Home Away From Home

I walked into a room with candle light, soft music and a place to sit. And in this room I felt so warm. So cared for I forgot how to properly sit. Where did my manors go? This room has walls with colors that put me at ease. Suddenly the chair turned into a chaise lounge and I layed my head back and closed my eyes. I layed there until it was time to go.

I became a little sad, for this place felt like home away from home. So as I left, all I could think about was when I would return to this room so I can feel the way the way I did when I was there. Warm, cared for, at ease.

My Vagina Is More Than Just A Baby Temple

Everyone loves vagina, that is why they say " Pop that pussy! heyyy! Pop that pussy, baby! Pop that pussy!". No, I'm being serious. People love vagina so much that they even opened up salons to eliminate the hair that grows on your vagina so you don't have to! Brilliant! Just lovely.

People love vagina so much that after a break up, you still fuck. And if you're not still fucking, you're thinking about. And if you're not breaking up then your seeking vagina from another. That's how powerful our shit is. Sometimes when things get really shitty we start making deals, like, if you do all the dishes this weekend you are guaranteed some pussy. We're evil like that.

It's funny when it's bathing suit season, you men all try and hope a lip falls out and shit. Dirty mother fuckers. You don't admit it, but you sure do think that shit. It's like men and the lesbo's can't function with out some pussy. And if you're not popping that pussy, you're wanking your tank.

Vagina is the only thing that we all want to go bald. We don't want any hair down there. Well, sometimes it's cute with a little trim and shit. But back in the day, I've seen some girls with complete baldness and it didn't look to good on them. They looked like 12 year old boys. I don't know what a 12 year old boy looks like down there, but I can't imagine them having hair already at 12. Well, unless your Italian or Mexican...We can call you Pedro. I will vote for you.

I know men love vagina so much that they go into their 40's as single old farts because they like to think vagina will be available on call 24/7. No buddy! Not even with all the money in the world. Not even if you are a retired model. No sir. That dick is 40 years old. There really isn't anything wrong with 40 year old dick if you're married to it.

I mean, vagina has its age too but it will never go limp. It stays magical. It's not just a baby temple. It's a golden holster for your golden dick. Only special ones can be called that.

Men, unless we want you to treat our magical vagina like shit don't do it. We will spread the word to all our girls and you will then be known as the "shit treating vagina man". You will get no play, or better yet, you may only get FB friend requests from hairy vagina girls.


Don't get me wrong!! Sometimes, and only sometimes, we want you to be a dirt bag and fuck the shit out of us! We need one of those every once in a while. Some whores just like it like that around the clock.

Vagina, Vagina, Vagina!!!

Slow Dancing in a Burning Room

This song really described all the levels we went through. And even though this song is meant for breaking up situations, I still love it even when I'm not getting left.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wvxdxiox4Pg

Thank you John Mayer for having a song for every emotion I have. You read my mind.

Pain is Pain

No matter all the advice that I get, or the conversations I have. Or the replays that occur, at the end of the day it hurts. Its going to hurt for a long time. And it's always going to hurt until it goes away.

Its painful when I wake up and it still hurts when I go to bed. It hurts when I see a photo of us and it makes me sad when I remember when and why we took it.

I feel like everything around me is okay and will be doing better as the days pass me. But there is this small bubble inside of me filled with all the love I still have for him and all of the memories. When it gets poked or rubbed the wrong way, it starts to leak. Then I'm reminded and so I get really sad. Now its no more than 10 or a few more minutes at a time.

I want to get off this ride.

The Remains of It All

Empty rooms filled with silence
Empty bottles of wine
A broken heart laying on the floor
Tears blinding the rear view mirror
Permanent rain clouds
One bed to share
Painful conversations
One billion questions
Four empty tissue boxes
Love songs in every direction
A house that isn't a home
Memories become salt to a wound
Tomorrow's take too long
Yesterday's still linger
Today doesn't want to be here

Love

love
   /lʌv/ Show Spelled [luhv] Show IPA noun, verb, loved, lov·ing.
–noun
1.
a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.

I looked up the meaning of love. It seems as if people have forgotten why we say it when we hopefully really mean it. I thought love was this emotion that couldn't be explained in detail, it was something you did.

It's when he's at home sick and all you want to do is be sick for him. Its when you have lost your way into his heart and never plan on asking for directions. It's when he kisses you on the forehead every night when you sleep. It's when he makes gives you the last bite.

It's when he can cry on your shoulder when he is really down. It's when your love isn't a secret. It's in the way he strokes your hair. The way he grabs your face when he really misses you.

I've learned that the pain after someone has loved you and left you just shadows everything you once had. It erases everything you thought was fantastic. Then you spend the next three months crying, trying, and giving up.

The pain starts in your eyes, so you begin to cry. Cry so hard where the tears stop pouring and you're just left with all the tears on your shirt and this horrible frown you can't seem to get rid of. Then your brain starts to realize what is happening so you get so mad that he would even dare break your heart. That's when the questioning happens. The pain then travels to your heart and from there it travels into the blood stream. Your hand throb of pain as your reminded he used to love to hold your hand. Then your lips tingle because you can't remember the last time he kissed you. Your tummy starts to hurt and you can't eat, nothing taste good without him. It's like you're not living any more.

Coming to terms and knowing he will never love you again is like drowning in a room full of life guards. I can't understand like I should.

No!

You know what, I'm having a damn good time. I am feeling different. Yeah he broke up with me but he broke up with all of me. I'm fucking tired of sitting around having these stupid thoughts and then I look like a fool at the end of the day.

I've said things that I am meaning to stick with. I have taken actions that I am not regretting. I will eventually have a rebound and I will make the absolute most of it because I can.

I'm starting to get this anger and if I don't let it out soon I am going to explode. Being single isn't something I'm used too, but I like the way it feels. And I like all that has happened and all is about to.

From now on, if you want to know what's wrong, I will tell in a snap! It's not going to be the nicest, and it's not going to sound like I care what you think. But men seem to have this HUGE problem with not letting us girls just try and figure out what we can do. When the pressure is on is when we tend to get annoyed.

I believe in things more and I know what I can do to make those beliefs become reality.

But first things first, mama always said stick to what always works!

I'm doing and I'm liking!

Damn Those Eggs!

You know when I cook eggs I cook them where they are no longer runny. I hate that shit. I hate eating eggs that get my tortilla or bread soggy. No, fuck that shit. People! When I go somewhere and ask "cook my eggs well done please" that means make my shit well done. WTF, I don't need all this runny shit. If I wanted runny, I'd let me fucking ice cream melt in my damn bowl.

Every time he fucks my eggs up. Then I have to sit at my desk and stare at that shit. I have to use like 45 napkins to drain all that runny egg juice. Man, this is why I become a bitch when it comes to having someone else cook for me.

Where Does It Go Once It's Said & Done?

This happens all the time. People break up that are still very much in love with each other. You say its for the best, but the only best thing you see is right in front of you and he doesn't want you anymore. Everything you've put into your heart and everything you've given with your heart is now worthless. For he doesn't want you to fight for his love, he doesn't want you to be upset over it. He said he didn't want or mean to hurt you, but a bond is breaking and it's not just hurting me but a few others around.

Where does the love go when things go sour? How do you try and move on with all this love for someone else in your heart? I know most people try and harvest it in their friends, family, hobbies, dating...whatever it takes to make that love not feel like it was for him. It's less painful that way.

You were in love the entire year of your relationship. Then suddenly it took 72 hours to end it all. To end it all with so much love left. So much hope you thought you had. Then it's gone just like that.

Love doesn't end overnight just like a person can't change over night.

Sour Punch

You wind up somewhere you never thought. In a puddle of emotions you didn't think could happen when you're broken. And while you're there all you can think about is how much longer could life go on before realizing it was all happening? How many questions needed to be asked before knowing its your heart you should listen to, your mind you should never ignore and your intuition that will never disappear?

Heartbreak on Level 10

The skies stay blue,
people get up for work.
The roads still hold traffic,
and the lights always turn green.
How is the world still going
when my heart is broken?
How is my body functioning
with a missing piece?
Coffee doesn't taste the same.
Food just doesn't have flavor.
I have 6 different types of bottles drinks
and I have yet to finish one.
Laughing becomes difficult.
Holding back just gets worse.
But yet,
The skies stay blue...

There's Nothing I Can Do

I really just want to love him,
To tell him everything he is to me,
To show him the deeper part of my heart.
I really feel like all that love was given up.
Like hope left and never plans to return.
Things I said.
Things I didn't.
How many times do I sit and replay it
Until it goes away?
That lump in my throat seems to like it there.
My eyes are sore from all the tears.
I'm exhausted from being in love
When I can't be loved.
But I won't become a zombie.
I won't sit around and cry.
The worst is over,
And even though I'm in pain,
I'm still breathing.

Bad Lemon

Let that lemon roll off the counter
onto that cold floor
let someone find her
see what she's meant for
maybe she's there for a lesson
or to be thrown away
she isn't better than rest
she isn't an innocent stray
she is the kind of lemon that is beyond bitter
more than a choice
no one knows her
no one hears her voice
but someone picks her up
puts her in their bag
she doesn't feel any love
it's just to sad....

And Bingo Was Him Name=O

I can't have dairy products often and when I do have them good things do not happen to me. I decided to try this new place by work, a Mexican food joint. I heard lots of great things about it and so there I was eating it all up! I even got a large horchata! Love those things.

Well, 20 minutes later and my belly is having some issues. Now I'm telling my belly to chill out cause I'm at work and can't be on a pooping mission right now. But it has a mind of its own. Well I can't go poop on my floor, we all know the 2ND floor bathrooms are for pooping. Duh! So there I am flying down 2-3 flights of stairs like if someone was chasing me with a chainsaw. I've never ran so fast down those stairs in heels, but it was an emergency.

I'm hoping, I'm praying that there is not one person in that bathroom cause I'm going to feel really bad if they have to hear what's about to happen. Oh man, my belly is killing me. I slide into the last stall, drop my chonies and BINGO WAS HIS NAME-O!!!!!!!! Holy cow! Man, it's horrible. I thought my bum was from another country by the way it was talking and shit......hahahahahaha.

So finally after 15 minutes of shit, I was done. The race was over. Cut the ribbon and lets get back to work. I couldn't even button my pants up, thank goodness I had a long shirt on!

Pooping at work isn't so bad. Unless everyone is the same building had to share the same bathroom - yikes!

I think I lost my soul back there...

Worry My Life Away

If you don’t have anything nice to say don’t say anything at all. But that’s the problem, I always have something to say and most of the time it isn’t something that is meant to be nice. It’s honesty. I have an easy opinion and it’s not meant to be held in.

I always have lots of things on my mind, I will always worry. I don't think I've lived my life without worry. If I did I may just go insane.

Believe it or not, I actually rather not talk about it sometimes. Some days I just want to be alone. Do my own thing. I'd much rather have less questioning and would more than gladly accept a hug. No words need to be exchanged, just a hug.

I'm an extremely emotional person. Not too many people can keep up with me because of that. But the ones that can usually know that all I need is a hug and just for you to sit next to me. I feel more calm that way, like you really care and really want to know.

Questioning makes me think you want to put your own curiosity as ease no matter what it is but as long as you know. That's all that matters. Well, fine. Push me two more inches away, that's only going to get this no where.

Soft responses is what I need. I don't need to feel like I'm being interrogated when somethings is wrong. But that's the way you deal with things and this is this is my way.

I should never feel the need to ever call anyone else for advise. I should never feel the need to lean on someone else's shoulder. I should never feel like I don't have anyone to talk to that really cares.

Yeah Whatever

I have to tell you that so many people think that I have this piece of girly-ness missing because I prefer not to have flowers giving to me on days you're supposed to give those. I don't like surprises because I thinks it's cliche and it's not exciting to me.

I don't celebrate Valentine's Day with someone because it's forced. Most men hate it because their women nag on how they better be getting them something good or whatever. It's just something else to fight about.

I'm the kind of girl that just wants your attention. All the time. I want to have songs played for me that remind you of me. I want flowers on a rainy day that is least expected. I want to be given chocolate once a month, because that is the only time I really ever want it. I want to be told everything you love about me at random times.

I may like having an agenda, but when it comes to the mentioned above....I'd rather you wing it.

But who am I to say all this shit. People date and its great in the beginning but then you turn into every other couple. And all those super awesome comments stop.

I'm not an average girl. I like to ask for a lot and get a lot in return. I expect too much. But that is a problem I am willing to live with. I could care less about settling down right now. But if I'm 50 years old and have no one, then I might consider marriage. I might consider that there is someone for everyone.

There are a lot of things I would like to believe and things I don't believe it.

But hey you learn something new everyday and then you apply that new lesson and keep on going.

Please Do.....me better

Cross my heart hope to die, stick a thousand needles in my eye
If I live to see another day
Stick one thousand more
If then I live to breathe once more
Blind fold my life as my eyes are sore
If then I become weak of the dark
Then show me little light as I refuse to live little
Keep me contained in a box not fragile
And stamp ship to china on the side
Send me to a place where my face has not been seen
Send me to a place where I no longer need to hide
Wrap me up in bandages
And don't tell anyone where I have been
Cross your heart hope to die, stick a thousand needles in
your eye?

My Story

She wakes up with apple juice stains on her t-shirts and Lego's under the covers.
She doesn't like ketchup with her eggs, but her kids love it.
She never eats dinner because she'd rather see her daughter off to sleep.
Shower time is relaxing time until someone can't reach the juice on the counter.
Her work is everything until she's tired and wants to go home.
She doesn't drink the milk after her bowl of cereal or after dipping cookies in it.
This all may seem weird to people, but to her kids she's mommy.
Some days she watches cartoons even when her kids aren't around.
Some days she falls asleep with her daughters blanket and her sons pillow.
Her kids don't care if there isn't enough time to watch that movie for the fifth time.
Her kids think its funny that she sleeps with one leg out of the covers and with 5 pillows.
She hates it when her arm falls asleep but nothing she can do since one of her angels are sleeping on it.
She curses and kicks air when she's mad, he kids laugh at it.
She talks to herself all the time, no matter who's around.
She waits to fill up on gas when the light comes one.
She's never on time.
She enters a room hoping no one is looking at her.
Bed time is usually around 8pm.....even on the weekends.