Fire
Sorrow. Grief. Despair. Sadness.
Emotions that you can never explain. And for some reason they feel so much more powerful than happiness. You might not remember all your happy moments, but the moments that wrenched your heart always stay with you. Sadness makes us questions everything, makes us look deep into our hearts and fight with our demons. The one we didn't know existed. The ones we pretended don't exist. When something clenches your heart, all your fears wash over you all at once. And you feel almost paralysed. Lost. And exhausted.
Sometimes it creates a storm inside you, wrecking everything, forcing the tears out of your eyes that you seem to have no control over. It's like an uncontrolled blazing fire.
Then there's melancholy. More like a controlled burn. It's been inside you for so long, you've even forgotten that there's a cause to the ache that you feel. It simply becomes a part of you, not going away, chipping away the rest of you, making it's presence known occasionally leading to long restless nights.
Sometimes you feel angry for feeling so helpless. Tired of the sinking, heavy feeling that has grasped you. You want to let go of it. You want to cry, but your eyes won't acquiesce. You want your brain to shut up but it won't. Your heart seems too heavy to carry around, every breath you take requires extra effort, and you just want to cocoon into yourself under a blanket, never come out, and escape reality.
So you lie awake at nights, willing yourself to feel anything but this heaviness that has enveloped you, eventually falling asleep with dreams coloured in the dark colours of your soul.
Then one day, it happens. The trigger can be anything. Innocent words spoken by a friend, a distant memory, a stranger with a familiar face that you saw while coming home. And all your emotions come flowing out. Like flood waters, uncontrollable, wiping everything out, clearing the slate. Only in this case, they aren't destructive. They are cathartic. And the tears that come out of your eyes finally take the numbness away. It hurts. It really hurts. All the regret, the broken dreams, the hatred toward yourself, wash over you. You cry for a long time, and eventually the heaviness goes away replaced by an emptiness yet lightness that you haven't felt for a long time.
And though the pain hasn't miraculously gone, you're on your way out of the proverbial tunnel.
The road seems long, you still can't see the promised light, the end is not in sight. But you're on your way.
art
I was never the greatest artist.
My hand shook too much, my strokes too hard to erase, leaving gashes of lead on the paper despite fruitless time spent erasing. But I knew what good looked like.
And you, you were art.
Your hands feather-light, quick strokes of stiff lead, buffed out into soft edges,
Your eyes, so alive, oil paint swirls of earth-toned colors,
Your mouth, a swab of dark pink watercolor, brushed to fit just perfectly into a crooked smirk,
You took my breath away.
You were a painting, a drawing, a piece of sheet music,
Your laugh a soft chorale.
The artist that made you spent careful time in arranging every color, every note, to fit harmoniously and I made sure to be careful when I held your wrist, lest I smudge the charcoal.
I was too clumsy, hands and lips leaving marks in the canvas, trailing wet paint into the corners,
But I would never be able to unwrite you, uncreate you,
For your symphony is so much greater than anything I could ever muster.
If you were a masterpiece, I was a sketch on loose-leaf binder paper
And your inked shadows covered up my light.
Lamentations at the Opera
Coy ballerina upon stage of Lustre
She flirts and twirls
My innermost into frenzy of knots
Oh to be the salve
For tenderly aching feet!
Would that bounteous beads
Of sweat a-gleaming
Transmute into beauteous jewels
To carry
To cherish
To remember you by
Upon a day
This lonesome soul
Shall pine for thee again.
Your Dick Pic Cured My Cancer
My best friend Amanda Cary ( no stranger to dick pics herself ) came upon this whilst scrolling through Craigslist 'flagged' adverts.
This needs to be shared and flagged as being just too fucking awesome.
Diane.......if you are out there and I know you are........we are your biggest fans.
Actual Craigslist Ad. Not my own work :
I met you in the cafeteria about a week ago at the University of Chicago Medical Center.
We struck up a conversation about chemotherapy and insurance premiums. You spoke of your ailment of having crohn's disease and I spoke of my battle with breast cancer. You were slightly taller than me and had a sleeve arm tattoo which I admitted liking...
While we were talking, I began to tear up while informing you that my prognosis was elevated to stage 3 and that stage 4 means terminal. You were very attentive and held my hand as I explained my fears about it. As the conversation moved towards the weather and where we each respectively parked, you advised me to park in a different garage, one that I wasn't aware of and that was closer.
'Here, give me your number,' you said me. 'I'll text you with what it looks like.'
Without hesitation I did and really only with the expectation that I wouldn't have to walk so far (It's not good to be on chemo and walking in the hot weather).
As we parted ways and left for the day, I got home and assumed you forgot to text me. However as I set my phone down on my counter, suddenly it vibrated to an unknown number's text. When I opened up the text in my in my condo which had dim lighting at the time, I saw a beautiful rod appear on my phone's screen. The glow shined on my face and penetrated my spirit. I really felt it change me. Even though you had not shared your name previously, I knew the dong I was viewing had belonged to you because I had recognized your hand holding up the miniature coke cola bottle next to your penis.
Stripping down from my clothes, I was elated to see 4 more pictures arrive as I began to do what any woman would do and self enjoy them. Following the pictures, you also texted me the following lines over the duration of the next hour but I was busy in the bathtub violently masturbating....
"Hey"
"You there?"
"Yo what up?"
"Did you like?"
"Hey"
"Want more?"
"Hey it's me, how r u"
After finishing up my gratuitous session of various climaxes to the sounds of a saxophone in the background, I decided to light a cigarette and write about the occurrence in my diary while contemplating how I would respond to your communique....
Admittedly, I had also taken a deluxe-gigantic-shit, known in medicine as a 'dgs' while I was writing and my phone fell into the toilet. The next day I took it to apple and they refused to touch it and said it was impossible to access your number.
And unfortunately by the time I got a new phone with my same number, your texts had stopped :(
I was preparing to get over you. It was just yesterday that I came in to the hospital for another round of chemo, still very sad our saga had come to an end because of my phone falling into the toilet bowl filled with my poop and pee. That's when my doctor came in shortly after drawing up my blood and feeling my tiddays, catching me completely by surprise by with what he told me next....
"You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are cured. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
Grabbing his arm as he began to walk out the room, I just had to be sure... "What did you say?"
"Your breast cancer is totally cured. Judging by the tests we have done with our fancy medical equipment and group of Asian people in the labs who were looking at tubes and stuff, we can find no more blast cells in your boobies. You don't have breast cancer anymore. You are now perfectly healthy."
"That's impossible, I was stage 3 last week," I told him. "The only thing that changed was that a man sent me a series of dick pics to my phone...."
It was here my doctor put his hand on my shoulder and gave it to me straight. "That was not a man. That was an angel, my lady. And often times God sends angels to do that because he knows what makes us happy."
At this very moment another doctor chimed in from the back ground.
"Hi. I'm a professional doctor of cancer too and he is right. You see your phone gives off a tiny amount of radiation. When you glanced at those pictures, they in a sense delivered a lethal dose of it to your cancer and killed it completely. Forever. The pictures of a penis provide the exact amount of radiation needed due to the peach hue emitted by the phone's screen. What's more, since we at the hospital note that we can't take credit for curing you, we are destroying all of your existing medical debt. Please see Shelia at the desk who can validate your parking and call if you have a headache."
As I left the hospital and cried tears of joy all the way to my car, abruptly those tears became tears of sorrow and loss when I reached the parking garage because it reminded me of you. Plus I forgot to see Shelia at the desk who apparently was able to validate my parking.
I still have not heard from you and I do hope you get my message because I owe you my life.
Please write me here or text me if you still have my number.
You are my hero and guardian angel.
I love you.
Sincerely,
Diane
Little White Rabbit.
Little white rabbit down your rabbit hole.
Give back the blood that we all know you stole.
Little white rabbit with your sharpened claws and pointed teeth.
We know it is you that is the real beast.
You snuck into their closet and came out at night.
You only wanted a nibble but you took a bite.
The blood came out as they screamed in agony.
You waited and watched but showed your true savagery.
You grew into a big hare beast and took all their blood.
You left them cold right were they stood.
Not all cute and fury now are we?This little white beast that we all called a bunny.