despite its content, would be defeating the purpose of my blog. i write, not because i'm particularly skilled at it, but because people want to know what i'm thinking. well, i'm a person...and sometimes, er, most of the time, i think a little bit crazy. here's to twisted thoughts; they're just thoughts...and this is my blog."

Writes..."Her "Atlas""

"she walks into the room and out of her skirt; out of her panties and onto my length. without a word...without taking off her bra or blouse; without even removing the jacket she'd worn to work today. her actions aren't surprising though; in fact, this is pretty much our routine. everyday i wait for her to come home; naked; and she straddles me as soon as she's through the door. and while i'm inside her, she lays her head on my chest and begins to tell me about her day; releasing every stress, every fear, every worry, onto me as i hold her in my arms."

Quotes...Me...V

"my mother used to tell me that people only used cuss words because they didn't have the vocabulary to express themselves properly. but i've found that sometimes "fuck" is the appropriate word for what I'm trying to communicate."

"descartes said, 'i think; therefore i am'; but i say, 'i write; therefore i'm better.'"

"i'm always saying i'm looking for a woman to collaborate on my writing with; but the truth is i'm really looking for a woman to collaborate on my life with."

"i'm not trying to be accepted for who i am anymore; right now i'm more focused on being understood for what i am."

"i love her because our relationship isn't based on acceptance; it's based on understanding. she hasn't come to accept that i am an asshole as much as she understands why i am an asshole."

"i write as a man that loves women; and every once in a while has one of those women love him back."

"a man finds no embarrassment in telling a beautiful woman her finds her beautiful."

"they say that beauty is only skin-deep and ugly is to the bone; i've found that to be especially true. most of the "unfortunate" people i'm seen are so due to their poor facial bone structure...a lack of high cheekbones, weak jawline, etc."

"they said there's a thin line between genius and insanity but the truth is brilliant people reside in the "green" overlap of "yellow" and "blue" areas that make them up."

"someone asked me why i write poems about love. i told them it's because i haven't found a word that rhymes well with "pussy"."

Writes..."Sex As A Reality Show"

"what i write has been deemed "pornographic" or "erotica" but it's neither; i write about sexual realities. there's nothing fantastical about me penning "she came riding my dick"; it's merely a declaration of what happened when we shared that moment in time."

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XVI"

"my girl's crazy beautiful but she thinks i'm strange...
'cause i don't call her a "dime"; i don't fuck with change...
maybe she'd like "dollar" better; cash in bill form...
she's paper currency where pennies are the norm...
no cents chicks to nonsense chicks seem to be the range...
did i just say "no cents chicks"? play on words perform..."

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XV"

"if smart is the new “gangsta”, then call me “babyface” wilson…
‘cause i done turned on this genius like a bright keri hilson…"
except i don’t sound all nasally like a black britney spears…
and i don’t pen no collaborations for lil wayne to appear…
i just think, then i write; that shit that comes off as ill…son…”

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Quotes...Me...IV

"i ain't shit...but i'm confident the friends i have now will keep the flies from getting on me when i am the shit."

"being super smart is like being in jail. i haven't found anything to be as isolating as knowing stuff is."

"every man's story revolves around a woman. and because every experience with one, be it tragic or comedic, helps to determine how that story's written; the quality of one's life is truly based on the quality of the women who have roles in it."

"she said i think like a woman does when it comes to the idea of love, but i like to think i merely understand it like a lover does."

"my mom had mentioned something about a girl being on my "team". first, i told her never to use that phrase again. second, i don't have a "team"; i'm perpetually a free agent."

"happy mother's day to all the mothers out there, especially the ones who have to be both mom and dad. parent is a thankless job but i'll say it anyway. thank you!!! and dudes, step up. i can't have any more women hesitant to have my kids because of you."

"am i wrong for looking at osama bin laden's death like i look at a chick on the jerry springer show? i'm gonna need to see the body. i need some proof."

"i'm about to change my name to "iceland" or "greenland" or something; nobody's more of an island than i am, despite what john donne says."

"i write about love and romance, so i write about heartache and headaches."

"if the world's ending at 6 i'll be prepared. i have my gasoline draws on."

Writes..."A Ring"

"i'll place the ring's box on the table but i won't give it to her. i'll open it up, professing my love for her to be deeper and more profound than anyone's ever has been or will be. then i'll put the box back in my pocket and walk away; if her love for me rivals mine for her, she'll know where to get her ring back."

Writes..."Birthday Wishes"

"she asked me if i had any wishes for my birthday; she wanted to know if there was anything big i could get that would make it special. i told her i merely wished for her to come to where i was and watch the sunset with me. she asked if that was all, as if my request was insignificant, but to me, concluding the day knowing i am in the presence of love is as good a reason as any to feel blessed i lived to see my 32th."

Writes..."Rants About...Wrestling"

"normally i wouldn't do this but i had a lot of thoughts on pro wrestling and i'm going to post them. my grandmother died while we were watching a wcw pay-per-view in '99 so i'll dedicate them to her."

first, i'm tired of john cena. seriously. he came in at the end of the "attitude era" hard like a wannabe eminem and he was good at that. but his act now is stale. look, i love america as much as anybody and i support the troops as well, but right now he's "hacksaw" jim duggan waving his flag; he's sgt. slaughter with wristbands. btw, didn't he get drafted to smackdown this year? has he wrestled on smackdown since he got drafted?

second, watching tna impact is like stepping into a time machine and going back to my junior year in high school. "hulk hogan, eric bischoff, jeff jarrett, sting, scott steiner, ric flair..." "who are dudes who should've retired from professional wrestling in 1996 alex?" i don't know if i'm watching current television or playing "wcw nitro" on my computer 15 years ago.

third, kurt angle... probably the most pure wrestler in the game today. but dude can't turn his head side-to-side anymore; he's suffered so much trauma to his neck. he should retire now or soon he'll be riding his motorized wheelchair down to the ring.

fourth, wwe tag teams... what tag teams? the champs are evan bourne and kofi kingston...zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz. i'm bored already. i'd almost rather watch another diva match than what the wwe is calling tag teams these days. almost.

fifth, wwe divas... i'd rather watch any, even the worst, tna knockout than the best wwe diva. kelly kelly is the champ, 'nuff said.

sixth, the last time i saw kevin nash on tna impact he was all gray. suddenly, he has dark hair on wwe raw. why the "just for men"? you're 50+, everyone knows it. accept it.

seventh, i like randy orton but his mannerisms when he's hearing "voices" are getting ridiculous. only in wrestling can you waste as much time as he does after knocking someone down and not then get your ass kicked.

eighth, i knew bryan danielson was the truth from reading about his exploits in "ring of honor" in "pro wrestling illustrated" like 9 years ago; but i don't remember seeing his picture then. so when he came in the wwe as "daniel bryan" in the first season on nxt i didn't make the connection at first. glad to see he's become a player in the major leagues now.

ninth, it's about time the wwe's using mark henry as the unstoppable force he should've been when he first came into the company 15 years ago. he = cain marko or "juggernaut" for those who aren't into the "x-men" like i am.

tenth, i love the cm punk/jona cena two champs angle but i think they rushed through too fast. first, they brought cm punk back too fast. after john cena beat rey mysterio for the title, they should've drawn out cena being the champ for months (like until survivor series) and then had cm punk come back claiming to be the "real" champ. more dramatic i think. but they killed that angle to push the cm punk/triple h storyline, which i like, i just would've saved it for next year. btw, with the cm punk/triple h match now being a "no dq" match at "night of champions", does anyone else already know that kevin nash is now going to interfere in that match? i've seen enough wrestling to be able to predict that."

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XIV"

"i told her i loved her; she left me where i be
i told her i loved her; she ran away from "we"
i told her i loved her; she found a better me
i told one i loved her but i heard it from all three

so it occurred to me, i should shut the fuck up
keep "i love you's" buried and so far stuck up
my ass; they're brown-nosers; that means my words suck up
speak them to another would be for me to fuck up"

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XIII"

"they say i can't rap like i can't pen a word
like the shit i spit's not the illest they ever heard
but they see the glasses and wanna hate a nigga
for doing fractions and math 'cause i'm a nerd”

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Writes..."We Thinkers Nigga"

"if everyone is thinking alike, then somebody isn't thinking." - george s. patton

her: “u think more than u live and im guilty of the same thing. you'll think yourself out of happiness or anything new or exciting in your life (things that u deserve) becuz u play the whole thing out in your head but u dont take the chance of just playing it out in real life…for better or for worse it makes us both.....(chicken)”
me: “i want to be a smartass and say something sarcastic but the truth is everything you just said is spot on. that's what i do and i'm a (chicken) for it. (crying face)”
her: "lmao!!! awww don’t (crying face).......i know it becuz i am it. but im desperately tryna change...why do we think so much?? im trying to use my thoughts effectively....as in im deliberately thinking good thoughts so that they will manifest good things. i believe our brains hav enuf power for that
especially yours....."
me: "you're a good thing and i think about you."
her: "stop living inside of your mind and live forreal
u think abt me???"
me: "that a serious question?"
her: "yes"
me: "yes, i think about you."
her: "ok good...i think abt u too and im glad that we are friends....that never has to change. when i talk to u i feel like im talkin to myself in the mirror
i call myself an alien and u are one too...i just hide my green skin and genius weird thoughts under flawless skin eyeliner and lipgloss lol"
me: "it is flawless though."

i know i've used much of this exchange of dialogue before but it doesn't change the fact that i think too much or i've already written about that. i'm a thinker; thinking's what i do.

t.i. should've been like: "we're thinkers nigga!!!", 'cause we ain't taken shit yet. if what she says is true and good thoughts manifest good things, then i was right to tell her that i think about her; 'cause she's the best thing. but we're too busy living life inside of our own minds instead of living life with our own hearts. thinking ourselves out of the happiness that we truly deserve; thinking ourselves out of the lives we want. well, the life we want begins with us together; time to stop taking shit."

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XII"

"now, i've been called a "verbal pimp"; because i keep words as my hoes
i'm getting paid tricking them, and watching how the money flows
to make them use seductive lines, to dress them up in sexy clothes
is how i make them work for me, not shocking 'cause everyone knows

the saying goes: "is brian wilson gonna hafta choke a bitch?"
well, not really, i've been exposed; this is just me talking crap which
shows; true me is me being selfish; writing just to get me rich
"i guess that means that i'm supposed; to pimp words until rich becomes my niche"

again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Writes..."Nicole Simpson Can't Rap...And Neither Can I...XI"

"she staring at a note of mine, wondering who i wrote it to
she asks me who it's devoted to; 'cause she knows my words do what poets' do
they're tributes to those i owe them to, sentiment to hold on to
lasting feelings last for all time, especially when i'm expressing mine"


again, all apologies to "real" rappers, i'm still just fucking around.

Presents..."Lover" by Jasmin Williams

"i love the idea of imagining your mine, belonging only to you. your warmth surrounding me like a womb keeping me safe and feeding me all the things you would have me experience. the thought of being in love with you creates a spark inside of my mind that ignites neurons long thought to be inactive, causing new scientific discoveries everyday that i belong to you. bring me back from extinction baby, discover my prehistorics and use them to your advantage. grow me in your heart and be in love with me too."

"no need to imagine baby, i'm here to make you mine; beyond the dreams i have of us when i lay my head down. where our connection's primal; and you and i, bestial. two bodies intertwined... tangled... forged into symbiosis. breathing life into one another every second we remain caught up together. where me in you's as involuntary as our heartbeats, and our movements's just as rhythmic. i can't dream anymore! it's too painful; to know you're mine in my fantasy but i not loving you in reality. belong to me; 'cause you belong with me. love me; 'cause we are love when you're with me. your love is the treasure i'll claim by my life; i stand before you desperate for you to profess to me the same." - me

Writes..."Baby Steps"

me: “...a new beginning begins with me.”
her: “i can’t believe how that just made me smile. if ur lookin for a blush i’ve got one for u:) a new beginning begins with u? i believe that to be true…maybe thas y i’m smiling huh?”

me: “do you really believe a new beginning begins with me?”
her: "i do… it kind of scares me tho”
me: “me too. but i feel like i’m better just knowing you think that.”
her: "good bcuz it’s the truth…”

"i'm not gonna be around forever. i'm not; and i have no qualms about that realization. people tend to take getting older for granted, but i don't; i thank god everyday for another day i'm still breathing. life is transient at best; you get a couple of years and you try not to waste them with trivial bullshit like unnecessary drama from unnecessary people. so i choose not to fuck up my time here. i'm on a mission; my own crusade of getting what i want. and i want her. question? if you found what you were looking for in another in this life, what would prevent you from pursuing them?

"im scared of this thing that we hav going on bcuz its so innocent and pure but i know deep down that we both want to taint it with love sex drama and kids lol! well i do at least...:-)" – her

me: “:) so we are gonna taint this right? lol!”
her: “i hope so lol!”
me: "i’m gonna need you to know so. lol!”
her: “lol!! ok…i know:)”
me: "that’s better."

her: "i wanna take it slow so that we don’t ruin anything"
me: "slow is good. i want you to be sure you want me. :)"

"i'm not gonna be around forever." when i first wrote those words i knew they could be interpreted different ways. one might think i was saying that we're wasting time not being together and i'm not going to spend a lot of time doing what we're doing. i guess someone could take that meaning from my words but that wasn't my intention in writing them; i only meant to point out that my time here on earth is finite and i won't be around forever. i know i want her; i know she wants me; and while there's a happiness that comes in knowing how we feel about one another, i believe there'd be a greater joy in acting on those feelings. i'm scared; and she scared; and because of that we could continue to delay and deny ourselves, perhaps even move on to other people due to the uncertainty of "us", but those things would be mistakes. letting fear determine "our" future would be a mistake. i'm an arrogant man, but i don't think it's an arrogant statement to say nobody has, or ever will, love her the way i do and will. love her harder may be; love her better definitely is. you know what?! fuck it! i'll say both of those things as well. i am that cocky! but me saying them and her believing them aren't the same thing. so i'll ask her...i'll ask her if she considers a word i speak, one lacking substance; or a word i pen, one without meaning; has she deemed words from me to merely be words? i hope not; i've never really been much for talking. i've been called "shy", "quiet", even "antisocial"...and at times i've been all of those things. it's just that i don't like to waste my words or the energy it takes to bring them to life. when i say or write something, i'm exposing my innermost thoughts and feelings to others; sharing a part of myself that i normally wouldn't. and even though i've written and spoken these words before; and even if this isn't something she's trying to hear right now; the truth is: i love her. period. and i won't say that i shouldn't, even if someone might, because i believe in love without limitations; it can't be defined by time or distance. she once said that she was scared of ruining our friendship by adding love and relationship to the mix; and while i can't speak on the "relationship" part without sounding like i possess the optimism of a hopeless romantic (which i am), i know that the "love" between us already exists. and i know that i've never had any problems with basic addition.

me: "when i said i wanted you, you asked me if i was sure. why do you think i wouldn’t be? and are you sure you want me?"
her: "yes i’m sure of what i want i jus want to take things slow bcuz i love our friendship an i jus wanted to make sure that u were sure wen i asked u lol!"
me: "and you want me? :)"
her: "yes:)"
me: ":) i want you too. we can take this slow, i’m not going anywhere. this bond is too important to me to rush us. :)"

but i understand what she's saying, though i see my recent past has given me a different opinion on what to do about "us". we'd wanted to be together but we waited and waited until there wasn't a "we" anymore; and i'm more afraid of that for us than i am of anything else; of losing out because we think we have more time than we do. she believes in fate and destiny; and she's said if something's meant to be you can't lose out. i believe in fate and destiny as well; and that we're meant to be; i just want as much time as i can get with her while we're both still here. "i'm not gonna be around forever" isn't an ultimatum towards our situation, it's the reality of our own mortality. we're born...then we die. and in the time between, we love; sometimes even loving the right person; and sometimes having that love returned equally; but loving nonetheless. if it's true that the things we are attract people to ourselves that have characteristics similar to our own, then believing that we've been drawn together for a purpose far greater than our own comprehension isn't unreasonable. neither is believing that this is our opportunity at loving the right person and having them love you back equally. this is our shot at being loved the way we deserve to be loved. but i won't rush her into an "us". we're already an "us", even if we aren't using a label for our relationship. we're connected in a way beyond friendship; beyond artist and muse. my two greatest assets are my brain and my heart, and she's in synch with both.

her: “lol! i jus watched this movie that reminded me of us..this guy was an artist and he kept callin the girl he was with his muse:)”
me: “you the girl i'm with? ;) hmmm...”
her: “i don't know...lol...u tell me!”
me: “lol! am i the guy you're with? ;)”
her: “well since were takin it slow..i'd hav to say that that's what i'm aiming for…”

"with every word i pen she falls more in love with me; so i'll write until the day she lets me catch her." - me

so if in loving you have to crawl before you walk, i'll take baby steps because what we'll become when we start running is the goal every person strives to attain. i guess in the end it doesn't matter how slow you are at the math, 1 plus 1 will always equal 2; so shouldn't 1/2 plus 1/2 equal what we're supposed to be together?"

Finally Finished..."An Afterthought"

"if a dude is ever a female's number one priority, he loses his position after she graduates high school. if he ever found himself on the same level as her schoolwork or her family or friends, that all changes the second her name was called and she walked across the stage to receive her diploma. and down the totem pole of importance he falls. well, actually up the totem pole; in native american culture, the more important it was, the closer to the bottom it was. the moment she has to start thinking about paying for her education, her priorities shift...then it's school, work, family, friends, stuff, other stuff, dude. wait, does she have kids? then it's kids, school, work, family, friends, stuff, other stuff, dude. which isn't wrong per se, a quality woman places her children above everything else, especially her man. i get that. and i understand it. but honestly, understanding it doesn't mean i like that it's seems like everything and everybody else come before i do. i don't like feeling like an afterthought."


sometime in early '11, just finished today.

Writes..."Pen-Is Is Two Syllables"

"i just want some brain like a fucking cat scan." - lil wayne

"i want to fuck, period. no exclamation point though, there really isn't any urgency in that statement; it's merely a declaration of future intentions. i want it all, everything your body has to offer me. and i'm letting it be known; so please don't think i don't. now that that's out of my system:

"i want her to play with my dick; suck it, it's flaccid
feel it stretch in her mouth; i'm "mr. fantastic"
plies called it "becky", but i'm more polysyllabic
fellatio? yes please; yeah, i'm being sarcastic"

ok, now it's out of my system. period."

Presents..."My 300th Post"

"remember this day, men, for it will be yours for all time." - king leonidas i

"that's it...nothing special for this one. just recognizing it for what it is. 300 posts on the blog. i started march 20, 2010 and today, july 14, 2011, i hit 300."

Presents..."Paths" By Nicole Chavers

"i walk alone
conscious of the paths that bore me
generations of women who left me too soon
left without giving me the directions of what steps to follow
or which ones to avoid
still putting together my journey
in the shadows of their legacy
via hopes, chances and trials.
i stand on sketchy memories
passed down from stories and conclusions.
i walk alone.
i walk alone in the footprints of
husbandless wives
alcoholic vices
suicide
self-medicating
ingenious
stern
handy
devoted
warrior
beautiful
emotional
mothers
partners
daughters
women who were repeated survivors.
and even when i divert from their patterned steps
i breathe their legacy
pieces of them given life through me
i live in the shadows of my history.
emotional living
birthing creative spirit
emotional living
living through years of silent suffering
emotional living
living.
years of sorrow
tears
silent
internal death
has resurrected me into something different
but still very much connected to these women who came before me
resurrecting myself
to finally be born into peace with the life i have been given."

Writes...""F" Words"

"she walks up to where i am standing and wraps herself around me; wanting. there are tears in her eyes, tears that i don't understand, and she's leaving them all over my shirt. her hands on my face, then my chest, her...fuck, man, why am i still doing this? i'm done; i'm putting down my pen. i could continue writing the next part; about her rubbing her ass on my crotch or i can actually use these hands on her hips to keep it there. i choose the latter. no more words, i'm tired of them. so unless they're inked on her body somewhere, i'm done with words. fuck her, err, 'em."

Writes..."Pissin' Blood, Not Excellence"

“i never looked for an invitation from her in the mail but that’s probably because for the longest time i didn’t even know she was getting married. it’s only through us knowing mutual people, and one of those people mentioning it to me that i even know that she had found somebody else after me. but i’m going to the wedding, invited or not; we have unfinished business and there are things i've held on to that i need to get off my chest. so...in a moment reminiscent of the wedding scene in “the graduate”, i profess my undying love to a woman minutes away from promising herself to another. in front of hundreds of their friends and family, some people i know, but most i don’t, i spill my guts, laying the whole damn deck on the table. stuff like how i never stopped loving her and that we’re always and forever. i’m somewhere in the middle of my diatribe when i notice her husband-to-be; dude’s a teapot and steam’s coming out of both ears. i look into his eyes and i can read his thoughts; “today may have started with a wedding but it's gonna end with a funeral”. he’s cracking his knuckles; warming up his fists for my nose and mouth. i had fucked up; bad, and he’s going to make my face "exhibit a" of just how bad. he advances in my direction but she stops him before he can reach the first pew. she’s fighting her tears as retraces the steps she had taken not fifteen minutes earlier, back down the aisle and to the entrance of the church where i am standing, while hundreds of open mouths and confused eyes follow her. she moves deliberately; despite crying uncontrollably with every step. i stand waiting, nervous, as she approaches me because i honestly don’t know how to interpret what i see before me. she’s still weeping; but i can’t tell if it’s because the words i’ve spoken have touched a part of her heart that i still occupy or because maybe, just maybe, i’ve just ruined what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. i feel kinda bad because i can’t read her, not the way i used to be able to, but the deed's done now. the minister made the mistake of asking if anyone objected to the marriage; and while i didn’t actually say “don’t marry him”, the door had been opened and i stepped the fuck through it by telling the multitude of people there how i feel about her. finally, she reaches me and we stand face-to-face for what can only be an instant, but instants between us tend to become frozen, and this seems like another still-life moment, the kind we used to share when we were together. everyone else in the chapel fades away; and in the photograph there’s no fiancé, no preacher, no 4-piece orchestra, no three-year-old prospecting for gold in his nose as his mother walks him down the aisle with the ring; only we remain and only heartbeats can be heard. once again, she and i are together. me, bummy; dressed in a wrinkled black “dickies” shirt and pants. her, stunning; in a white “vera wang” gown, strapless, with thousands of beads adorning it. her dream dress was a five-figure dress; her veil, four; and i look like i just got off work at a meat plant or a box store. she’s beautiful, even more so than the vision of her i used to have where we were the ones promising ourselves to one another before god. but that was a dream from a past life. langston hughes once asked, “what happens to a dream deferred?”; and i guess my answer would be “this scene from “jerry springer” you’re witnessing right now langston.” we put off loving one another for so long that we moved on to loving other people. and having never gotten closure on “us”, one final, desperate attempt at regaining what we once had was inevitable. anyway, as we stand face-to-face, the seriousness of the situation brings to me back to the reality before me. i notice that her tears have smeared makeup that at one time had been flawless and i feel ashamed because of it. she reaches out to me, pulling me close enough that our foreheads touch for a moment. then she whispers something inaudible into my ear. i’m still trying to figure out what she said when she takes a step back from me, cocking her hand back behind her as far as she can; she’s looking for maximum impact when her fingers hit my face. she slaps the shit out of me, i literally have her fingerprints embedded into the skin of my cheek. and as i’m recovering from the sting of it, i fail to notice that her dude hasn’t stayed where he had been earlier. he’s advanced on me and before i can bring my hand to rub the pain away, he hits me with a two-piece; a cross to the mouth and a hook to the gut. i double over, blood dripping down from my mouth, onto my chin, and then pooling on the carpet. he moves in to finish me off with a knockout blow and this time she doesn't even attempt to stop him. i look at her looking at me and i see disconnect in her eyes; and i realize what it is: there's no me in her anymore. if i was looking for closure, then her allowing this ass-whooping to take place is the ending to the story we'd left incomplete. and there's pain in knowing that, a far greater pain than the beating i've received. he's prepared to hit me again as i manage to pull myself to my knees. i'm leaned back, laughing; the bloodiest, toothiest smile on my face. "what the fuck you smiling for nigga? fuck you nigga!" he lines me up and fires another right at my jaw. then another. but i can't stop laughing. i'm getting my ass kicked, in a church no less, and this shit is hilarious to me; which pisses him off royally. "fuck you bitch!"; and in an instant he's snatched me up by the collar. "nigga, you a crazy mufucka!"; i'm still smiling as i spit more blood onto the floor. two more shots, both to the jaw, and he drops me for a final time. he's still shaking his head as she comes closer to where we are. i'm curled up in the fetal position, bleeding; he's over me and she's moved next to my crumpled body. grabbing the ends of her dress to keep them from getting ruined by my blood, she bends down over me and whispers more inaudible somethings into my ear. then she gets up, takes her man by the arm, and starts to walk away...well, she is walking away until she turns around to come back and kick me in the groin. ahh...closure; fitting, 'cause nothing says we're over like a kick to the groin. i stop smiling then; i always say i "piss excellence" but i'm pretty sure i won't be pissing anything but blood for a while."

Writes..."Fallen"

"dreaming is hell; so i don't dream about touching her anymore. honestly, i don't. the thought that i can't touch her in the real world is torture enough; to awaken from doing so is a punishment both cruel and unusual. the feel of her, heaven; and angels have fallen for far less. when i fell, i fell for her; for the places on her body my fingers dare to tread. men have claimed paradise to lie somewhere above the clouds, but i know it to be within my reach. and that bliss sustains me while she's not with me."

Presents..."To Where You Are" by Josh Groban

"who can say for certain?
maybe you're still here
i feel you all around me
your memories so clear

deep in the stillness
i can hear you speak
you're still an inspiration
can it be

that you are my forever love
and you are watching over me from up above?

fly me up to where you are
beyond the distant star
i wish upon tonight
to see you smile

if only for awhile
to know you're there
a breath away's not far
to where you are

are you gently sleeping
here inside my dream?
and isn't faith believing?
all power can't be seen

as my heart holds you
just one beat away
i cherish all you gave me
everyday

'cause you are my forever love
watching me from up above
and i believe that angels breathe
and that love will live on and never leave

fly me up to where you are
beyond the distant star
i wish upon tonight
to see you smile

if only for awhile
to know you're there
a breath away's not far
to where you are

i know you're there
a breath away's not far
to where you are"

one of my new favorites...

Writes..."Remarkably Remarkable"

me: "we are remarkably similar."
her: "dont i know it! im glad u used the word 'remarkable'"
me: "why? i tend to use that word a lot when i'm talking about you."
her: "cuz i think it describes us perfectly...."

"it's funny, we use the same word to describe our relationship, our feelings and each other. ever since i wrote that i thought she had been "remarkable beautiful" when we were younger, that word, or some variation of it, has become a staple in our conversations...

her: "i know you've probably heard this before but your brain is remarkable tensai :-)"

her: "u are hands down and quite possibly the most remarkable and talented person that i know..."

me: "you flatter me... you truly are a remarkable woman."

her: "i mean everything u write is "great"! its genius! everything is remarkable how cud it get any better?"

and in my writing...

"i remember when we were younger; seeing her and thinking that she was a beautiful girl, remarkably beautiful in fact, and nothing's changed except now she's a beautiful woman. she's still remarkable and she's about to find out that i've thought so for a long time."

"everybody who's just looking at her face or staring at her body, is sleeping on the things that make her truly remarkable."

"i understand the very core of what makes her up, even when the thing that truly makes her remarkable, her soul, is lost on everyone else."

"...that i think i see her for more than most; and that i realize she's a truly remarkable woman."

the day i decided i wanted her to be mine, i knew i wanted her to be mine forever...

i look at myself in he mirror and i see black on black, which isn't surprising because i like black, so i wear it a lot. today it's a solid black knit long-sleeved "southpole" shirt, the logo on the left chest, over a solid black "southpole" t-shirt; some faded black "southpole" jeans and a pair of black "timberland" boots with the same matching white stitching as the jeans. like i said, i like black. my hair's short, naturally curly, but not long enough to actually be curly now; it's only brush fade length, with a beard's that tapered and low. wire frames and a silver "bulova" watch complete the grownup look. got the smell-good on; it's "cool water" for me; has been since i was stealing it from my brother as a teenager. i'm clean; about as clean as i can get and i am ready...

tick… tick… tick… i glance over at my watch and realize that it is time to put down the pen; the “bulova” says “time to start living o’clock”. there are no more words to write…only a life to begin and i now know that living begins with her. i grab my phone and dial her number. “brr-ing…brr-ing…'hey, how are you?'”; and just like that, the future i want begins with a “hey, how are you?”.

the conversation flows like it always does: we talk, we laugh, we even shed a few tears. and we fall in love…because sometimes it’s just that easy. why can’t it be that easy for two remarkably remarkable people? i ask myself: if it’s wrong to tell someone you love them when you don’t, then how is not telling someone you love them when you do any less wrong? i can’t pretend i don’t love her and there wouldn’t be much point in denying that i do.

i ask her if she will come over. i want to see her; to experience a moment or two in her presence. “anything for you”; she’s said that to me more than once and if i were a smarter man i might read something into that. but i’m not really smart, at least not people smart; my ears hear her words but my brain's never processed what she says to me. she agrees to, and within the hour we are hand-in-hand walking towards our special place; a little bridge overlooking a stream i had showed her the first time she had come to visit me. it is special because it was the place where we first shared our feelings for one another face-to-face; the spot where we shared our first kiss; and it was where i pulled out a rolled-up a piece of paper, manipulated the way we used to when we were younger; a long thin strip shaped into a circle and folded over to fake a diamond. and voila, i had my own pseudo-engagement ring. and with it, on bended knee in black "southpole" jeans, i ask her to spend the rest of her life with me.

...i wanted her to be mine forever...

and nothing's more remarkable than her wanting that too."

Writes..."Brian In Real Life...IV"

"it shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that i really only write about me and the things that i'm going through. i mean, like the situations in my posts are either things i've experienced personally or my perspective on what did, may or could have happened in those situations. i guess my point is, to read my blog posts is to know who i am and what i'm about as a person. what i write is insight into the real "brian wilson", based on the daily events of my life. for those who are interested, it's brian in real life...

and in real life every time someone asks me what i'm looking for in a woman, and believe me people ask a lot, maybe it's because i'm thirty-one and single or because they know that i want someone to share my life with, i tell them all the same thing. when they want to know if i like them tall, or light-skinned, or thick, i say one thing: "she's gotta be smart". and then they ask, "you smart?"; like i know what that means. what is "me smart"? am i even "me smart"? smart like "my iq's 155" smart? smart like "i can recall a lot of seemingly useless stuff" smart? or smart like "i quote oscar wilde...all the time" smart? i guess if those things are criteria of being "me smart" then i am "me smart"; but i'm not saying the woman i end up with has to match me in those aspects in order for us to be together. there aren't many people like me out there and to be honest, coupling with someone who does the exactly same things i do intellectually would probably be a little boring at first, and then, annoying. let's just say i want a woman who isn't complacent with what she already knows and has an open mind to learning new things; plus, she can offer me insight into subjects i have little knowledge about. because as smart as i am, i don't know everything.

i remember having such a conversation with my mother in 1999. when i was growing up we never really talked about girls or relationships, so i don't even think she knew what i looked for in a woman. she probably knew when i liked someone but probably never why i did. i don't know if i had an established profile for what i was looking for then.; in fact, i still don't have one. tall, short, skinny, thick, light, dark; the only constant between me and women has been stimulating conversation. my thinking's always been if you don't have anything intelligent to say, we don't need to be talking; and that still rings true.

my mother and i had been discussing this situation concerning me and a fellow employee at the nursing home i worked for; about how she liked me and how i wasn't seeing the obvious signs she was putting in front of my face. i don't know, i probably saw them, but at 19 i was still in my "i'm not really feeling you like that but i won't tell you" stage of my life (hopefully that's only a stage, that remains to be seen). i mean she was cool and a good person and all, but she wasn't for me. i mean, other than her liking me and me liking me, we didn't have very much in common. she definitely wasn't "me smart", i don't even think she was "100 smart"; and knowing that was keeping us apart, despite her appealing qualities. when we talked there was never any depth to our conversations, never any culture to our encounters. she was good with what she was and i needed more than what she could offer me. still do.

she's gotta be smart. not "me smart", just "i don't want to blow my brains out when i'm talking to her" smart."

“smart women love smart men more than smart men love smart women.” - natalie portman

"you may be right about that queen amidala, but not more than this man."

Writes..."V Is For Vivaldi" (The "The 'B5'" Re-Write)

“most people are other people. their thoughts are someone else’s opinions, their lives a mimicry. their passions a quotation.” – oscar wilde

"we all think we’re individuals, with our own individual thoughts and ways but we’re not. and while everyone says they desire snowflake originality, the truth is most people are merely photocopies of another snowflake they think they really want to be. they’re afraid to have their own design; afraid to be unique. they'd rather be one of the crowd. conform to what everyone else is doing. be like everyone else because different is bad. different is bad. bad...

“y are people so scared to be different? i havent been to alot of different places but ive never been scared to be me or to be different.” - myūzu

me either. i'm different; known that as long as i’ve known anything. i've sat here at the “mansion” and come to accept the fact that my mutant power isn’t invisibility or superhuman strength. i can’t move things with my mind or read people’s thoughts. yet i call myself an “x-man”; though it’s only because i’m e"x"ceptional at being me. and "me" isn't like anyone else. i'm not normal, no, i'm not the norm. i'm not a stereotype. i'm not what you would expect. i love vivaldi; have since i heard “the four seasons” for the first time; well, i think it was actually the 3rd “summer” movement that got me hooked on his work. and people knock me for it but it’s who i am and i don’t apologize for it…

“antonio lucio vivaldi (march 4, 1678 – july 28, 1741), was an italian baroque composer, priest, and virtuoso violinist.”

the first movement of “la primavera - concerto no. 1 in e major, op. 8, rv 269” is playing in the background as i snap the clasp of my silver “kenneth cole” watch; i’ve been preparing for this evening, both in my appearance and my mindset. i walk over to the mirror and give myself a thorough once-over; navy, silver pinstriped three piece suit, white shirt, solid silver tie. i’m smart and i don’t mean when it comes to books; i'm clean; about as clean as i can get and i am ready to go. it’s 7 o’clock and we need to be on our way. tonight, we're going to a vivaldi tribute; and as blessed as i feel to be able to afford the luxury of going to this concert, i’m equally as blessed that isn’t something i had to beg my girl to accompany me to. when i told her i was getting the tickets, her only response was when is it and what do i have in my closet to wear to it. she was genuinely excited for it and i was pleased that she was. i’ve always considered myself extremely fortunate that we share an affinity for the arts and that affinity is one of the things that made me fall for her.

tonight is special though because it is vivaldi. i remember when we first starting really getting to know one another; she'd asked me to tell her about myself and i’d mentioned that i wasn’t like anyone she’d ever met before: that i liked listening to vivaldi, reading voltaire and paintings by van gogh. and she responded by saying that i was going to make her have to look up vivaldi. it’s crazy, i can’t really put into words just how much i appreciated her saying that. the thought of her being interested in something that i think sets me apart from everyone else i know, and probably everyone she knows, means more to me than she could ever imagine. and i like the fact that she now knows about vivaldi because i introduced him to her; but i love that her wanting to know about vivaldi didn't have anything to do with me. the desire to increase her exposure to things of culture was already in her, like it's already in me, and that aspect of ourselves drew us together.

i'm still in front of the mirror when i notice her standing behind me in its reflection. she’s stunning in a strapless navy “badgley mischka” dress that hugs every contour of her body; a goddess in satin, sequins and lace. and i ask myself what i, a mere mortal, have done to deserve to have such divinity in my life. when i were younger, and had determined what i wanted to find in a woman as a potential wife or girlfriend or whatever, i came up with the term "the ‘b5’". 5 words that started with the letter "b" that i felt were the perfect criteria for an ideal partner; 5 equal parts that made up the person i felt i could spend the rest of my life with. i used to joke that if a woman had the “b5” (brains, beauty, body, bible and beethoven), she would get a sixth “b”: brian (that’s me). and she did; despite our own skepticism in the beginning…

her: “and u know that the cocky side of (her name)...thinks that she has the 5 b's....cmon now lol…now the 6th one?? she may never get becuz he's such a sceptic....but so is she so it works out fine lol”

me: “why do you think i'm a skeptic?“

her: “i think ur a skeptic becuz u think more than u live and im guilty of the same thing. you'll think yourself out of happiness or anything new or exciting in your life (things that u deserve) becuz u play the whole thing out in your head but u dont take the chance of just playing it out in real life…for better or for worse it makes us both.....(chicken)”

me: “i want to be a smartass and say something sarcastic but the truth is everything you just said is spot on. that's what i do and i'm a (chicken) for it. (crying face)”

her: "lmao!!! awww don’t (crying face).......i know it becuz i am it.”

but eventually we both came to realize that as we’d never be what we could be if we didn’t take a chance on “us”…

her: “u dont think that wud mess up the nice lil friendship that we hav goin on??“

me: “i'd like to think that what we have would enhance anything more between us.“

her: “i guess u cud be rite..... but its safe here.....no heartache no pain”

me: “no being as happy as you can be.”

her: “.....wow .....yeah ur rite abt that”

yeah, i was right about that. right that she would never know a greater happiness than she would by being with me. right when i told i’d love her with a passion that even she never imagined experiencing for herself. but mostly, i was right about “us”; that the day i decided i wanted her to be mine, i knew i wanted her to be mine forever and that I knew this thing between would last as long.

the “b5”; brains, beauty, body, bible and beethoven; the things i’m looking for in another. and while i could elaborate and go into more detail on each one; i could say, "sure, she's a beautiful woman"; or "she does has a ridiculous body"; and i don't mean for either of those comments to sound dismissive, like my attraction to her didn't have anything to do with what she looks like because her appearance did play some part in me wanting to be with her. but the truth is, she's so much more than that. or i could write “bible means she has to believe in god…something something; or beethoven means she has to have a love for of the arts…something something”. but the truth is, i’ve come to realize that the “b5” are as much about me and what i am as they are about what i’ve been looking for in a woman. i’m smart (kinda; iq’s 155), handsome (i’ve been told that a couple times), and fit (maybe; no smartass comment here except i did get a little out of breath writing that). i believe in spirituality, opera, theatre and museums. it appears to me that the purpose of the “b5” was merely to serve as a list of characteristics discovered in myself to look for in someone else. i guess in essence what i’m saying is i was seeking to find myself in another individual. and i did when i found her.

"when i talk to u i feel like im talkin to myself in the mirror” – her

and at this moment, it’s actually her in the mirror talking to me.”

“a goddess to all, in egypt or rome
greece too, she’s beauty, her face and her heart
like botticelli’s aphrodite in foam
she’s a masterpiece; a real work of art

poets write of her, those greater than me
more skilled with the use of a quill and a word
penning lovely prose of what they doth see
one that inspires; a title conferred

a muse to me, my feelings of passion
in describing her essence and all that she is
i “armani” words, that means i fashion
thoughts of us loving; dido and aeneus”

- me...on her

"i thought "b5" = me but it really equals "us".

by the way, if “b” was a variable that i was solving for in the equation “b to the 5th power = ”b” (b^5=b), then “b” would equal 1, 0 or -1. man, i am such a nerd!!!”