Fuck love, it's time to get sexy

fuck your body and show me your mind
common ground is hard to find
when the only place i'm behind
is your ass

swallow your tongue and show me your tits?
is that your answer--
to the pieces that just wont fit?

fuck that and make me love you harder
because i am so much smarter
than i am horny.

Happy Father's Day, Mofo

you're like a nail on a chalkboard
you're a hole in my head
backwards motions unable to move forward
you are a brick wall up ahead

you are the scream in my sleep,
and the smirk in my smile
i pray the lord my soul to keep,
if i could get my hands on you for a while

you're the stomp in my feet
and your back is in every crack
you are in every gasping breath
of every anxiety attack

i sat under your tree
the one that never grew to offer me shade
and the lemons that gave me hell
i've made them into lemonade

i'm stoned, it's time for a parenting lesson

third grade. i come in from school and she was sitting on her little red proper chair with arms and thick fabric. she was holding it, the paper i'd failed, the paper i'd hidden from her in fear of this very situation. she had it in her hand and was giving me what felt like deaths glare. from where i was standing, i felt an instant hallway go up around us. straight shot to her face. i felt like nothing else existed but me, my mistake, and that crazy ass woman.

she had the most demeaning way of speaking to me. like i was a stupid animal and she was going to throw rocks at me or some shit. she'd scrunch her lips and squint her eyes, and roll her head around as she spoke. "do you know what this is?", she'd ask me questions for her own satisfaction of hearing the fear in my voice. it made me sick. i hated her. i knew at even a young age, why the fuck she would ask obvious questions. she fucking loved to hear me quiver under her aggressive power. she'd take control of anyone she possibly could.

she told me to go in my room. i knew what was going to happen, she knew i knew. i could feel the holes in my back as she watched me quickly tip-toe off, in fear that one creak in the floor could set her off even more. she had really "gotten back" at me, and she lived off it like water.

the next thing i remember, is her walking into my room with that same look on her face. that look of absolute... arrogant ignorance that beating me was going to show me the light. doing this hurt me a lot more than it hurt her. she'd wanted me to know that, it's not even something that needs to be said when you see her eyes. scaring me as she took the belt and ran it over her fingers, looking at me crying begging her not to do it. shuffling to the other end of the bed where she couldn't get me. this is what she had been waiting for all afternoon.

she would just start throwing that belt around. it felt like she had two. it felt like her arms were flying one hundred miles per hour and she was never going to stop. as i type this up, everything rushes back. i feel like i've probably repressed it, because when i think about it i feel as if i'm back there.

the belt landing on it's side and leaving those distinct c's over me. the sound of it cracking. how she would kick me when i was down. the feeling of her holding me down by my back and my arms and legs flailing. screaming. thinking back on it, my own screams are the loudest things i've ever heard. i'd turn over, she'd take it and hit my arms i'd held over my face. the feeling of the hatred in her hand penetrated down through me into my veins when i'd slip away, and she'd grab me and slam me back to where she could hit me some more.

i rolled off the bed. i was on my butt on the floor looking up at her. she was so angry i'd actually gotten away from her. as if i shouldn't be fighting it. how do you not fight it? my foster father came in at that point. i liked him much more than her. but all i remember of him now, is how he grabbed me with the same scowl and shoved me face down into the bed where no one could hear me screaming as she continued. when they'd beat me i'd look towards the window. i knew the neighbors. i'd scream for help and wonder why the fuck they never heard me. or.. worse.. why they never said anything.

i remember the day after. i looked in the full-length mirror on the back of my white door and my pale skin glowed with lines of scabs. up the sides of my stomach, on my back, horribly down my whole body, except for the fronts of my thighs. my eyes were still red like i was stoned from all that crying. my throat hurt from screaming. looking myself back into my mirror eyes, i got choked up again.
i feel so awkward being so detailed about things like that in my childhood. it's not something one talks about. it's embarrassing and makes me feel belittled again, just to bring it up. but it links me to another memory..

in third grade - in the corner of our classroom as we sat on the floor working together - i asked a girl i'll always remember the face of, mackenzie bowers - blond hair, spaced out buck teeth, a beige shirt and a crooked smile - "what do your parents do when you don't do well on report cards?". i was more jealous than i've ever been when she said "they tell me to try harder next time".
try harder next time.

- P

You don't really know

As a person that has disturbing dreams every night, whether good or bad, his whole life - I had the most horrifying nightmare of my life last night. I always write down my dreams right after I have them. I wrote down the highlights on my blackberry once I calmed down. I needed to write it down in full length, so here I am. The end is the horrible part. Read on if you wish. And if you wanna interperate this, i'd love it!

The first thing I remember, is being in a kitchen. In a dark trailer-like place. My mother and dad were there. He walks in and is hinting around, I can't remember exact words. He sits a cake down, and my mom says, "October 55th..?..HAPPY BIRTHDAY!", like she forgot it. I remember thinking, "October 55th? His birthday is October 17th?" Anyway... she was talking about how she was sorry she forgot. That we had a cake so we would go out and get some more food then celebrate.

The next thing I know, I'm walking out the door and I feel drunk. I'm at the same farmhouse I was in a previous nightmare of mine about a week ago. My parents are standing in the yard next to each other, and I'm trying to get to them but i'm falling over and i'm so dizzy I just keep telling them i'm dizzy. My mom carries me (? Yeah, she couldn't carry me in real life, LOL) to a truck. An old, small, rusty-red truck. There are blankets stacked up to the top of the cab in the back. I say i'm okay. That I don't need to go that i'm feeling better, because i'm thinking the hospital will find drugs in my system. My mom takes me anyway.

She drops me off at a subway station, and there is a woman saying symtoms of something like an intercom naming off the stops on a bus. I don't have any of them. There are women all around me (YES, all of my dreams turn sexual SOMEHOW) and one hot one keeps looking at me. My friend Matt calls me, and tells me he is with my ex-adopted father. Suddenly, I am on a school bus with the hot girl and a few other people. My stop is the next one. The bus is headed towards my childhood home. And just like that, i'm off the bus with my things on a table. Outside. With the hot girl and two other people. My house feels so far away.

We are all shocked to be off the bus. I notice that the other people are old friends I had back in school. I look back, into a park, where a friend I haven't talked to in months was walking towards me. I pretended not to see her for a minute. I look down to see a hole in my shirt. I notice she is right behind me, so I turn around. We look at each other for about a minute, just smiling. I then jump on her and give her a hug.

That is the last part of this part of the dream that I remember fully. I do remember being in my house full of friends I rarely see for a second or two. And then..

I was laying in bed. My bed that I was sleeping in last night. I was in the same room, but it had a few differences. I was watching two young people. A young woman with a lavender shirt and brown hair, and a young guy. Thuggish. Wearing black.

They talked for a few minutes. I listened to every word, watching, but I don't remember all of what they said. The guy asks the girl for drug money. She says she's sorry, but she can't give him any. He says something in disapointment, holds his hand like he has a gun in it, and shoots himself up his stomach all the way to his head. There is no blood. There are no holes, there is no gun. It's like he's miming it. The girl is horrified like there is.

Then the girl does the same. Invisible gun, invisible gun shots. She looks over to see the guy stumbling, falling like he's dying. She starts to do the same. She falls against a mirrored closet door. She sees herself bloody, dead, white. She looks up to see him dead and zombie like over her.

All of these things that happened happened so slowly, like the reactions were so delayed. I was trying to scream but screams wouldn't come out. I was yelling for my girlfriend. I was beating on the wall and thrashing around and trying to make all the noise I could trying not to see it. I kept seeing that same image for a good two minutes or so before I felt her put her arms around me and told me she was there. I was calm completely. Awake. And I turned I sat up and turned around and she wasn't there.

I then freaked out, ran out of my room, grabbed my keys and left.

Haha.

Ugh...

Good morning, world.

Motherfucker i'm ILLLL

Yesterday... well, technically two days ago now - I went to pick my grandmother up from her nursing home to be with her on my birthday. She woo'd me into coming, and introduced me as "Her best looking, and most successful grandson". There was prune cobbler. Enough said. We drove all the way to Nova Scotia from Quebec to see my ancestors gravesites.

We came across a great uncle of mine's grave. His daughter was burried close to him. She pointed at her grave and said,

"This is his daughter. She was never.. a good person"

I asked, "Why is that?"

She said "Well, she was a whore."

She said it very matter-of-factly. When she turned around, my mouth dropped open and I think I had to pick it up off the ground.

Peoples views and reasons for hate always amuse me.

Peace,

Love,

and ACCEPTANCE to you all!

- Charles