deeples

September 12, 2008

Wednesday

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: , , , , , — denise @ 3:08 pm

I cried 3 times on Wednesday

isn’t how it usually goes

makes it no less true

Once for me

Once for her

Once for me again

Recounting a story about

17 year old me

Pathetic me. Predicably me.

Funny how 20 years can pass

and still that fucking jab in your belly

is still as vicious and stabbing. Funny how easily I remember

every word

that I would eat whole… or bury in concrete

if I could.

Another story,

probably too personal to share

but share I did, because I have to let it out sometimes

a story about a butterfly

and a little purple blanket and a little flower

a baffled friend

who didn’t know how to stop me from sobbing

in the middle of the cafeteria at work

I always think that I won’t cry when I tell that story

and I always do. I always will.

And again, for me

because, why not?

It’s almost midnight and my thoughts are raw

and my skin vibrates and pulls

a day full of stories

and a night thick with fear

that I’m kidding myself

again.

I laughed so hard I almost vomited.

Filed under: Blogging — Tags: , , , , , , , , , — denise @ 2:09 pm

If action figures, WWE and yoga ALREADY make you laugh… you must, must, must read yogabeans.

The archives are hilarious, as well.   I especially liked this one.

Don’t read on a full stomach.  Laugh-barfing possible.

September 8, 2008

Post #140. Well, really it’s 204. Not really that either.

Filed under: Blogging — Tags: , , , — denise @ 4:22 pm

So, my counter says this is post #204.  Except I didn’t move all my blogs over.  Just the ones that I didn’t totally hate.  Even some of those, I guess….   but this is the 140th blog that exists solely on this webpage.

La dee dah.

I understand from blurking elsewhere that there is something of a tradition that a blogger, for their 100th blog, makes a list of 100 things about themselves that they think are interesting or notable.  It’s just sort of… RAAAAALG… if you get me.  I mean, blogs are inherently narcissistic and self-indulgent but 140 interesting things about me?  Please.  PLEASE.

(You repeated that out loud to yourself, didn’t you?  It’s ok.  Me, too. Really, there are few things that you will find obnoxious about me that I don’t already find obnoxious about myself… and if you have a THING you remember about me – a time I said too much or laughed too hard or made a total jackass out of myself, REST ASSURED that I remember that time, that THING, too.  Don’t think for one minute that I didn’t sit on the toilet with my head in my hands chant-whispering…”Why..why… why would you do that? Why? That was so dumb… Ugh”, afterward.  I may be an idiot sometimes, but I am a fairly self-aware idiot. Bygones.)

Ok, so what else can I do?  14 lists of 10?  7 lists of 20?  Slam my head on my desk 140 times?

How about just words?  140 words. One word for every blog I have ever uniquely published here on my sweet, blushing deeples.com…

& you

deranged

babies & teenagers

lists & friends & photos

& hate & love &

politics & religion & bong-bong bells

doctors & pocket music

& tears & confusion & wishes & hope

flavors you are supposed to savor

ones you pretend to not notice

just a taste, a crumb, a tongue run long the back of a spoon

of me

the part I can share

the part that sustains me more by giving it away

than by keeping it.

sympathize, empathize

commiserate, justify

judge

me

judge

you

churning stomach, wincing words

hoping you will read between the words

even when there is silence in that space

vomit

poo

bunnies

pride

those beautiful eyes of yours.

that funny laugh of yours.

they way you bring me down

& lift me up

much to my embarrassment

either way.

Yes, I mean you.

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