CLOTHES ARE ART

CLOTHES ARE ART

I can’t worry too much now – I ordered groceries late last night and forgot they were delivered between 6 and 8 am. I also managed to cancel a few Amazon orders I’d made at the time for some skorts in size small (distress tolerance) before they shipped. My therapist at the psych ward would get how important that is, especially since I have so many skorts in a size medium im working my way back to. Amazon skorts from have gotten me through this Agoraphobic, crazy, and anorexic phase of losing myself because 1) they brought me joy, 2) I’m ready to rediscover forgotten items in my wardrobe, and 3) on my worst days, clothes were my form of art. Clothes are a form of choice and self-expression, so CLOTHES ARE ART!

P.S. This is my first hit at a REAL POEM post-psych ward. I know it’s rough, but it was a dream and I got it out. So YAY ME!!

PPS. (I’m an eternal PS’er) This photo is courtesy of Niranjan Photographs in India, where they make the fanciest art out of clothes!

My Mom & Friends (gorgeous Mom on left) making art in the 1970s.

Me making art at in a bathroom selfie at the psych ward

LIFE SUMMARY: ABRIDGED


LIFE SUMMARY: ABRIDGED

At a very young age (around aged 3), I developed an “insecure attachment style.”

Then the pattern repeated itself.

Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.

Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.

Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.
Then the pattern repeated itself.

10,000, 000 hours of therapy and “self-help practices” later,

The pattern is repeating itself.

The only difference is I’m aware The pattern is repeating itself.

It’s a GREAT START, though! It makes me feel more “sane and secure” when I’m aware History is trying to repeat itself.

The patterns color my history, but my awareness of them shows ME how strong I’ve been the entire time.

I’m not shooting for “happily ever after,” but rather “hopefully-awareful-and-content.”

STRANGER DANGER: Rusty but Still Sharp

STRANGER DANGER: THANK GOD THE BITCH IS BACK!

So I’m finally getting to use some of my inherent acerbity for the first time in my life! Like EVER!!

Lifetime asshole number 414 texts me in the wee hours Wednesday morning (4 months after NO WORD) with this:

“Hi Stranger. Thought I’d drop by and say hi. Hope you’re well.”

At 5:28 in the morning! What motive does ANYONE have at 5:28 in the morning if they’re not on their way to an airport?

So I replied with:

“We’ll, hello Stranger. Too bad I don’t talk to strangers, but I’m glad to hear you haven’t expired” (or some-such crap at the end; the main point was front-loaded)!

I’m a bit rusty, but I’m GLAD and RELIEVED to discover The Bitch is Back!!

I was SO worried I was getting too soft!

DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT

I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT TO CALL IT

It certainly wasn’t love.
It wasn’t even friendship.
I don’t know WHAT it was… perhaps some of the younger ladies could help me understand?
I think it was a giant bunch of nothing, and I have no idea why, but I allowed this giant bunch of nothing to distract me for an inordinate period of time.
However much time it was, you can rest assured the interval was inordinate!
Because he wasn’t even worthy of distraction, so clearly I must’ve been in love with myself the entire time?
In this pseudo-ship of a pseudo-shit that I just survived?
The only residual problem might be…

I think I made a TOTAL ass of myself over this Big Lug of Nothing.
As in: got the emotionally embarrassing equivalent of “sloppy wet drunk,”
highly-hormonal, possibly puberty-level of embarrassment,
Only compounded by the significance I placed on something of such Apparently-Obvious Insignificance which wasn’t Significantly Obvious to ME!

So, I don’t know, Girls and Boys:
What DO you call “IT” when you act like a Mindless, Stupid Twit over a Useless Heap of Shit these days?

LOST, GROPING, OUT OF PRACTICE, & TAKING IT OUT ON YOU!!

LOST, GROPING, & OUT OF PRACTICE

Sicko-Infant
Dally & Taunt
Lose-Her
Repeat Lose-Hers
Imp-Rob-Babble Choice
No Gel A’Tween Us
Serial Box Shredder
Serially Sadistic Lose-Hers
Discussed and Discussed until Disgusting
I guess it’s what you do when you’ve been Misplaced and Lost?
Repeatedly.
Somehow (probably by not taking chances) I got so out of practice, I think forgot all The Rules.
Thanks for putting up with me while I get reacquainted with Betrayal and Shitty Treatment!
I started to get a little high-minded for a while, there.
Whoo! It feels good to be back squarely in My Place.
It may be LAST PLACE, but I didn’t need FIRST PLACE in THIS Particular RACE!

Self-Thought

I’M SELF-THOUGHT

I’m not red,
I’m not blue.
I prefer to think for myself.
How about You?
What color do your Beliefs Adhere to?
Do you think for YOURSELF, too?
Or do you outsource thought,
Doing what Men in Suits
TELL You to Do??
I really want to know if
There’s room to grow
And meet in compromise?
At this point, for pater-protection,
I believe it the highly wise,
Circumspect and well-advised
Only Option left to do.

SEX INVESTIGATION: MOTIVES

SEX INVESTIGATION: MOTIVES

I’m definitely not an objective expert on matters of Human Sexuality, but my numerous years of being a Human myself have led me to a few observations.

Maybe I’ll address them in future posts, but I’ll confine this to the One Screaming Loudest:

I’ve discovered RECENTLY that many people seek sex for RELIEF rather than for JOY. I’ll gladly stipulate to “belatedly” on all counts of Said Observation, but it doesn’t alter its actuality, factuality, or potential falsity.

Perhaps the Truth of the Matter is blown out of perspective by first-person spectating, but I STILL don’t believe Those In Search of Sextasy can find it with people whose sole pursuit is Relief (though Relievers usually aren’t so picky).

I think two people have to at least be open to the opportunity of JOY for there to be any chance of finding any made mutually. The good news is: Once Joy is secured, Relief is easily obtained.

If this seems like Obvious Logic, trust me, there’s nothing obvious about social mores today!

I don’t know when collective standards changed, but they most certainly and drastically have! I can’t even tell you what they’ve changed INTO, and in the absence of external input, the same goes for the Accepted WHY. In fact, things are SO GRAY out there, I’M LOST!! I need help!! I’m begging for it!

Please know I’m NOT saying ALL Change is Bad. How could Change EVER be bad??!! Change-for-higher-purposes is one of humanity’s greatest virtues.

I’m just asking for a copy of The Rules.

Love & Marriage, in Terms I Can Understand

I joke about my many marriages, but the fact is I’ve only been married twice and divorced twice. You’d be surprised: some peoples’ ratios aren’t balanced.

The aberrations are the “never-married-but-legally-divorced” folks (who have fractional ratios), and the polygamists (whose ratio is multiple).

Anyway, it’s highly ironic that my highly-civilized, highly-respectable mother has been married considerably more times than I have and would only consider sharing her secret number with a potential marriage partner – but I have no doubt she’d be honest about it. She’s VERY nice. Nice people are divorced, too.

So I don’t know why she finds it appalling when I bring up her prior marriages – even to my own father, who she married when they were both 19.

Maybe the reason I feel like I’ve been married and divorced so many times is because I have? Probably also why I think about marriage in mathematical terms.

I’m sure it’s all compounded because, as a childless person, I haven’t had the opportunity to rewrite history by living vicariously through my children.

The worst part is that I feel there’s NOTHING I can’t do to convert this Giant Heap of Pain into ANYTHING to prevent MY Fate from becoming the DEFAULT Adult Fate. And what almost kills me is that I can’t do anything to prevent it from becoming the Default CHILD Fate, either.

BUILDING “PRESENCE”

BUILDING “PRESENCE”

Nowadays, young people “start growing their social media presence” instead of preparing to get into, attend, and graduate from college.

Is it tragic or smart?
It’s tragic but smart.
It’s tragic AND smart.

Life is played in multiple stages of Reality nowadays.

A CALL TO ARMS

MY TEAM OF HOMIES ARE BONY

A CALL TO ARMS

I heard Jennifer Lopez is running her mouth and talking smack about us skinny bitches again.

If those zaftig bitches don’t stop shooting trash out of BOTH sides of their pretty gobs, we’e gonna have some serious West-Side-Story hand-to-hand street action.

Any DAY now.

A Great Face is Hard to Fake


No amount of time
Can stake a claim,
Claim to waste,
Or attempt to erase
A truly great,
Greatly True face.

To even acquire One
Requires EXTRA time
To build and bake,
Then disgrace
Into The Greatest
Of All Faces.

It’s The Last Act
That’s halfway Gracious,
So Accept it,
Don’t disdain it, and

Shine for the Sake of
ALL That’s Beautiful
Inside AND Outside of
Impossibly Gorgeously
Beautiful You.

Don’t worry, I’ll gladly
Shine with you; will YOU
Be Chance-of-Shining
With US TWO, too?

The latest and greatest of
Good News globally for you is:


“You no longer have to await
The Sun’s Return
Before allowing
Your OWN baby rays
To blaze reflectly through.”

Even a shadowy glimpse of my skeleton’s bared-toothy grin darkly deflected back at me in the middle of the night has glared me into a terrified, startled response.

THE SONG OF POLITICS IN THE AIR

THE SONG OF POLITICS IN THE AIR

I thought jokes were only ever
Thought, Written, Told, or Spoken
By an Individual-Sized Person,
One accountable for its own voice.

However, Politicians have taught us
We don’t have to Make A Choice!
All of these things can occur in unison,
As well as simultaneously,
More “cacophonous” than “sonorous” or “harmonious”,
If You ask Me, or
According to the Notes I read.
I don’t know,
YOU tell ME:
Do they also sound
Too Stale to Sail
From YOUR Slide on
This Slippery Scale?

Regarding Sources of Poetic Inspiration

This could literally save lives! People Everywhere who have cried Too Much Salt in Too Many Tears won’t be forced to Blindly Search for a “Quick Fix” or a “Fast Replace” with Notorious Vexter, Visine.

At least not Anymore, they won’t.

[I told you folks SHE did it all day;
It keeps me awake and
Gives ME a Terrible Headache!

Regarding “Influencers”

NOT EASILY INFLUENCED

Am I the only one who sees the irony in the term “influencer?”

Last time I checked, adults could choose who they wanted to be influenced by: Influence was a two-way street; not some thing forced upon you.

Or maybe we always had “Influencers,” but we called them “movie stars,” “supermodels,””famous people,” and/or simply “popular.”

My greatest influencer, right wrong and probably both, is ME, and only because I’m not hungry enough to be influenced by Other People telling me what I want to eat.

As for ME, I only hope YOU influence convincingly. If I allow someone to influence me, I expect their influence to be complete.

A Dinosaur Among Us

Thanks to barneydew.com for the photo

TALES OF A DINOSAUR

Who the hell do I think I am?
No one cares what I say on Instagram,
Facebook is too fake to face,
And they treat me like a
Stupid boob on YouTube.

I honestly think it comes down to Matters Of Age,
And what Matters most these days
Is a youthful, pretty face.

The former offends me,
The latter flatters me.
I guess 50% of Both
Is Good Enough for me.

EMPTY JESTERS, EMPTY GESTURES

AN EMPTY JESTER
FULL OF EMPTY GESTURES

I’m very verbally quick, but I’m even more mentally quick.

Sadly, most of my Genius is often
Lost in translation.

PS. Sometimes I write things which seem so “already obvious,” I’m sure they must be bad Dad Jokes as old as Methuselah.

You’ll have to trust me when I say they jest occurred to me today.