moxie.

Fact: I don’t know who I am.

I’m scared that my life is a waste and I’m my parent’s biggest disappointment.

That my experiences will be empty and lead nowhere.

That I’ll have no impact on anything or anyone.

That I won’t be remembered.

I’m afraid that there is no one to love me.

That there is no husband in my future or children or grandchildren and I’ll die alone in some empty room with no one around me to reminisce over memories of our life together.

I’m afraid that the decisions I’ve made will prevent me from living a life full of friends, family, love or laughter.

I’m scared of becoming old, and fat and gray.

I’m scared to let people in because, what if that they wont like me.

I’m scared that I’ll fail.

That I’ll prove everyone who doubted me right.

That this move isn’t the right move and the person I see myself becoming is just a figment of my imagination.

I’m scared that I’m just a boring, stagnant person who stands for nothing.

But mostly I’m scared that my fears will get the best of me.

So, here is to aspiring for greatness.

Conquering our fears instead of letting them take us over.

Fact: I don’t know who I am, and even though I’m terrified I’m on a mission to figure it out.

this is the world we live in

you make my heart hurt. didnt ever think you’d have this affect on me.

One thing blogging and good copywriting share is a conversational style, and that means it’s fine to fracture the occasional rule of proper grammar in order to communicate effectively. Both bloggers and copywriters routinely end sentences with prepositions, dangle a modifier in a purely technical…

I got sucked into His lifestyle for a short period of time. The drugs consumed me.  They made me feel numb. It felt nice not to smile, not to breathe, and not to think. One night we stood at the bar and he said, “Put this under your tongue.” I opened my mouth and he dropped a pink pill between my lips. He leaned down and whispered into my ear, “don’t swallow it, just let it dissolve until you don’t feel anymore.” I took a sip of my PBR and that was it.

At first I felt tired, but more alive that I had in years. “You’re going to feel amazing. Just let it sink in.” I barely heard him; I just wanted to feel something different for a change. I already knew I was going to go somewhere special, because I wasn’t afraid. I wasn’t cautious or worried; I was excited—ready for the unknown. My knees started to shake and the walls started to melt away. The music in the background rattled in my ears. Two girls in the back corner of the bar whispered ‘I love you’s’ to one another and started to make out. I dug my feet into the floor with the hope that the high would take me someplace better than this. “I want to feel this somewhere else.” He grabbed my hand and we dove for the car without even a second thought.

The drive home made me dizzy. My eyes couldn’t focus. I became nauseous. We had to pull over so he could drive. The city lights looked big and enticing.  They lured me in with their vibrant luminosity. I crawled out of the window, against the wind and speed of the car and slithered up the lampposts so I could touch the florescent lights and become illuminated too. I sat on top of the city and looked down on the people as they stumbled home, holding hands and singing the last song the bar played. I reached out and scooped up the trees off the mountainside so I could smell the pine like flowers in my hand without moving from my haven at the top of the city. The scent made me throw up. He pulled over. Beer and then bile. “Get me home.”

“Take some cocaine, it will sober you up.” He took out a small plastic bag and dumped it out onto a framed picture of my old life. He took out a credit card and crushed the powder into fine crystals underneath a five-dollar bill. I stripped down to my bra and underwear and sat at the foot of the couch. I opened my laptop and searched for music we could dance to. “Here, take this.” He slid me the frame and a rolled up bill. I smiled at him but he didn’t look up at me. He popped the top of his tall boy and got up to pace around the kitchen. Here we go. I cleaned my sinuses and then flooded them with powder. I closed my eyes, and licked my lips. One more. Two more. My teeth numbed and hardened. If I moved my mouth they would shatter into a million little pieces and you wouldn’t be able to decipher between the cocaine and the ivory. I got up off the floor and laid down on the couch. The pill was in full force and the cocaine was making my heart race like I was chasing a stuffed bunny around a muddy track.  I closed my eyes.

I listened to Conor Obert and Loretta Lynn and dreamed of bats flying over my head beckoning werewolves and narwhals to join together in an army against the Vikings. They were planning to take over our house from land, sea and sky and I was defenseless because the cocaine made my knees wobbly, I couldn’t fight them off on my own.

I opened my eyes and saw my cat, needles, spoons and worms climbing up the walls.

I closed my eyes again. I saw shooting stars and a snake wrapping its body around the arms of my lover until the circulation was cut off and his veins exploded, covering the carpet with blood.  The blood filled the room and flooded my ears.

I opened my eyes.  My nose was bloody. “I need a tissue.” He took a sip of his beer and threw me a dishtowel from where he stood in the kitchen.

I cleaned myself up and got up to change the music. He followed me to the floor and sat across from me. We sat Indian style with out knees touching. He looked me in the eye and The Avett Brothers sang us a lullaby.  He cocked his head and looked from my eyes to my lips to my chest. He moved in to kiss my lips but I turned my head and leaned back so his lips ran into my neck. He kissed me there for a moment and then moved to my lips. “Touch me,” I demanded. He smirked. He moved his hands from my knees up my thighs and to my panties. He didn’t look at me; his eyes were glazed over. He pulled my panties to the side and put his fingers inside me. “Lay down,” he said, and I did. He pulled my panties off and I took off my bra. He kissed the inside of my thighs and then the lips of my vagina until my moans became a scream. I don’t know how long it lasted, but I’ve never been so wet in my life. The Vikings were coming, I was glad we got this out of the way beforehand.

I got up and we moved to the bedroom. I fell to my knees on the way.  Between the bats and the come and the drugs, I felt disheveled. I stood back up and that’s when God clapped his hands and made the earth quake around me. I stood in the middle of the destruction amongst all the boxes that held the broken pieces of my life. I used to feel a great pull inside me that made me want to pick everything up and put the pieces back together. Now the cocaine lingered in my veins and blurred my vision. The walls cracked, the floors shook. The holes got deeper until all I could see below me was a black void. I wanted to fall down, and sink into oblivion. But falling takes effort. I just stood there and hoped that the quake would shake me off my feet so I could float down into the abyss, away from the shambles around me made up of my broken existence.

I closed my eyes, hoping that when I woke up, the destruction would be gone. There would be no reminisce of this drug-consumed daze.

urbanredneck:

My first artistic love.