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

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

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.

The Block Unstuck

So I've had writers block and it came unstuck in the oddest of times. At work during a dead time at the registers I pump out this little piece written on receipt paper in tiny messy hand writing.

I see you there from the corner of my eye. Nervous movement, switching from foot to foot. Face red, forehead beaded with sweat. I turn to meet your eyes. You avert them downward. The corners of my mouth turn up in a crooked smile. I take pleasure in your discomfort. I take you in, my eyes drinking you up like a refreshing glass of ice tea. I feel my smile twist into something sinister. You sense the change and your eyes dart up just long enough to see the change before falling quickly again. I smell your fear. Your body’s now covered in a light sweat, it glistens in the harsh fluorescent lights. I laugh menacingly and you breath in sharply, the breathe hissing through your teeth. You clasp and un-clasp your hands in front of you, trying to couch the rising terror. I jeer in your direction and you cease moving. Sly little mouse, sneaking peeks at your captor. I begin circling you slowly, devouring you with my eyes. Taking in every little detail, my grin widening. From my pocket I remove two small, shiny pebbles and play with them. They click against each other. Beautiful music. You flinch at the sound, squeezing your eyes closed tight, your hands in fists at your side. I smile at the small display of aggression and fear. I contemplate the small stones in my hand, but only for a moment. My decision made, I hurl one at your tender back. You yelp like a wounded dog, a red welt rising where the stone hit. Tears spill from your closed eyes. I let another one fly, hitting you in your fleshy middle. Another red welt rises, your chin begins to tremble. My empty hand flies out and slaps you hard across the face. A guttural crackle of laughter escapes me as you cry out in pain and surprise. Your eyes now wide and alert, searching frantically for where the next blow might come from. I spit at your feet my mouth twisted in disgust. “To your cage!” I order. You promptly obey, falling to your hands and knees and scampering to a tiny wire cage, where you curl into a shaking ball of human flesh. My need is satisfied for now.

Love Yourself!

All I have to say is, Love Yourself!

Poet's Journel: Entry 1

No regrets. Right? Well, that's the way I'd like life to be but sadly that is not a reality. I do regret. Things I never did or said. Things that should have never left my mouth, and actions I should never have taken. I sometimes wish for time back so that things could be different. But really, it seems like that's just too much to ask for. I try to love life but it's hard to love what hurts you. And I try to live life to the fullest only to look back and see so much more I could have done. Hindsight's 20/20 right? Not exactly. It's always tinted with our own feelings. Things are never clear to someone when that someone is involved. It takes a different perspective right? Well, sort of. but not really cause a person with no involvement may see things more clearly but they will never see the circumstances correctly. So who can really truly sort everything out into piles of right and wrong? Well, I think that's impossible. There's not just right and wrong, black and white if you will, but there are those gray areas. Those murky places where it's hard to see a clear line. yeah, there are some who believe gray just can't exist in those circumstances but I, well, I believe in it. And it's always the gray that seems to hold the most regret. No one is perfect. And if anyone claims to be they are liars and you should keep your distance from them cause in the end they will inevitably hurt you. And everyone makes mistakes. I am just human. And in that single sentence I admit to every single flaw and imperfection that I have. I reveal all of my weaknesses and open myself up. Honestly, it's scary to be that open. I don't want to be hurt in those tender spots that I build walls to protect. But if I never take the walls down I have a dreadful certainty that I will never really live and that nobody will really know me. And yes, it's pretentious of me to think that my words or life may inspire someone. But sometimes I really hope it does, sometimes I really just want to make the world a better place. Even just a little bit. And you see, I think that's why I'm here. While everyone is out there searching for their reason in life. I already have mine! And that is something I will never regret. Who would regret that? Maybe my life means nothing to a lot of people but maybe to just one it means a changed life. And yeah, that makes me feel really good. Like I'm special even if it's just because I made someone smile when they were having a hard day. I know a smile feels good when my day's been less than stellar. A good laugh always washes the tears away and a good cry always cleans out all the smog that our hearts seem to trap form the pain and suffering in the world. And I don't blame any higher being for it. That's just the way the world is. For light to exist there must be darkness and the dark couldn't exist without the light. I've come to accept that this is just the way of things. And if we're honest with ourselves we'd admit it's only as bad as we let it be. I feel like each and every one of us has a little dark and a little light in us and it's up to each of us how much of each comes through. sometimes I feel sad because we let the darkness snuff out our light. And it aids in a scary hopeless feeling. I try to push it down but sometimes it presses harder into me and threatens to suffocate me. But no matter how strong it is I will not let it win because it would make my whole reason for living nothing. If I let that hopelessness consume me I would never be able to change lives. And if I let that happen I would regret it forever. And that's what I'm trying to avoid.

This small town atrocity.

Take me away from here.
Away from this small town atrocity.
Away from the open fields and dense forests. Away from the cool clean air and wild animals and wide open space. So very beautiful, they do speak to my soul. Take me away from these closed minds.

How could something so closed live in someplace so open? How could ideas so ugly breed in a place so beautiful?

They crowd around me. Smothering. Marching on like clones. Not thinking, not feeling. Everything that is different is bad. Anything that is bad must be destroyed.

And I, I am the wild rose blooming in their well kept garden. Ferocious with feral beauty. My thorns may be sharp but my petals are delicate. The Geraniums* swarm all around gathering their stones to throw. They shout out my sins. I'm charged with being different, alive, real. Either I conform or die.

I am me, I am open and free. I will not give in to their selfish closed minded demands. I will not conform. I call out to the Mother Goddess to take me away.

Take me away from here.
Away from this small town atrocity.



* GERANIUM -Stupidity; Folly: http://www.taraflorist.com/TaraFloristFlowerSymbolization.htm

I Believe, Do you?

I believe. . .

in fairytales.

in magic.

in love.

in happily-ever-after.

in fairies.

in ghosts.

in witches.

in childhood dreams.

in prince charmings.

We snatch dreams from our children everyday forcing them to grow up too fast. No time for fanciful imagining. Life is cold and hard and there is no magic. Love is just a cliche and a prince charming will never ride up on a white horse to rescue you.

It's all so wrong. We are murdering childhood. Stealing creativity. Smothering individuality. Trampling kindness. And breaking dreams.

I believe!

Do you?

Fear of the Unknown: Revisit

Why are children afraid of the dark? Because they don't know what the shadows might hide. Why are people afraid of dieing? Because they don't know how or when they will die and they don't know what will come after. The fear of the unknown is like a river running through our lives eroding our quality of life. Just as a great man once said, the only thing to fear is fear itself! And how true. Fear does more damage than anything running at you from the dark will ever do.

I try to live my life not fearing what I cannot see or do anything about. I try to embrace the unknown. If I let myself get all worked up and stressed out over things I cannot see and stuff I cannot control then life isn't much worth the living. I would wake up every morning not wanting to live another day in this painful existence. Just as the Mighty Mississippi runs through my home carrying away anything that gets caught in it's undertow, so would the river of fear run through my heart carrying away all happiness and joy.

I beg you, do not let the fear of the unknown rule your life. Embrace the shadows. Accept things as they hit. Work through them as they come. Don't let the current of fear carry your life away!

The Times: What has come of today?

I'm not old by any stretch of the imagination, as a matter of fact, I am fairly young. But the more I see of the world today the older I feel. Have things changed so much that a 3 year gap feels more like a 10 year gap? I look around at things and take a step back. The thoughts running through my head dance along the lines of "What in the hell has the world come to? Do people not teach their children anymore? I wasn't that stupid when I was their age, have things really changed that much?" I'm really not even that far out of touch and yet I feel like I've lived under a pile of dirt for years.

So more to the point, what has come of today? When I talk about my childhood now I feel like I'm telling a fairy tale. "Once upon a time, in a land much like your own, I lived in. . ." People just 3 years younger than I am look at me with big eyes as I tell this masterful tale of the harsh days of my childhood where cell phones were not wide spread and dial up was the shit. Way back when you actually had landlines and called people instead of texting them. They gasp when I tell them about audio tapes, video tapes, and the fact that we did not have ipods, itunes, or satellite radio. They just can't believe that we only had one TV and computer in the house and that they weren't located in a bedroom but in the gathering room. All the time I wonder if they could have survived in my world.

By the same token I am often shocked by the fact that small children are running around with cell phones and cruising the internet without any kind of adult supervision. I go into MMORPGs and find 11 and 12 year olds grinding at 2 o clock in the morning. I hadn't even heard of MMORPGs until I was 17! I didn't get a cell phone until I was 16 and that was only out of necessity. I wasn't aloud unsupervised internet usage until I was 16 and I never had a computer or TV in my room until I was an adult! I didn't watch Adult Swim or South Park until I was 18. I am finding 8 year olds that can quote from Family Guy!

I guess maybe I lived in polite society (though I would never have considered it polite when I was a child). Because gas was not a funny thing but just a part of life. Foul language wasn't the norm, you were on the wrong side of the tracks if you were slinging the F bomb or even shit and damn. *gasp* Even hell was a dirty word. Of course I did tend toward the wrong side of the tracks but it was not the norm. Now I find small children spouting smut in wal-mart while their parents let them run wild. I'm left thinking, "By the Gods, my mom would have beaten me bloody if I acted that way!!!"

The times! What has come of today? Will it ever leave a tomorrow?

What's good?

So I'm just sitting at home in a piss poor mood when out of nowhere I get a random text message that says, "What's good?" The gears start turning. . .

What's good?
A nice strong screwdriver.
You know, I want a little orange juice with my vodka. I'd like to be able to taste the burn. Feel it consume me. Gag as it goes down. Feel my head get lighter with every drink. Swim in the rubbing alcohol smell. Just a tiny bit of acid to burn my lips. Glaze my eyes and daze my mind.

What's good?
A raging metal concert.
The louder the better. Atmosphere heavy with angry emotion. Let it course through me. Carry me away. A nice tight mosh pit. Violence swinging through the crowd. Ears ringing, throat raw from screaming. Feel the angry shiver of violent sexual urges course through my body all the way down to my toes. Make the music louder. Rock it harder. Wake up the next day hurting all over, ears ringing, head throbbing.

What's good?
Pouring rain.
Soaking me to the bone. Warm and cold at the same time. Running down my body. Nipples hardening, mind rushing. Free in the wind and the rain. The smell, the beautiful smell. Better than a good hot shower. Better than a good hard fuck. I'd like to die in the rain. Nature running to meet me as I breathe my last breath, wet, and cold, and happy.

What's good?
The smell of someone smoking a mentholated cigarette.
I'd never admit it to anyone but you. That smell sending wild pictures of naked red heads pulling deeply on a cigarette after a good long ride. It make my insides burn and yearn. I feel things clicking inside of me. And almost, just almost, I'm tempted to take a drag myself. Almost.

What's good?
A long hard cry. Wailing and screaming and sobbing. Let it all loose. Tell the world you hate it and love it, push it away only to pull it close. Kick and Scream and FEEL! Emotions raw and untamed flowing from the heart and soul. Eyes left red and puffy, mind left numb, heart set free.

What's good?
A gentle breeze. Slightly stirring a strand of hair. Dancing across skin. Kissing your cheek, caressing your face. Gently nudging you. Begging you to speak with it. Sing with it. Dance with it. Run with it. Lonely and soft begging for your friendship. Always leaving a smile on your lips.

What's good?

A Light in the Darkness: Are you someones lighthouse?

When we are tucked away safe and warm inside our mommy's tummies the world is a calm, wet, dark place. That all changed when we burst forth through birth. The world become very big, bright, and frightening. There are many more colors, sounds, and sensations. And although it's much brighter now than when we were tucked away in mommy's tummy, it's dark in a much more frightening way.

The world is a scary place when we're small. We're fairly helpless and things are so much bigger than us. But does that really change much when we grow older? We leave our parents arms and spring forth into a world that is most times much larger than we ever thought possible. Some are prepared for it but many more are not. They become lost in the dark seas of life. All of a sudden the feet that are holding them up are their own and the ground underneath them is much less stable. There is so much in this world to hurt us and so much that can go wrong. Sometimes it is overwhelming and all we need is a guiding light through the storm.

This leads me to a very big question. Are you someones lighthouse? Silly I know. Of course you are not an inanimate object that sits on dangerous coasts warning ships in the darkness of storms about dangers ahead. Or are you just that (excluding the inanimate part of course)? I've weathered my fair share of storms and found myself broken on unfamiliar shores all alone more times than I can count. But there were those other times. The ones where a light cut through the darkness and confusion and led me away from danger. Lighthouses! That bright friend or caring teacher. That kind stranger. Yes, even a few of you. We've all been there. I know we have. We've all had our lighthouses. But are you a lighthouse as well? Just think about how many people may be using your light to guide them. You might be the helping hand that saves a life. So please, don't let your lights go out. Are you someones lighthouse? Chances are, the answer is yes.