hearts of space

my heart is running on empty. my love is cheap. my legs are open. i seek no sleep. my head is restless and idle. i cannot weep. i feel that the feeling is going, i'm falling asleep. my love is on pins and needles. it's a bloody pile. it's just a mess. i haven't any patience. i long for no one. i want only a dangling carrot. give it to me and i'll run away. no, i'm lying. i won't stop running. i want to trust. i want to be hurt again. fuck me up. finger my soul. make my cheeks glow. here i need to be alone. surrounded. seal me in tight. make me face my insides. make me taste myself. make it so that i'm okay being alone. time wash over me. how did i get here? there was a series of steps. i was running. i was running. how do i stop? how do i face it? how do i attack it? everything is so fucking wrong. why am i not living the life that i want? it's all about me. forget you. i'll listen to you next week, maybe. i'm never sure of anything. the way i figure it that makes me sane. or maybe on the safer side of fucked. once you think you got it all spelled out, and you're connecting the dots, well, your fucked. your in your own comfortably fucked up palace. you've got your servants and your masters. you seek out something perfect, something ideal and you are only about to fail. you seek out your spot, your niche, your little crevices in this silly suicide temple. can't figure it out? can't make it work? good. life's got to hold some sort of mystery. just like people. otherwise, you find everything a whole lot more beige. a whole lot more blah, blah. a whole lot more of what you don't want, mixed in with what you might want. shit, deciding has always been the hardest part. or was it overcoming my laziness? i am an expert procrastinator. that is one freaking thing that i have mastered. i need to wake up. i need to push the haze aside. i need to spread apart something other than my legs. let my brain do some exploring. let it have it's way with me. cut everyone off. everyone, including my carnal self. no more sex for you. accomplish something, and i'll let you get fucked. take away my drug. take away my passion for running. fuck. i'm fucked. i feel like i'm at the summit and it's time to go back down. climbing down is only easy if your falling.

Did you see the last Extreme Home Makeover? and Ranting.

Things like this make me cry like hell.

I wonder should I stay in for another 6 years. I already have 7 under my belt. Why not do the whole retirement thing? What do I have to lose? Any way during this one episode... well, they built this veterans meeting building on a reservation. They built a home for the Piestewa family.

This is the story -

"When PFC Lori Piestewa was in Iraq, she told her roommate and best friend, PFC Jessica Lynch, that her dream was to return to her home in Tuba City, Arizona and build her parents a house to which they could retire. But in March 2003, Lori lost her life, becoming the first American woman killed in the Iraq war. Lori died while trying to save the lives of her friends, Jessica Lynch and Shoshannah Johnson, as she navigated her Humvee through gunfire and debris when it was hit by a rocket-propelled grenade.

Lori is also believed to be the first Native American woman to die in a foreign war. She was a true warrior spirit who fought and died for her country. The 23-year-old divorced mother left behind two young children, Brandon and Carla Whiterock, who are six and five years old, respectively, and are being cared for by Lori's parents, Percy and Terry Piestewa. Currently the family lives in a rented 1200 square-foot mobile home on a reservation in Tuba City, Arizona.

Percy, a junior high school administrative assistant and his wife, Terry, who works as a maintenance worker at the same junior high school, would like to move to Flagstaff, where they can be closer to family. Now, with help from neighboring tribes, as well as the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition design team, the Piestewas will be able to raise their grandchildren in a new home. They will also have a proper place to put all of the many mementos that they've received from people all over the world who wanted to honor their fallen heroine daughter.

Lori has received many posthumous honors, including being promoted from Private First Class to Specialist First Class by the U.S. Army. Last Memorial Day she was remembered with rose petals in a ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery, and she was honored on September 21, 2004 at the opening ceremony of the Smithsonian National Museum of the American Indian in Washington, DC."

I think it's fucked up that they promote people after they are dead. What the fuck is that?
Anyway, they also built this beautiful building for the Veterans. They were all crying and appreciative. It was gut wrenching for me.

So - I have also been struggling with this life altering decision - namely, should I reenlist? Honestly, and I don't know what you believe, but I think that everyone in the nation should work for it in some way for at least 2 years. Either, you do the military thing, or you do the -within our borders- AmeriCorps thing or something to that affect.

Of course, that is just my humble taxpaying opinion. By the way this is all JUST my humble opinion. Honestly, we are the modern day Rome; the only direction we can go is down. Thank goodness, we have the “leader” we have. >As I chuckle and cry on the inside< Of course he’s just a figurehead that gets to take blame for a very long list of fucked up shit. Let’s see our military is spread extremely thin, I can’t even get into the war. The powers that be have fucked over our military (so that, our “volunteer military” doesn’t want to volunteer anymore). The whole environment thing, well, that’s fucked. It’s just not “profitable”. I could seriously go on forever about this shit.

So, here I am wondering, how can I help in a country that is so fucked up? Don’t get me wrong; I think it’s an amazing place. I love America, and I hate it. I hate so much of our history. We fucked up the Native American’s, we thoroughly enjoyed slavery, we dropped the bomb, and this is just the beginning. We, and I mean American’s (to include myself) have such a narrow view of what is actually going on. That and the whole attitude that we are all freaking entitled to whatever the hell we want. Take it if you want it. It’s no wonder that everyone else on the planet pretty much hates us. It’s all about me. Me. Me. Me. Me. Fuck everyone else. So, what do I do? Do what you want to do, right?

Do whatever the fuck you want. So, go into graphic design, or reenlist and go into the medical field. We are all so selfish. I am so selfish. I don’t want to choose the easy option this time. I don’t want to think that way anymore. If it’s going to work, it’s going to take work. I’m not talking the Atkins’ Diet here. I’m not talking the easy road. I need to find my path, whether or not it’s straight up hill on my knees.

Shit what the fuck was I talking about?

Out.

turbo slut

I have lots of boyfriends. That’s what I call the guys I’m either interested in, or sleeping with. Honestly, I’ve turned into what my best friend has called a turbo-slut. I have had sex with more people during this one month of my life than in the last few years to be completely honest.

Usually, I’m having lots of sex with one man. I usually have insisted that sex be kept up to at least once a day. In my freaking dreams. I have some issues with sex. I’m sure has become obvious or has been obvious to anyone that even remotely knows me. Some would shallowly call me a nympho. I’m not sure that fits. I won't do just anything just to get some.

Some misinterpret my easily talking about sex, as a constant desire for it. This is generally what I do when uncomfortable. Sometimes, I talk about it blatantly for shock value. As a way of saying fuck you and your conservative tight ass, at least I can say what is on my mind. Yeah, I have some angst.

I just let it all out. I hardly filter anything. Sometimes, I can be hurtfully honest. Sometimes I’m refreshingly honest. Usually, though, I’m just scaring off the wimps. Scaring off the kids that can't handle whatever is inside of me. Something I consider ugly? If you don't know me - then I will only try to gain your approval, and not actually show you anything about me, except of course, what I think you want to see. It’s pretty fucking sad, I know.

I achieved these talents by leading a double life during the whole Jehovah Witness phase of my life. My best friend, Stephanie, asked me if I had any sales experience... I said does 16 years of being a Jehovah’s Witness count for anything. How about leading a double life for at least 6 years before I got out of it. Thank god I got out at 16.

I am completely over the whole organized religion bit. I don't necessarily buy the fucking bible. I’m not sure what is there, I think there is something, just don't really know what. I have my own spirituality and all, I just won't - let me repeat- won't buy into the church culture just to attain some sort of community, when I have so many differing beliefs. The first of which being, I like having independent thoughts. Anyway, enough about that. Lets just say I have a lot of guilt on my shoulders about a lot of things.

To add to that laundry list, sex with people that I don't love, or even have any emotional connection with, I feel pretty guilty about. However, the more I do it, the easier it is.

So basically, the only guy that I have had, shall we say, several sexual encounters with, is my cop boyfriend. He’s older, around 32 I think. He’s got two kids that I haven't met. Two kids, daughter age 12, son age 10 that I don't think I’ll ever meet. See, the cop and I, we are two people who really aren't ready for a relationship, however enjoy each other’s company, and of course there is the sex. We have fun together, laugh, fuck, and it's all dangerous and illegal. He’s also my direct superior in the military. So, you can imagine how much I got off on that, and vice versa. I’m also still technically married. But, since he (the ex-fuck face husband) is fucking other girls or girl... it's free range.

Honestly, I wonder if he cheated on me. I doubt anything physical, but emotional, yeah. Anyway, that shit just makes me angry.

Back to the cop. honestly, until recently, the sex really hasn't cut it. I was more attracted to him and his personality, and that shiny new suit everyone wears when they first date someone. Unfortunately, I was fooled again. What sucked was that I actually did feel something for the guy. And it turns out, this relationship, just like my fucked up marriage, is just about sex. Based on sex. This is not what I really want. I enjoy sleeping next to him. I enjoy the sex, now, finally. I think he must have been incredibly nervous before. We’ve been screwing for a few months now. He’s finally given me my second or third orgasm in that span of time... but trust me the sex is much better.

We have discussed being exclusive. He said that he wasn't going to be with anyone else. He doesn't have the desire to be with anyone else. He also said that he understands that I need to explore, and he doesn't have a problem with me sleeping with other people. At least that is what I gleaned from the whole fucked up conversation. So, when he's away, which is most of the time, I play. Meaning, I sleep with my ex, I have a threesome, I sleep with someone I’ve just met... etcetera. Those things are all fun, only, I feel like I’m doing wrong by him. Even though, all he wants from me, and he's pretty much expressed this to me openly, is sex. "We can get to know each other." I think that we have already fucked it up. There have been some moments where, I thought, okay, I could do this. There have been some moments where we have been extremely intimate, not sexual, intimate. Only, those moments are foreshadowed with the premature sex thing. And I’m always wondering if I’m being tricked.

Fuck. I need to go to bed. I wish I could read minds, find out whether or not he really liked me, so far I think that I’m just his fuck buddy. He hasn't shown any sign of getting closer to me. When I ask him for time, he doesn't have it, or doesn’t think to make some for me. Everything is when it's convenient for him. I know that I should just walk away. He doesn't care for me anyhow. Why get attached? Just like with the ex-fuck face husband. I had to walk away, before being ripped apart.

I’m such a fucking confessional little girl. It’ll be the death of me.

emails.

starting again. and again. and again. and are the drugs still actually working? I don't know I feel less now. Or maybe it's that I care less. Fuck, I'm not any kind of specialist.

yeah.. it's like i don't know if it's me or my sexuality.. that should be a song lyric..
don't know if it's me
or my sexuality...

pinback ... we ran for pinback.. drunkish.

yeah.. when i get rich and bored ... i'm going to do the whole thing .. splooshing .. i think it's called where you put food all over you and sit on cakes naked.. yeah.. i could see how that would be fun!

it sucks to be right. it sucks to be wrong.

I didn’t want it to be true. I didn’t want all of the terrible things that I thought about him to be real. I didn’t want him to be so transparent. I can see his ugly insides so easily. He remains emotionless. He cares only for his ego, his stupid fucking ego. It’s crazy to be jealous of something so abstract. To be hurt by someone’s defensive nature.

I never wanted to change him. I don’t think that that is what a relationship is about. I think it’s about seeing each other’s qualities and weaknesses and making them stronger. Two are stronger than one. Time like layers makes weak relationships fail and strong relationships stronger. The same is true of distance, of children. We could hardly come close to strong. We didn’t have the foundation of a relationship. We were never friends. We never will be. He is the only serious relationship that I’ve had where that was true. The only one I didn’t have a friendship with first. Why attempt one ever? I don’t want to be hurt by him any longer. I’m pulling the tooth. I should have done it long ago.

No more boys. No more men to cloud and hide what I truly fear. What is it that I’m hiding from? What is it that I’m running from? All my life I’ve been running. Always seeking distraction. Well, it’s time to look myself in the head, the heart, and the soul. It’s time to figure it out. Like Daddy always said… “There’s nothing to it, but to do it.”