If we were in one of those cheesy romance films, right now-when I'm thinking (and my voice-over is expressing) about how you and I are truly connected- you'd knock on my door and I'd open it dramatically. You'd burst through it as we smiled at each other and amidst the closing of the door, the rushing embrace in each others' arms, and the fireworks as our lips locked, the music would swell (but of course, not predictable, 'indie film' music-something REAL) and we'd realize that everything we were searching for, everything our hearts yearned for yet either shut ourselves off to or never really saw glimpses into, was right here-right between you and I. And it wouldn't be 'happily ever after'--it'd be better. It'd be 'reality ever after'- the way it should be. Two truly fucked-up people with hearts of stone and ice falling for each other and allowing ourselves to fall apart within one another.


closer to fine.

Dan: And you left him, just like that?
Alice: It's the only way to leave. "I don't love you anymore. Goodbye."
Dan: Supposing you do still love them?
Alice: You don't leave.
Dan: You've never left someone you still love?
Alice: Nope.



a fire that's just waiting for fuel

DISCLAIMER: This is a rant. My mind is on overdrive and I've had an insane weekend so it's just verbal defecation all over the paper (screen?). Don't take it so seriously that you start a riot or cry or get upset with me or hate me. It's just a blog. Or do-at this point, I'm thisclose to not really caring.


Sometimes I wonder why the fuck people don't just CHILL out. Things happen, sometimes life gets in the way of...life. Sometimes people get in the way of life and sometimes life and/or people get in the way of work. However it happens, sometimes the shit just hits the proverbial fan (or nearly hits it) and what can you do? You just roll with it.

The older I get and the more I experience, the more indifferent I become about certain things and the quicker I am to say 'fuck it' as a response (not always verbalized, however) to certain situations. I used to stress and really contemplate how specific actions affected others until I realized that in some instances it really DOESN'T matter. Why? Because in certain situations you have to step back and see that were the tables turned, the other party (or parties) wouldn't give a shit what YOUR reaction or feelings were. It is good to consider the way your behavior will affect others...in most situations. But there are plenty of times where you have to put your self-interest and/or survival before that of others.

I've always had an unexplainable but definite assurance within myself that I'd be successful, whatever I chose to do. I've gone through my life trying my best to LIVE it, and though I've made plenty of mistakes, I've also made a helluva lot of great memories and learned a shitload of lessons I wouldn't have otherwise. I've also become much stronger in my convictions about my future. I just know things will work out. If you merely read that sentence, it may appear idealistic or naive-make no mistake--I don't expect things to be handed to me or just come my way with no effort on my part. What it really is is a deep-rooted sense of 'what lies beyond', so to speak. Spiritually, I have a great deal of faith in life and the universe and karma. In so, I also have a lot of faith in my abilities and talents. I know how and where I work best and what my strengths as well as my weaknesses are. So I've never stressed about 'getting a degree' or 'starting a career' or any of that. I don't know...I just know everything'll work out fine. I see life as a ride, and you have to make the most of that ride considering how unpredictable it can be. Why waste time planning and plotting and mapping everything out, only to hit a curve you never could've predicted and crash and have to start all over? As long as you know your options and limits, the trivialities matter little.

But I digress.

I now have very little patience for "The Man" and conformity and regulations. I'm no fool-I know there are times when one has to adhere to certain social or occupational expectations. However, I've never, ever hung my life or my well-being on a job or a career or school. One reason I've been drawn to jobs that are under the table or don't require schedules is because I refuse to let a J-O-B run my life. Why on earth would you waste hours and hours and tears and sweat on something that makes you miserable and sticks it to you every time you look away? I'm not going to ask permission to live my life. I'm not going to apologize for caring more about LIVING and experiencing and grabbing the reins of opportunity when it rides by. I'm an asset to whatever I put 100% into or whatever I commit to regarding occupations. But I'm not naive-I'm just as replaceable as the next guy. There's always someone above you as well as below you. I can give my best and be responsible and reliable and all the little cookie-cutter 'boxes' you want. But if the chance to better myself in some way comes by, I'm not gonna stand there and watch it catch the next person because I'm being guilt-tripped into being a good 'employee'. Guess what? I'll eventually move on and so will you. You'll get the next person to fill my shoes and I'm sure they'll be every bit the model employee you desire. Meanwhile, I'll be out living my fucking life and enjoying the fact that my head isn't stuck up the ass of a company that won't give two shits about me in ten years. Sounds harsh, but it's true. How horribly tragic is it if one of your employees misses a shift? Does life come to a screeching halt? Does your business suddenly hit rock bottom? Is it like in movies, when the silence hits and all movement freezes, and you can hear a pin drop? NO. It's not. It keeps fucking going because it's not that big of a deal. The only reason these managerial guilt trips work on people is because people fear authority and think that Joe Manager was never in their shoes; never a menial employee himself. People tremble and sweat over upsetting 'the boss' when they just need to CHILL the fuck out. It's a god damn JOB, okay? Move on. Get over it. Everyone will be fine if you're not there or if you fucked up in some trivial way. Giving in to hierarchical pressure just perpetuates the cycle of The Man fistfucking all of middle America. Stand up for the things that matter to you. If you get fired over it, hey--let me clue you in on a tiny little fact: there are tons of jobs in this country. Have a little faith in yourself and get a new job. At least you got fired for having balls and sticking to your guns rather than pulling a Milton and retreating to the fucking basement.

rant /over.


Stop chasing shadows; just enjoy the ride

I haven't blogged in awhile because I've:
A. Been surprisingly busy
B. Had nothing witty, relevant, philosophical or interesting to write.
C. Haven't had anything terribly exciting or horrible occur since my last post.

I'm working three jobs now, which is equally awesome and exhausting. I work the door at my club on occasion and I do two (soon to be three) days at the tattoo shop as the shop girl. It's all a nice change of pace, though. I like to stay busy, and right now I'll take any fun source of supplemental income that comes my way. I wanted a second job for awhile (dancing five days a week gets boring, believe it or not), but I had the requirements that it be in a creative environment of some sort (music, art, etc.) and that my ink and piercings wouldn't be issues. Obviously both of the new situations are appropriate. Thank god for my pets, though, because if it weren't for them needing me home to spend time and care for them I'd probably never see my apartment. I'd sleep and eat and shit here and that'd be about it. My pets are my family, though, and knowing they depend on me keeps me from working too much and keeps me returning to the solace of my home-the one place I can regroup and re-center myself.

Working at the tattoo shop has many benefits, one of which is the easy access to great artists with time to do work on me. This is proving to be both a curse and a blessing-I'm able to get some pieces changed and/or finished that had been in the works for awhile, but I'm also actually getting the ball rolling on starting new pieces, which just encourages the ink addiction. I guess if it's my only real addiction I'm doing pretty well, though.

Having a piercer on site also means that my ears are now gauged to 2G in the second hole and 4G in the first. I am going to stop at 0 in my second, I swear. Ha ha..I said I'd stop at 4 a few months ago but if you know me at all you know the whole "plan for the future and stay the course" thing doesn't really work for me. I mean, I also said I'd never get any ink on my chest or collarbone and I've got my bee there now (and I'm planning a small script piece probably for the opposite side). What can I say..I take things by the moment. Who's to say I won't get hit by a truck tomorrow? Would I lie on an operating table, gasping my last breaths, thinking about what I wished I'd done? I try my damnedest every day to make sure the answer to that is 'no.'

I'm going to keep this short and simple because at the moment it's merely a status update, and I hate being boring. Plus, I have a glass of wine and a loaded bowl to which I must attend. ;)



new 06.09.09

"pink sky at night"

our lips are dancing to some silent tune
and your fingers light my skin afire
i see the planet of you in the face of the moon
i see no sanctuary in sight from my desire
i've been told my heart is like the breeze-
it shifts and moves in a moment's time
but you-you satisfy some secret need
i'd abandon the breeze if you were mine
at times i don't know if i have rested
we part, and still i taste you on my lips
i do know this: my interest is vested
and now and then i feel my facade slip
ancient walls come crumbling down
my foundation relaxes at your smile
i'll give you me, bare and unbound
for the assurance you'll stay around awhile
i'm used to thinking you're out of my league
and sailing in the oceans of your eyes
now i'm seeing possibilities
seeing my little lonely boat capsize
and you'll explore the wreckage of me with your hands
you'll search my seas for signs of life
tell me you'll lay aside your maps and plans
and take me in, night after night.

© inkedcupcake@gmail.com 2009


the air was smoking and the streets were dry

"i'm not hurting anyone 

i'm just telling my truth 

and if there if there is something wrong 

then maybe there's something wrong with you.."


Ever have those days (or weeks) where you have plenty of thoughts running rampant in your mind, and yet you bring pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) and suddenly everything seems elementary and irrelevant? Yeah, that's where I'm at right now.

There's a lot going on at the moment, and a lot has occurred since my last post. I just don't know where to start or how to start or even IF I should start in some cases.


Sometimes I want to crawl out of my skin and escape myself. I want to be anywhere but where I am, not just physically but emotionally and figuratively. My life is pretty good right now, yet I'm still a little melancholy, and everything is still in shades of grey. 

"In a coffee shop in a city

which is every coffee shop in every city

on a day which is every day.."

I'm trying so hard to get all my emotions and thoughts out on 'paper' and I keep hitting walls. I've been tweeting in lyrics all day because I can't find eloquent enough statements to express what's waging war in my mind. I hear in songs and I see faces in sheet music. My heart pulses to the drums of a favorite song and when my eyes well up with tears, the salt tastes like a tragic ballad on my tongue. 

How can someone feel so happy and so fulfilled and at the same time so empty and monochrome? I'd say it's the nature of things, but everyone is not this way. I find it interesting (coincidental? no..) that two of my favorite musicians both have songs I love with the word 'grey' in them and used in the same context (Ani's "Grey" and DMB's "Grey Street"). 

Maybe I put my stock in the wrong things. I yearn for a kiss or a declaration of infatuation from someone who appears indifferent about my existence. I expect people completely non-spiritual to understand what I mean when I say I feel like my spirit is hazy and flickering. I try to perpetuate the art of an occupation that has long since lost any artistic value.

"i just wish i knew who you were

i wish you'd make yourself known

probably you don't know i'm her

the woman you want to call home.."


So it goes: I light another cigarette, take a swig of wine. I look around the room, watch the candles dance to some melody I've yet to hear. And I want to go to bed and start anew tomorrow as much as I want to stay up and let the sunrise take my breath away.




he spoke in questions
for which he desired no answers
as i read his skin
traveled the maps of his life
his tongue was hungry
a hunger beyond lust
eyes that studied me, searched
for a window, a wound
unaware that this was new
his energy- electric and afire
until he fixed his gaze on me
the world slowed
through the smoke, the haze
into the mirror and back again
from the glare of the lights
to the glisten of sweat
he was larger than life
but this was not his truth
his eyes spoke in sonnets
of what he never uttered
searched, yearned
for someone to understand
a hunger no mortal thing can sate.

© 2009, inkedcupcake@gmail.com