Jaded Wife

If you won't pull your weight a woman will carry you. But even superwoman gets tired sometimes. But I am a wife and NOT superwoman. I'm not a hero to anyone but my kids. We need to get something straight. I've been made jaded. To all you who don't know what jaded means, here's a link for you http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/jaded.

Now here's the deal. I won't pick your shit up anymore. Keep your damn kisses to yourself. You don't want to appologize? Fine, don't! But don't expect me to care anymore. I won't kiss your booboos. I won't fix your fuck ups. I'm sick and damn tired.

Husbands, think before you mistreat your wives. You don't want a jaded wife too.

A New Day

What a long month. What a long year. So many things have

happened in a decade. Looking back is hard. While everyone

else makes New Year resolutions I just look back. I do not

make resolutions because I always find myself breaking them

immediately and feeling like such a looser. Just one more

reason to get down on myself, so I stopped that long ago.

Now I just look back and learn from all the things that have

happened over the years. It's hard to realize that you are

not the person you had hoped you would be. Reliving the

hard moments and knowing that you fucked up. I have a

strange way of remembering. I can see vivid images in

my head flicking by like a slide show. You see yourself in

a different light, from a different angle. It's like a slap in

the face. But it's good for me to see the reality of everything,

no matter how much it hurts.

Then, after taking a ride through my memories I look on into

the first light of a new year, a new day, another chance to

dance the dance.

Homeless Souls

Flitting about, never settling, never quite belonging. Homeless souls. Forever searching for that one place where they connect. Fit. Waiting patiently for that tiny click. They're out there, everywhere. I'm willing to bet you may even know at least one. There's always just something about them. They're like magnets attracting some while repelling others.

I have never felt like I quite belonged anywhere. When I was a kid I always felt like I was in a glass box. I could look out at the people around me and they could look in, but we could never touch. I felt so separated, so isolated. Where I lived only magnified the horrible isolation that I felt. I was a freak, an outcast, an anomaly. I learned to deal with it. I realized however, that it wasn't like that everywhere. Elsewhere I was able to live in peace with my strange problem. I felt, and still feel, like maybe I wasn't supposed to be born in Helena Arkansas.

Slowly as I became comfortable in my own skin, different became special. And I began to see the others like me all around. I started noticing the magnetic effect that we had and I began to understand things better. And even though I have come to know that I'm a homeless soul I still hold out hope that one day I might be able to find where I belong and finally rest.

Humanity Through the Eyes of a Cashier

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The bright lights and constant noise is enough to drive even the most grounded person insane. First time cashiers have nightmares about checking all night long.

. . .beep. . .beep. . .beep. . .

Cashiers see and hear a lot. You ask a seasoned cashier what would surprise them and they'd likely laugh at you. Being a cashier will make you strong. . .or break you.

. . .beep. . .beep. . .beep. . .

Having been a cashier since before I could reach the register without a stool, I'm one of those who would laugh at you. I've seen and heard things that sometimes eat me up inside and even fewer times, brightens my day.

. . .beep. . .beep. . .beep. . .

People spend more time at grocery stores than most other places. You see more kinds of people in a grocery store than anywhere else, because while not everyone has to clothes shop or buy games and toys, everyone has to eat. Maybe my veiw is skewed and biased but I like to believe that most of what I glean from my job is mostly observation. This is humanity through the eyes of a cashier.

. . .beep. . .beep. . .beep. . .

I often times wonder why people would treat others as though they are disgusting animials just because they are in a service feild. I've been treated like I was worse than a soaking wet mut with rabies before, for no reason. Yeah, maybe they had a bad day but that's no excuse for taking it out on perfectly innocent strangers. Sometimes I think that at least one year in a service field should be required for everyone. Being treated like that might just change some people's heinous behavior. But as much as I'd hope this, I am left doubting it more strongly. Why is it that I doubt the ability of the general population of humanity to learn from their experiences? Because I've seen it, and it makes me very sad.

I'm also left wondering why you would walk into anywhere and trash the place. I've seen customers, young and old, stash things that they've descided they didn't want in magazine racks, behind things on shelves, and in the candy. It seems to never cross their minds that maybe they can hand them to us to put up. One of my greatest irritaions would be the cold stuff. People know that it has to be kept cold but when they all of a sudden descide they don't want it, this fact never seems to cross their minds.

I see people who are barely able to afford essentials for living while other people are gluttonously spending foodstamps on junk food and putting up the food that is actually good for you when they're short on money. I've seen parents treat their children like dogs and children who walked all over their parents. I've seen extremely rich people steal for the thrill and poor people scrape up as much as they can to just get by.

I'm a cashier and I see and hear a lot. I'll tell you that humanity's not looking too good to me. While the young seem to be getting less and less educated and more disrespectful and arrogant, the old seem to become more and more out of touch with reality and the times. Price of living just keeps going up and those of us who were born poor, stay poor no matter how hard we fight to climb out of that hole. Those who were born middle class are slowly sliding down the rungs of the social ladder to lower class. The only people who seem to be able to make it and keep making it are those who have had money their whole life. No matter how short things become, they seem to still have money. With the state of affairs today in America I'm left wondering if America's going anywhere but down.

And I see all of this from behind the checkstand. As I scan your groceries I pick up on your family life, financial situations, work ethic, and morals. I learn how well you take care of yourself and your finances. I see when you care so little about life that you would stuff yourself with junk and have nothing better to do but bad mouth people you do not know. Like the bartender, the cashier knows more about their customers sometimes than the customers know themselves.

This is humanity through the eyes of a cashier. . .

. . .beep. . .beep. . .beep. . .

Poet's Journel: Entry 2

Hope.

It's a beautiful feeling. Your heart feels like it's somehow managed to sprout wings and is currently soaring six feet above your head. Butterflies start over-filling your stomach, crowding in every possible space. You feel light as air.

But then the fear sets in. Hope is just as scary as it is beautiful. You start seeing spots. Your heart plummets back to earth. And where butterflies used to be, you are now weighed down with cinderblocks. Darkness begins setting in as your mind clicks away.

What if all this happiness is for nothing?

What if nothing goes as planned?

What if they let you down?

What ifs crowd your brain and they fill you with shear panic. If something does go wrong and you've allowed yourself to hope, it hurts twice as bad. Things are crashing down around you and you're throwing your arms about trying to catch that good feeling again. Trying to figure out where it all turned dark.

You've now sunk deep into the ice water surrounding you. You're drowning in cold sharp pain. Why did you let yourself get here? You hoped, and hope led to this. But this isn't how it's supposed to be! Hope is precious and uplifting. But every time you hope you end up here. You just can't ever see where it all slid downhill. One second it's like the world is full of sunshine and flowers with smiley faces on them. But the next second everything is dark and cold and painful. The fear floods in so fast you never see it coming.

Wait.

A moment of clarity in the pain. Hope is not this at all. This is just what you've turned it into. What you've let it become. You've been hurt too much and seen too many things fall through. So when you feel that overwhelming joy you must counter it! Stomp it out! Smother it! You over-think. You rush ahead to try to ready yourself for the inevitable failure so that it doesn't have to hurt as bad. But you're not saving yourself any pain. You're destroying beauty.

So maybe. Maybe you should allow yourself to hope. Don't brace yourself for what MIGHT happen and don't worry yourself with tomorrow. Take life one day at a time. One step at a time. One breath at a time. One hope at a time.

. . .

Tough

Tough.

Not that word used when you want something but can't have it and your parents are unsympathetic.

Tough.

What happens when life kicks your ass and leaves you for dead on the side of the road. But you refuse to die. You push on and keep going through the hurts. Broken hearts. Tough decisions. Lost faith. You still stand through the pain.

Tough.

It's hard on the outside but soft and gooey on the inside. Even when you take deep gashes. Like when that bitch keyed your car. Cut it right down into the metal. You can buff it but that only takes the edge off. You can fill it in and paint over it. But it's still there and so are you.

Tough is standing tall and strong even when you are laughed at. Tough is being kind to someone in need, even when that someone is your enemy. Tough is choosing to be the better person. Tough is admitting you're wrong and saying sorry. Tough is living life THROUGH the hardships and pains instead of AROUND them.

Tough.

Old Times

Every time I hear older songs my mind goes back to good times when I listened to those songs. I never realized then that those memories would one day be so very precious. I find these memories playing in my mind like old movies. And my heart hurts. I hurt for the joys of my friends. The ones that are six hours away. The ones I can never go see because I don't have the money to drive out there to see them. I love them so much and they mean so much and I miss them so much! I feel so lonely here. *sighs and lifts a glass of vodka* To old times!

Pleasure Thyself

When I really want to pleasure myself it's a private moment that I seek. While masturbation can be done with a partner, and is very enjoyable when done that way, I get the most pleasure from masturbation when it's MY moment. The fact that it's all about me and nobody else is very possibly one of the reasons it's so much more pleasurable. And while toys are really really REALLY nice, my hands always out-work them. Also, though I like visual stimulation as well as the next girl, the best porn flicks are always the ones that my mind creates. This is my pleasure moment. And sometimes it only lasts a few minutes. Long enough to climax and then relax.

Pleasure thyself! I've heard of girls being embarrassed by masturbation and even abstaining from it because they think it's wrong. But here's the thing. It's nothing embarrassing and it's GOOD for you. It's your own special moment where you get to know your body. The more you know your body, the more you'll love it. And the more you love it, the happier you will be. It's also a great stress reliever. AND it feels good. And the best part about this amazing awesome pleasure, it's all about you!

So, pleasure thyself! There is nothing wrong about it.