Seriously impressed

The King Blues - Itch "Five Bottles of Shampoo" from Thomas Hole on Vimeo.
I found this and had to share it.

Well, my therapist says…

“No pronouns.” She says, “Here we name the chains on your limbs and the shards in your gut. Leave the theys and the its at the door. Tell me about the scars on your arms and the empty prescriptions in your medicine cabinet.”
I had nothing better to do so I shrugged my shoulders and spoke of nightmares and coming apart at the seams.
What I didn’t tell her is that I’ve been here before. There is nothing new to be found in the introspection or tears and that the only name I can give is on the folder she carried when she walked in the door.

Scars we choose

Your favorite thing about summer is all the free outdoor concerts, or so you tell me over coffee as we huddle in the café trying to recover from the night before. Not for the music of course, because the really good ones cost money; and nothing sounds as good outdoors, the acoustics are all crap to your ears with that perfect pitch. You like the fact that it’s warm enough at one in the morning to run around in shorts and tank tops, and you love the energy. I laughed at how loud you cheered when the first notes of ‘Baba O’Riley’ played over the speakers, and how your fingers found keys in the air so you could play along. We’re still young enough that enfolded in the night is an invitation, and you were lost to its call.

There was a woman I saw one day who had a piano tattooed on her side, all eighty eight keys. From the outside of her knee to under her breast. My first thought was of pain; because surely something so large and there must have hurt. What kind of dedication would it take to imprint  your body so? I don't know it, my skin only carries marks from falling and sharp edges. Then I wondered if she had a favourite song and if all her lovers knew how to play it.

reasons good enough for me

I smoke because I think it goes well with the cyanide in my appleseeds.

Soulmates?

(From:here)

Is it crazy that I think some day I'll look up into a strangers eyes and the empty parts of my soul will scream, "Where have you been?!" even though the answer won't really matter? 

It's hard to explain to friends when they try to set me up on dates or get me to ask someone to dance. 

How do I tell them I'm waiting for something; that I wouldn't know how to describe, even if I had more than a vague notion of what it was? I feel that it'll be beyond description even when I have it in the palm of my hands. 

I'm absolutely sure that I will know it when I find it though. 

If that isn't hard enough how do I tell them that I love all the dating and the dancing, but it's awkward at the end of the night when I try to explain to the poor soul I'm with that; yes it's been fun and meeting again would be lovely, but I'm really just passing time until the lightning strikes, so I'll have to decline? 

Because I don't want to be the jackass who goes around leading people on and breaking hearts because signals got crossed; once was enough of that, thank you.

(From: here)

Textile Messaging: Things I would buy if I had money and closet space

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Not a morning person

I am bad at waking up (ask anyone), but I love the dawn.

When I am the only person in the world, and there is time yet to do what needs to be done

Like No One is Watching

(From:here)

Be it your lover, bff from second grade, the sibling you never had, or maybe one you do. I think the best friend you will ever have is the one who will dance with you whenever they get the chance. The one who willing whirls around the living room every time your favorite song comes on the radio, who will get dressed up to take you clubbing on Saturday nights, or fumble through the ballroom dancing classes that you signed up for on a whim (with only a couple complaints).

(From: here)

Dancing with them you can be close without talking, there's something to do that doesn’t involve over-processing when you don't have to. The best thing about finding someone with whom words aren't necessary is that you figure which words actually mean something. Or, maybe when you aren't talking, when every word that comes out of your mouths just angers and hurts, that's ok. Just shut your yap and turn on some music. Focus on moving together rather than whatever was that started the argument. It's a timeout without the loneliness of separate corners.

(From: here)

You can learn all sorts of things about a person when you dance with them. Any control freak tendencies with jump right to the fore, and you quickly figure out whether you love this person enough to let them get away with it or not. I also find that if some one is willing to look goofy (and know it) in the name of fun on the dance floor then they'll have a good sense of humor about everything else in life too.

I'm not saying that you can't have great friends who don't dance. I'm also not saying that you need to run out right now and find a twinkle toes or your life will never be complete. Just that if you do have one then maybe consider adding a few words to your speech next Thanksgiving.

Snowfall

I sit, and listen, to the snowfall.

I can still see you sitting there;

the soft curve of your smile,

the knees on which you rest you head,

the sparkle in your eyes

(tears that won't ever leave that deep secret place

you hide them in).

I will never know

what you were thinking,

but I will always wonder.

What could have made you

want to cry,

each time the winter rolls around,

and there are nights when it snows.

(From:here)

My dreams on fire

I had a dream once as I laid on the couch.

I reached up and following the tips of my fingers,

fire sprung;

carving lines in the air,

which remained until I finished then went to perch on the wall waiting to see what I would do next.

If it hadn't been a dream I would have worried for the building and the air being stolen from my lungs.

Thankfully it was,

and I responded in the normal nonsensical fashion and took it in stride;

it was nothing but one of those things,

that sometimes happens to happen,

on occasion.

I lay there expectant and fascinated.

Stories I'd been trying to tell my entire life poured from me with simple wrist flicks.

There were words,

so beautiful they have never been spoken;

pictures,

and feelings became transposed into light.

After the stories ended out came the memories,

then the secrets,

then all things I had forgotten.

Any emotion or moment that ever pressed my heart flew out
and shone for the whole world to see.

With every recollection or flight of fancy that left me I grew light,

a child's balloon released from small fingers in a moment of distraction.

Each piece of space that burned
left me that much more hollow until my soul became clear.

Then, just as I felt the fire might spread
from my fingertips to consume the shell of what remained of me,

I awoke.

Ummm, hi

I happen to have some time on my hands and too many thoughts in my head. From what I've seen blogging is the popular solution to both issues and being the suggestable creature I am: here I am giving it a shot.