Saturday, January 31, 2015

five on a friday

upstairs neighbors come down-turn
for the thundering inside,
asks my beats for less release,
deny and return to life.

upstairs neighbors ring the door'
try and try again,
complain their floors are shaking,
can't stand to feel it. when

two in the morning, workday,
rebuttal comes, wakes me up,
butterfingers daily dropping,
gets me tired enough,

but five pm, it's friday
and i'm winding down,
then you complain...
deny and sit back down.

upstairs neighbors pound the door,
swear to call the don,
laugh, and do it here, i'll wait,
no? then move along.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Coined by Calm, Day 1

I don't know what to say, and that might be a first.

While impromptu verbal forms of expression have long been a challenge for me, the written word usually comes naturally for me, but for once... it's hard.

So I sold my car. It wasn't worth much, held together by more rust than steel, but it got me a few more bills in my pocket and eighteen hours from home. It got me a spare wheel, a couple of spare tires, and offset the solar panel that I've rigged onto my trailer.

It also got me through the past nine years of life. It was my first car, and if this all works out, it will be my last. Wish me luck.

Find the rest of the C-by-C Project at

Friday, January 16, 2015

I Just Gestured To All of Me

fly like the wind and roar like the earth, 
jump without falling and miss hitting dirt, 
make yourself into more and leave so much less 
and stop being convinced you're not worth the rest. 

I'm falling, I'm diving, I'm out of control... 
my mind's blacked-out and my psyche has holes; 
I'm flailing, I'm breaking, I'm giving up fast... 
my strength is fading and I'm ready to crash. 

idiots keep trying the same thing 
and keep expecting something different to be; 
I keep trying different things, 
endlessly wishing for one simple dream:  

I want to stop falling, stop failing, stop worrying, 
stop hating what I know tomorrow will bring; 
the depression, the pain, the darkness I see... 
but most of all: the being me.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

Double Dipping, 1

Mature Content
The topics covered in this story may not be appropriate for all ages.

Online dating is a wasteland. Sure, there may statistically be plenty of fish in the sea, but sorting the fish from the sharks, so to speak, and standing out myself is just as difficult as ever. Everybody has their own ways of handling this, and I'm no different.

Every reply I get I treat reverently, though I'm not the type of guy (or have the sort of profile) that gets propositioned often or frequently.

From: dianaknowsbest
To: 1stofpleasures

Browncoat indeed! You've certainly got me pegged. I give you a B+ in horribleness and an A+ in hats. Where do you get those things?

To start with, I thought like a dandelion rather than a mammal: I put myself out there, everywhere. One account per network, and they all got the same username so anybody else doing the same thing would feel less deceived when they stumbled over me. 

I did have what I considered my primary account, what fell on my preferred network, and posted that on my alternate profiles, but some people had their preferences and I never asked them to change.

From: missdknowsbest
To: 1stofpleasures

Nice hat. It makes you look younger, though that's probably not something you need. Do you think it might have the same effect on me? Thanks for the book recommendations, I'll definitely take a look.

Secondly, I let my tastes and search preferences broaden. This was a natural process that would have happened regardless as I aged, but I mentally prepared myself for it early. For example, though I didn't want children for myself, I was more open towards chatting and growing close to those who did. I made it clear I wasn't prepared for a parental role, but that might be less of a deterrant than you might think.

From: dianaknowsbest
To: 1stofpleasures

Wow, you make them? That's so cool. I'd love for you to make one for me, but perhaps you better measure my head yourself.

And thirdly, I really put myself out there. Every message was tailored to my target--that's the way it's supposed to be, but it seems to get passed up more often as of late. With the advent of the internet, it's become so much easier to have stock messages and a limited book of pick-up lines--which was another thing I didn't subscribe to.

From: missdknowsbest
To: 1stofpleasures

You're too kind. No, really. That's fantastic though: a guy who cooks and sews. What's left for us womenfolk to do? I'm teasing, of course. I'd love to have you over for dinner. Well, food for dinner, and if you're lucky, you for dessert. 


Read all parts of Double Dipping on DreamCruder.

Friday, January 2, 2015

Hildy Johnson

I need the risk to make it worthwhile,
the chance to lose it all,
every choice, every trial,
makes me stand or fall.

I need the possibility of dying
if I toe too close the line,
I need the vultures flying
overhead, not in my mind.

I need just like MacDonald,
sunning on his Steel Beach;
I need fewer, smaller handholds,
and civilization out of reach.

I could do without the CC
running circles in my head,
it's crowded enough up there
with nothing left unsaid.

Not What I Wanted To Write

everything crumbles
and falls into dust,
everything topples
and stains with rust;
everyone falters
and loses their ground,
everyone wonders
why they're kept around.