One of the hardest things

You can't let miserable people make you miserable. It's harder than it sounds.

Post and delete

I don't think I'll ever tell the whole story here.

Sleepless in Berkeley

If theoretically you decide to smoke pot and take Ambien, then expect some theoretical bullshit to blow up your head. Theoretically speaking, of course.

Love stories

They come in all stripes, don't they?

My One and Only Love

I used to cry when I heard this song. That was before Adam and I were together. The love I felt for him then was without compare. So it remains.

Gold Club

Five-dollar chicken buffet and titties. We love it.

Part of a writing prompt

Surprise letter. Give me 500 words.

I didn’t really have to ask how she got my email address. It’s not hard. Damn thing is all over the web because I put it there. When you’re a real-estate agent, you want people to be able to contact you. So I put it out, and put it out, and the crumbs I got back I ate like I was starving.

GREETINGS. That was the subject line from a name I didn’t recognize. Not exactly unusual. In my line of work you get a lot of strangers crossing your threshold in every way. I wasn’t always comfortable with it, the meet-and-greet, the hail-fellow-well-met. I’d considered switching careers, but to what? I was born to do this, that’s what my father kept telling me. Then again, he was the Real Estate Duke of Santa Barbara. Me, I couldn’t even sell in Goleta. That was why I was 29, pressing up hard against 30, and still living in their back cottage. Yes, I know what they say about Millennials. I didn’t want to be that Millennial.

They say that a character has to want something. Ground them in that desire. That’s what makes a character believable. I’m here to tell you that’s bullshit. And I’ll tell you another thing: It’s way worse not to want something than to want it with everything that is you. It’s way worse to press your nose against that glass, looking in on life’s snow globe. How do you like that metaphor?

Yeah. Me neither.

I was sitting at Santa Barbara Roasting Company when the message showed up. Jack Johnson was playing on the stereo because Jack Johnson always plays on the stereo around here. He was in my major at UC Santa Barbara, film studies. I don’t remember much about him other than he always had a guitar. And look at him now. That’s where wanting gets you.

Right before it landed, I was watching a family. They all seemed to be doing work of some sort: three of them gathered around one table, mom and dad and younger brother, and then older sister off to the side with her turquoise-cased Mac Air. I was thinking about Steffy. Steffy, who had my heart whether or not she was interested in keeping it. Steffy, who took my love until it bored her and then wouldn’t let me give it to her any more.

Steffy, who was getting married the following week. I didn’t know that because she told me, God knows. Girl practically put an emotional restraining order on me when we broke up. She wouldn’t even give me her forwarding address when she moved out. Just blocked me on email, and phone, and Facebook and Twitter and probably even on sites that I wasn’t even on. Pinterest. Can you even block someone on Pinterest? If you could, then I’m sure she did.

Times my body screamed for her. Times my mind wrapped itself around thin air, talked to no one but itself. Times I reached out and touched thin air, nothing less and certainly nothing more.

Morning bon mots

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The runaway

I ran away from home tonight.

I'll go back.

Eventually.

Too early

I have this thing where if someone gets too close, I run the risk of shutting down and pushing them aside. It's a protective mechanism and it's not particularly original. I'm just really aware of it these days.

I'm sure I could say more. I just don't want to.

Batter up

Memory

The morning after the first time I ever smoked weed, sitting in a car in Isla Vista, just listening to this song with my friend Kevin. Simple, but not.

My Jack

Man

She who dumb enough to play with fire should know better. Or something of that ilk.

Christopher Robin

CHRISTOPHER: But that tree was in Sussex, not London!

POOH: I suppose it’s where it needs to be.

Another one I'll probably delete

And yet you and I fit like clockwork. We exist in some vacuum. 

Abortion rights

What the fuck is happening here? How is Roe v. Wade under fire? I love my child more than anything and yet the reason I can be a good parent is because I fucking wanted him. Jesus Christ, how hard is that to understand?

Keep your laws off my body and I'll do the same for you.

Written just now

The tears came like a monsoon to a desert. I leaned over my discount office chair with its frayed seat and howled in pure, evil silence. It wasn’t just the loss of him. It was the loss of possibility. It was a violation of innocence. It was a crossing-out of every promise ever made to me, not simply by him but throughout my life. 

Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve

Joni Mitchell, "A Case of You"

I know I've posted this before, but fuck it:

Just before our love got lost you said
I am as constant as a northern star and I said,
Constantly in the darkness
Where's that at?
If you want me I'll be in the bar

On the back of a cartoon coaster
In the blue TV screen light
I drew a map of Canada
Oh Canada
With your face sketched on it twice

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter
And so sweet oh
I could drink a case of you darling and I would
Still be on my feet
Oh I would still be on my feet

Oh I am a lonely painter
I live in a box of paints
I'm frightened by the devil
And I'm drawn to those ones that ain't afraid
I remember that time that you told me, you said
"Love is touching souls"
Surely you touched mine 'cause
Part of you pours out of me
In these lines from time to time

Oh you are in my blood like holy wine
You taste so bitter
And so sweet oh
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

I met a woman
She had a mouth like yours, she knew your life
She knew your devils and your deeds and she said
"Go to him
stay with him if you can
But be prepared to bleed"

Oh but you are in my blood you're my holy wine
You're so bitter
bitter and so sweet oh
I could drink a case of you darling
Still I'd be on my feet
I would still be on my feet

Let's put it this way

When you decide to be connected with someone again after a long and turbulent period, there are things you can't and shouldn't say publicly. I'm still writing what I'm writing, but for once I decided to take it offline.

Locking down

I'm in the process of deleting many of these posts.

I have my reasons.

Comal

They were way happier than they look here, but I do like the contemplative nature of this shot.