at a loss

who, what, where, when
Why?
How, did I get here.

I remember the
gentle night air on my cheek,
blowing away with it
the parts of my heart that i dropped along the way.

I remember
wishing that that same air could
carry me back in time so that
maybe
i could make it right.
but could i.
how would i get to right,
and
how can i recognize this,
as wrong.

How, did I get here.

I can't recall
who I became in that moment
when all was lost,
but it was me.
I can't recall
what I decided to say to
verbalize the melting pot of emotions that were
cooking in my gut,
but I spoke.
I can't recall
where I told my legs to go,
but they moved.
I can't recall
when the color faded
and blackness flooded my eyes,
but it did.
I can't recall
why.
but i guess i'm not all that surprised.

I can't recall
the sky falling through the walls,
but it had to,
I think.

How, did I get here.

there aren't enough words,
in any language
for me to explain how i feel right now.

I wish
someone could tell me it was gonna be alright,
and mean it.

what a feeling.

Like mind numbingly great sex..
Without the whole
pre-game 4play and
the whole post-game cuddling.
No no, this
gets straight to the point..
This caters to each of my senses
like a sex God made just for
Me..
This is
Orgasmic.

Clouds floating like marshmallow puffs all around me
The wind knocking every inch of me like a stranger asking for a welcoming hand
The freezing cold warms my insides creating a burning flame in my heart
I'm breatheless. Literally.
And just like that, I'm floating.
Beauty surrounds me and I fight against my eyelids
because I'm scared if I close my eyes
even for a second,
Ill miss something.
And I know that from this point on
I will always understand why they say
"skydivers know why birds sing".

I think I was made to fly.

whats the rush...

Zig zaggin,
No stopping to smell the perfume coming from that woman who hides her insecurity beneath that floral scent.
No stopping to admire the pretty colored leashes with no dogs at the end.
No stopping to hear the clunk clunk clunk of the heels on the tiled floor which is used as a ploy to get attention when really…those toes are screaming for a pair of cotton socks and nike sneaks.
No stopping to feel that person you just bumped into, because after all they were in your way.
No stopping to taste the sweat dripping down your face, sweetly asking for a break in pace.
I hope wherever your going was worth all you missed along the way.

Oh em Gee

So the other day on my way into working I was listening to the radio, and they were talking about this women from this tv show Britain's Got Talent. After listening to them talk about her performance I absolutely had to youtube it. And I must say, Susan Boyle is the most gripping display of "don't judge a book by it's cover" that I have ever seen. it gives me goosebumps...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9lp0IWv8QZY

a break from my current life.

So is it abnormal to be a 24 year old woman and not have the desire to go out and party? I've been so about work, so about family, so about gym, and so about reading...and so OK with that. Granted, the rare times I do go out, I enjoy myself, but it's just not something I really care to do. Maybe I'm abnormal...but if so I'm ok with that. Nonetheless, I just had 5 days off straight, definitely not a vacation, but eventful..

I got to attend a ridiculously dope poetry jam last week. Now these kind of outings, I love. What a night of beautiful words, beautiful thoughts, beautiful people. all LOVE. complete motivation. and going to dinner with 3 of the poets was just icing on the cake!
just some memorable words out of the many I heard that night:
"how the hell did mother earth become a man's world" -Kesed
"forever loyal
never deceitful,
no other culture can equal
to the rythm of my people" - Lemon

And...my return to NYC, por fin! I've had a love affair with NYC for a few years now, but we've been on the outs for a while. My heart wasn't broken, no huge argument was had...we simply grew apart and went our separate ways. Pero, the moment I smell the NYC air, touch my feet to it's pavements...it's like I fall in love all over again. I don't necessarily miss it when I'm away, but when I'm there, it's natural. The time and distance only makes the reunions that much better.

-til next time

my dad is a beautiful man.

In one of my most recent reads there was this concept of love never being equal in relationships. that one person always loves the other more. Maybe its 70/30, maybe 60/40, but it's always slightly lopsided at the least. So I started to think about this concept. And I took more notice then usual. I've definitely always known who that person is in my parents relationship, but I never quite looked at it, or thought of it in that way, until I read this book. But I know, without a doubt, that my dad is the one who loves more. She is the air he breathes, the blood pumping in his veins, the sunshine on his most beautiful days. She is his heaven and hell. He adores her, from the smallest nail on her littlest toe, to her knees and her back which are crying from age, to the laugh lines on her face and her now completely gray hair. He.adores.her. This is not to say she doesn't love him. I know personally, that she thanks God for him on a daily basis. But, if this lopsided love theory is true...then it is and always has been quite clear where the heavier side lies.

My dad makes me want to believe that chivalry is not dead. My dad, who will walk my mother in from the car with her arm tucked safely under his, and then return to the car as many times as it takes to bring in whatever they may have been out getting. My dad, who would allow my mom to lay in bed all day if she wanted to, climbing up and down the stairs a million time to get her whatever she may want. My dad, who still, after more then 30 years, brings home flowers for every holiday, and this includes the "i just wanted to holidays" that come at least a few times a year. My dad, who gets up early every Christmas, to make us all the biggest breakfast ever. My dad. He is a huge part of the reason I know I will never settle. After growing up watching this adoration my dad has for my mom, how could I ever settle for anything less then that.

My dad is a beautiful man.

my hair does not define me

Why is it that so many women seem to base so much of them in such an extraneous thing. Hair. It can be grown out, cut, dyed, straightened, curled. You can even add extensions, or weave. It's an accessory. But it's like some women find comfort...solace behind their locks. Like without long, flowing hair their somehow less of a woman...less feminine. And, may I say, it doesn't help that so many men think it's ludicrous for any woman to cut off her long locks...to wear a do that barely touches her shoulders...or even worse, barely touches her neck!

So, I've had fairly long hair for most of my life. When I was young, from when my hair first began to grow til about adolescence or so, my hair was the longest. An utter tomboy with hair down to my butt. Then I cut my hair...a few times actually, throughout my teenage years. But it was really never shorter then just below my shoulders...so I guess that was ok...perhaps still accepted in this long hair world. Lately I've been thinking about a cut..and then last week I had a conversation with my cousin, who was desperately wanting to cut hers. Then, the first chance I got, an early work day, I just decided. I told my cousin lets go...and we did. And I chopped my hair off. Now the longest part of my hair doesn't even reach to my chin. And, I love it. It's quite- freeing...to only have to run your fingers through your hair, and then head out to wherever your going. To not feel any wet hair touching your back when your stepping out of the shower. To not have your hair get caught under your backpack when you throw it over your shoulders. I think it matches the me I'm growing into. And...this time my mom was the one biting her finger nails while I sat calmy in my hairdressers chair. I wasn't worried. After all...

it's just hair.

-j