Expectations

I've been waiting,
fighting this damn gnawing anxiety,
rotting in the small of my back,
like an apple thrown in discord.

I've said my piece, fallen to pieces, and stooped to collect them countless times.
I've loved and lusted, lavishly and luckless.
I've done my time, and often wasted it on people, adventures, pursuits that simply weren't worth it.
I've danced with friends, around fears, and in impulsive rain.
I've soaked up random facts from books, and dipped my feet in freezing water.
I've walked the line, the walk, and around in circles.
I've tried and been tried beyond my wildest expectations.

So someone please tell me, what am I waiting for?

Skipping Stones

Friendships are like streams;
you don't know how long they'll last,
or how deep they run.

Each fight is a rock,
and after enough pile up,
that stream disappears.

Top 40 Love Story

(written from 12 am to 4 am)

This is what listening to Top 40 for three days on end while studying does to me. Enjoy the cliche lameness with mild judgment, please. :)

Kudos if you can recognize every reference without checking the index at the end!!!!! :D

Top 40 Love Story

At the Club

            There’s a place downtown, where the freaks all come around. It’s a hole in the wall; it’s a dirty free-for-all.

Him

My first night at The Black Hole. The last time I hit up any club was withCaroline. My boys recommended a good place, and she seemed down. So much so, actually, that she got down with anything that had two legs. But that was in the past. I wanna celebrate and live my life.

It’s time to do the things I like, going to the club - I’m riding solo. It’s been about three weeks since she left, which means I’m officially outta the rebound zone! Walk into the club, black lights blazing. I throw my hands up in the air sometimes, saying “AYO”, gotta let go.

“Fuck Caroline! Tonight, we’re gonna party like it’s the end of the world.” Max was always a good wingman. I’m feelin pumped: club can’t even handle me right now.

~*~

Her:

Damn bachelorette parties. Am I happy for Jeanie? Of course, but they know I don’t party. I feel so…exposed. Whose scrap of cloth is this again, Meg’s?  Figures. In the flurry of excited squeals and barking orders -

“Close your eyes!”

“Pucker up!”

“Now open! Look down, now look up.”

“Stop moving your head, the straightener’s right next to your ear!”

- I seem to recall her chucking some glitzy material my way.

So they had spent all of that time plucking, curling, and looming over me with crazed, glazed eyes, and now, what? They all disappeared. And here I am, on my third beer, trying to dance, like a fool. Well, I’ve seen enough pop music videos to imitate. I’ll just whip my hair back and forth.

~Four Minutes~

Wow, how surprisingly gratifying! Now I’m feeling so fly, it almost reminds me of a G6. And oh my god, is that cute guy approaching me? No, no way. I must be hallucinating. Nope, no one behind me, at least not looking this way. Two feet and closing – oh dear god. Keep it cool, what’s the name of this club? I can’t remember, but it’s alright, I’ll just channel that skank with the trashy dollar-sign in her name…

~*~

3rd Person:

“Baby, I like it – the way you move on the floor,” he whispered into her ear from behind, after they had danced for a few songs. She dragged him to the crowded bar. Off the dance floor, he could smell her perfume, only slightly diluted by the smoke and sweat of the club. She looked even more like a sexy bitch than under the black light. She nabbed a pen and scribbled those precious digits on his bare forearm, followed by one word: Sophie.

“Call me up if you want gangsta,” she tossed over her shoulder, swiftly disappearing into the throng of dancing bodies.

His name, pulled from his lips a few seconds later, drowned in the thumping bass line: “Alejandro…”

First Date

           Let’s go, don’t wait. This night’s almost over. Honest, let’s make this night last forever.

 “She’s sexy,” he began, his fingers flying across the qwerty.

“-from her head to her toes?” Mike shot back within seconds.

“Yeah, she’s got me, like, oh my god, I’m so in love,” he could barely text he was so in love.

“then what are you doing texting me? you got her number, right?”

“…you so right. ‘late.”

~*~

            “Someone got a text message! Who’s 804-392-5601?” Meg was much too loud, louder than usual.

            “I don’t know! I don’t – god, can you pour me some coffee? Wait, oh shit. I gave some guy my number last night. Help! Meg! What do I do?”

           “That depends. Was he hot?”

            “…Very. But you know I’m in no position to get involved with someone right now.”

            “Oh come on, Soph. It could be fun!”

            “No.” I grabbed the phone from her before she started texting him for me.

“Soooooophie. what up, girl? it’s Alejandro, ya know, from the club” Hah, that’s inspired.

“Uhm. How do I say this? I was very inebriated last night. I shouldn’t have given you my number…Sorry.” Meg was looking over my shoulder, shaking her head.

“aww ya know I could use somebody like you” That was a fast response.

“Exactly, you’d “use” me. Not exactly the best terminology to woo a girl.”

“there are beautiful girls all over the world. i could be chasing but my time would be wasted cause they got nothing on you” Back-handed compliment, much? He didn’t even wait long enough for me to text back.

“what are you waiting for? take a bite of my heart tonight. or at least a bite to eat - dinner at eight?” Now that was cute, I’ll admit. Meg was grinning like an idiot.

Love

            One Love! One Heart! Let’s get together and feel all right.

“It’s a beautiful night; we’re looking for something dumb to do. Sophie, you’re a firework, I think I want to marry you.” 

“Make me feel like I’m the only girl in the world, like I’m the only one you’ll ever love, like I’m the only one who knows your heart, and then maybe I will throw caution to the wind.”

“I’d catch a grenade for you, because you’re amazing, just the way you are. I’ve never felt like this, I swear it’s the truth, and I owe it all to you. “

“That’s all I’ve ever wanted – an attractive, sensitive guy who’s unafraid to bare his heart. It’s almost too good to be true! Your love is my drug. They tried to make me go to rehab, but I said no, no, no. Let’s go all the way tonight, no regrets - just love.”

The Breakup

            Wha-Wha-What did you say? You’re breaking up on me.

Him: 

I tried so hard, and got so far, but in the end, it doesn’t even matter – I gave all my secrets away. I should have known one or the other would find out.

“But this was just a stupid mistake, Sophie! You’re the one that I want! Baby, please don’t go!”

“And to which “baby” are you referring now, huh? Me or this whore?” She turned her burning gaze on the half-naked woman standing in the bedroom doorway.

“I see you fooling around with the guy I love, and I’m like, fuck you. Fuck you very much. Now get the hell out of my apartment!” Candy ran out, taking the sheet with her. Sophie began to shake, standing in the hallway, suitcase from her business trip still tipped over on the floor where she had dropped it in surprise.

“I should have known from the start, you were only going to break, break my heart. I’ve been choking on your alibis, but it’s just the price I pay for being so naive.”

“Babe, like I said, it was just a mistake. Besides, a lot of guys are doing this nowadays. Affairs are shown to relieve a lot of tension between couples.” I think I had read that somewhere…yeah, maybe. Anything to get her to stay just a few moments longer.

There were no tears welling up in her chocolate eyes. She had stopped shaking. Now she only laughed, coldly.

“Exactly who died and made you king of anything? I won’t let you turn around, and tell me now, I’m much too proud.” She stooped only to pick up her suitcase, the best bottle of wine out of the fridge, and then turned on her heel.

“You’ll be out by 5 pm, and out for good,” she tossed over her shoulder. She didn’t wait for a reply.

~*~

She walked to the elevator. Her heels clicked regularly on the sad cement floor. Tomorrow she would terminate the lease on this shitty apartment and move back in with Meg. Then, she’d hit the city; eyes opened, and catch the ground running. No one ever really wins in heartbreak warfare, but next time, I’ll be bulletproof.

Songs Referenced

Title

Love Story – Taylor Swift

At the Club

Ridin’ Solo - Jason DeRulo

Dynomite – Taio Cruz

2012 – Jay Sean

Club Can’t Handle Me  - Flo Rida featuring David  Guetta

Whip My Hair – Willow Smith

Four Minutes - Madonna

Like a G6 – Far East Movement

Just Dance – Lady Gaga

I Like It – Enrique Iglesias

Sexy Bitch – David Guetta

Raise Your Glass – Pink

Alejandro – Lady Gaga

First Date

First Date – Blink 182

OMG - Usher

Use Somebody – Kings of Leon

Animal – Neon Trees

Nothing on You – B.O.B.

Love

One Love – Bob Marley

Marry You – Bruno Mars

Firework – Katy Perry

Only Girl - Rihanna

Grenade – Bruno Mars

Just the Way you Are – Bruno Mars

The Time – Black Eyed Peas

Your Love is my Drug - Kesha

Rehab – Amy Winehouse

Teenage Dream – Katy Perry

The Breakup

Telephone – Lady Gaga

In the End – Linkin Park

Secrets – OneRepublic

You’re the One that I Want – Grease

Please Don’t Go – Mike Posner

Fuck You – Cee Lo

Fuck you – Lily Allen

Break your Heart – Taio Cruz

Mr. Brightside – The Killers

King of Anything –Sara Bareilles

Heartbreak Warfare – John Mayer

Bulletproof – La Roux

Also, if it seems like I hate men because of how the story turned out, it's just a reaction to the overwhelmingly sexist music I've been listening to. Originally, this story was meant to be happier. 

I'll try to leave you on a high note - the last song I'm listening to before crashing (holyeffingshit it's 4 am):

"SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS SHOTS - EVERYBODY!" :)

From Point A --> Z

Your life is a flow chart, and you follow that arrow religiously, braking harshly at every stray path that might distract you from the next predestined box. Your flow chart is a straight shot, a tired old plot so afraid of holes it accounts for every contrived move. Tied to this script - can I even call it yours? - you follow your lines, retreating within your boxes, hardly daring to peek out and glimpse this opportunity passing by.

Your life is someone else's flow chart, a newly surfaced road, an uninspired film, and
I'm beginning to think that there's simply no role for me.

As Winter Approaches

I am slowly becoming nocturnal.
It is black and light by fives.
I drag myself up to bed
as the sun's fingers poke the horizon,
and emerge at two.

I am drunk of my slumber.
I stumble forth,
ducking the light,
and craving coffee
as a zombie hungers for flesh.

5 Minute Sketch

"My sister?! What were you thinking?!" Bread's shrill screams echoed through the cupboard.
      Okay, so maybe, in retrospect, it had been a stupid idea to hit on his girlfriend's younger sister, but Peanut Butter simply couldn't help himself anymore!  He had never really liked Bread, she was multigrain and downright preachy. But when she started cozying up to him through their mutual buddy, Raspberry Jelly, he couldn't pass up the chance to smooth the road to Bread's sister.
     Her name was Toast, and boy, was she SMOKIN'. She was a hothead, all right, but her fiery passion enticed his adventurous side. He tried to be faithful to Bread, but that damn Toast would just pop up whenever he least expected it, catching him by surprise, and catching his eye.
     Finally, he just couldn't take it anymore; his heart was spread too thin. She was tanning those smooth bronze curves over by the Ritz crackers on the West Side of the pantry. He strode straight up, looked her in the rye, and told her flat-out: "There's no use denying it a second longer. I'm nuts for you."

3:12 am

Have you ever popped open a can of Diet Pepsi and, in the dead of the early morning, heard them?

You expected only a quick sizzle as you casually flipped back the tab, risking a chip in your newly polished nail, but now suddenly you are bombarded by cries for help from within:

"Dave?! Dave, what's happening?!"
"Someone must have switched to anti-gravity!"
"WHAT?"
"Just grab my hand, Cheryl, I'll hold you down!"
"Don't let me go, don't you dare let go ---- Dave!"

POP.

And the prospect of a flat soda had never seemed quite so depressing...

Why I'm no engineer

Can your science explain away
the rain -
the exhilaration -
as the first drop tickles my nose,
racing its brothers to the thirsty earth,
washing away the anxiety of a long day,
gracing me with a few moments of company
before regretfully slipping
and dripping
away,
dutifully answering the call
of a higher purpose?
For if it could,
I don't think I should care at all.

Baltimore Leaves

Falling down and falling forward,
skating on the chilled wind that softly rustles my hair,
glistening in and out of existence,
simply floating endlessly.

Salutations!

To all of you bored individuals needing a break from the mundane,

allow me to introduce myself: I'm nobody noteworthy, but in an effort to clear my mind, I'll be updating periodically to share all of those little nagging questions that bother the moment before blissful sleep, any inspiring moments that distract from the banal, and any random musings of my often hyperactive mind.

Yes, that was indeed one sentence.

No promises on grammatical accuracy (see "late night" in blog description). :)