[. Chick Habit .]

.Go Ahead, Fuck With Me. I Dare You.
.We'll Eat You Alive.

.hang up the chick habit.
.hang it up, daddy.
.or you'll be alone in a quick.
.hang up the chick habit.
.hang it up, daddy.
.or you'll never get another fix.

.i'm telling you it's not a trick.
.pay attention, don't be thick.
.or you're liable to get licked.

.you're gonna see the reason why.
.when they're spitting in your eye.
.they'll be spitting in your eye..

.hang up the chick habit.
.hang it up, daddy.
.a girl's not a tonic or a pill.
.hang up the chick habit.
.hang it up, daddy.
.you're just jonesing for a spill.

.oh, how your bubble's gonna burst.
.when you meet another nurse.
.she'll be driving in a hearse.

.you're gonna need a heap of glue.
.when they all catch up with you.
.and they cut you up in two.

.now your ears are ringing.
.the birds have stopped their singing.
.everything is turning grey.

.no candy in your till.
.no cutie left to thrill.
.you're alone on a tuesday.

.hang up the chick habit.
.hang it up, daddy.
.or you'll be alone in a quick.
.hang up the chick habit.
.hang it up, daddy.
.or you'll never get another fix.

.i'm telling you it's not a trick.
.pay attention, don't be thick.
.or you're liable to get licked.

.you're gonna see the reason why.
.when they're spitting in your eye.
.they'll be spitting in your eye.

---Tonight, I really didn't get to blog about what really has inspired me for the night. Heh, I don't want a panicked boyfriend. So you'll have to deal with it.

Inside I decided to surface something I found remarkable.

I hate digging up a old grace where I buried skeletons of my past, but I think I have to vent over it. It's something I see way too much.

When people fall fools to false presumptions of the heart.

There is so many sides to this. And for you that can't see outside the box, I mean cheating.

In the beginning we're animals. We have two basic instincts, but overtime we were able to conquer one, and control it. Out of self-preserve, and species-preserve.. its species-preserve. Fight or flight, most of us are able to control the baby making instinct. Don't believe me? You -have not- met my best friend, Megan.

Megan, is the butterfly to my moth. She is my equal, twin, but polar opposite in a lot of aspects. Not this. You should see how we talk on the long rides in her car. (and then how quickly our A.D.H.D. kicks in when some loud, obnoxious, booty shaking song comes on the radio shuts us up.) She doesn't want kids. I respect her for that. I, myself, don't really know if I do or not. Soon? Hell no. Awe... I'm dragging away from the subject.

I leave names of the stories I tell unmentioned. Yet, they feel they are documents that are stuck within the cell of my cranium.

Happy relationship. Beautiful, happy, healthy, consistent. Yet, something happens that wasn't planned. Pregnancy. Its a scary thing. They get married immediately, and begin to plan. Both moving in with each other. Then a sudden ugliness is brought out in the both of them. The male, loses commitment completely behind the female's back. The female finds out and it breaks her heart, and her trust. They try again, as months go on she keeps swelling with the child she is making. She goes on a trip and he continues his unfaithfulness behind her back, and uses her 'trip' as an excuse. It was rocky.. and he CONTINUED to be unfaithful, and he lied to her face. She had a beautiful baby, and she continued on.. but the scar is still there. The trust is still gone. He is gone, she dropped him from her life like a bad habit.

Why would you destroy all the beauty in your life if in landed in your hand..? Is it so much like a egg, that its shell is so fragile that a mere flinch of your hand could crack it? One bad decision set off a chain reaction like a bad chemistry project? Its mind boggling. What hits home so hard with me... is.. that could happen to me. Someone could destroy me like that.. I've been knocked down hard before, but nothing like that.

A young kid, a person who didn't even know what she wanted. He wanted. It wanted. I'm sure they didn't know where they place themselves in the world. They will one day, and will realize just exactly how beautiful they are. What ever they choose to be. Yet beautiful things can do such mean things, even when they didn't mean to be mean. Portray themselves to be several other people, but themselves. They gain friends, these different alternatives knowing each other, happiness. Yet the core of the soul was broken and bleeding. Neediness. This person talks as if the home they live in doesn't appreciate how special they are. Desperate, hopeless romantic, we love you. No worries. Yet, what they did was wrong. Coiling a love relationship around lies. Fake alias, fake picture, fake life, fake stories.. I was too smart to let the mask shield them the way it did. I fell onto them by accident, but I think it was fate. I was their 7th tarot card. I was their reality slap. Now that the truth was out, the burden is gone, but the rain is pouring down hate, distrust, negativity. I don't blame them, I did it too. I'm guilty for the same sort of things when I was their age. I got a grip on myself. I hope they do too.

Pretending for love? Exactly how far would you go with a lie for wholeness? Its a habit. Being so young, and so ripped up.. and begging for a needle to pull yourself together not caring about the damn pain about the suture penetrating the flesh of your spirit. How far? Then I asked myself, and I realized.. I did it for a long time. Its weird how you can look back, and not even know how bad you were being lied to, and hurt.. because you were so numb and desperate.. And it hits you like a train.



How long would you lie to YOURSELF? Kid yourself of deep rooted feelings, and cheat someone out of something genuine just because you didn't want to hurt them.



Do the math, and do not let it happen to you. Drop the habit. Stop cheating. Stop cheating them, and stop cheating yourself.

[. Mother .]

.Protection. .Goddess. .Mother.

Today is my Mom's birthday.
There is a lot to reflect on.

I often see my Mom as a falling star.
I remember her when I was a little girl.
My Mom was such a bubbling youth.
She was as fresh as spring.
As Warm as summer.

At least thats how I remember.
Perhaps my Dad remember her as the 100lbs of dynamite that would tear up the dance floor on Saturday nights.
Perhaps my friends remember her as the lady with the accent, the overprotective Momma that wouldn't hesitate to kick some ass, and made amazing mashed potatoes.
Perhaps her other kids would only remember the false stories they heard, or the vague memories they had.

Stars are beautiful. Bright.
Yet, the thought of a falling star is sad.
Bleeding out all the glitter all the way down to the dark, cold, hard, ground.
Something that used to be as fragile as glass, that projected such a soft warm light..
Something that is now weathered, endured, harder.

My Mom has a lot of gold necklaces, rings, trinkets. When she dresses up, as she seldom does. I always feel like she's hiding. Trying to cover flaws. Trying to project something that she wants, but never has. Like all that jewelry would lend her some of the shine, because she feels like she lost all of hers.

My Mom's a fallen star.

She sits in the living room, watching her soaps and American Idol religiously. "The house is clean, Lee and Ed are fed, animals are fed, Ed is away. What should I do? " When I leave I think she will not know how to deal with silence, with peace. When she could be herself. She used to dance all the time, but inside the stereo case is a thick layer of dust. She hasn't listened to music in years.

Perhaps one day my Mom will reach deep inside of herself, and find the music she once had.

Regardless, I'm going to take her out tonight. I promised her Red Lobster for Mother's Day. So, that's what I'm going to do tonight. For her birthday, I was thinking maybe we could go to the mall. So she can do girl stuff, things she doesn't get to do often.

[. It's My Time To Fly .]

Defintion: fly
1  /flaɪ/ Show Spelled Pronunciation [flahy] Show IPA verb, flew or, flied, flown, fly⋅ing, noun, plural flies.
–verb (used without object)
1. to move through the air using wings.
2. to be carried through the air by the wind or any other force or agency.
3. to float or flutter in the air.
4. to travel in an aircraft or spacecraft.
5. to move suddenly and quickly; start unexpectedly:
6. to change rapidly and unexpectedly from one state or position to another:
7. to flee; escape.
8. to travel in space.
9. to move or pass swiftly.
10. to move with an aggressive surge:
____________________________________________________
1. All this time I was grounded. I never knew my wings were right there. With me for ten years.
2. Not even my wings knew it. They didn't want to believe it. Yet I carried them.
3. I flew, and my soul was finally free from the filth that corroded my heart.
4. My wings were him. I soared through space, in a music of a heart beat.
5. It was so sudden. It erupted like the sleeping lakes of a volcano.
6. So unexpected, and unplanned that it was nearly scary, solving the puzzle.
7. Minds, and bodies entwined was like running away, and kissing the shadows.
8. No gravity, no heavy rusted chains breaking our skins with their weight.
9. Time had past us so quickly, to the girl with the flower, and the boy with a grin.
10. The surge was violent as it ripped the flesh of our spirit and melted together.


The moth was boiled at 291 degrees by the spider, He told her it is time to fly.

[. Mystification Of Her Moth .] + [ .ABOUT ME. ]

I decided to remake the blog with a different name, because in this blog I am not Jez. I am myself. I'm not the girl I'm staged to be. This is me stripped naked of the plastic, me raw.

But, You wanted to know about Me?

Needless to say I am often very confused. My mind is like a Rubik’s cube and my sense of self transient to the point where I am not even sure I am corporeal sometimes. I spend a lot of time in analytical reverie and therefore my attention span is very short so it’s difficult for me to feel interested in anything less than extreme. So if I seem like I don’t give a fuck. I probably don’t.

Or I care a lot more than I’d have you think.

...

If you’re ever unlucky enough to meet me in person you’ll probably find that I am a lot more amiable than I appear and most probably quite shy. [Lol. Sometimes.] This doesn’t mean I want to be your best fucking friend forever, I just believe that you should treat others how you’d want to be treated and I hate being treated like a cunt.
Don’t get me wrong, I do like meeting new people and I love making people laugh, but I’m far too neurotic for my own good and I really wouldn’t like to press that on anyone other than the people that have already been stupid enough to let me in (and I say that with all the affection in the world!)

You may be wondering why I’m telling you this but I find it more respectful to be honest and in my opinion there are too many people that try to aggrandize themselves over the internet to give the portrayal of perfection and I am far from perfect.
Though there are things about myself that I would like to change if I could I still believe that it is better to be erroneous otherwise the world we live in would become very tiresome and I averse the mundane much like I would a box of rotting fish heads on my doorstep. In any case our social paradigms make it incredibly strenuous for anyone to achieve perfection and considering what that really entails today I think I am quite thankful.

At the end of the day our flaws are unparalleled and incomparable, they are what separates us and I think that people could lead healthier lives if they were allowed to accept that rather than having pictures of super skinny girls and heavily muscled men shoved in their faces every time they open a magazine or turn on the T.V.

Anyway, I digress.

I am one small person in a massive universe and really don’t see myself as of any real importance in the grand scheme of things. I believe that though I may possess some unique quirks I am not special and I dislike the common human trait of needing to feel different. I don’t think a person’s worth is measured in Brownie points for being an ‘individual’ and people get so caught up in being ‘original’ that they completely lose sight of who and what they really are.
The human ego is astonishing. We feel the need to control and manipulate everything to make ourselves feel more secure because if our lives don’t play out as we planned then it’s like it’s all gone to waste, when really maybe we should just feel glad that we get to experience this.
Because when it comes down to it though we can try to dominate every aspect of our lives it’s really down to the actions of others as to whether or not we get what we want. You can after all, bid a horse to water but you can’t make him drink and I believe that I’m not so much an arbiter of my own destiny as I am a hedonist running around with guns blazing hoping I don’t shoot myself in the foot.

. M Y . P E R S O N A L I T Y .
I’m still not sure of who I am as a person, and I don’t pretend to. Our personalities change on a day to day basis and whether it’s a small change or a big one, we’re never exactly the same people we were yesterday.
Or in my case, a few hours ago.

Right now, I’m the kind of person who likes to roleplay on IMVU with deep fascinating vampire stories enriched with mysteries and romance, while enjoying a nice cup of peachy green tea, while occasionally looking outside the window and commenting on what a God awful day it is. Right now, I'm the kind of girl that misses the smell of the ocean air, and smell of white gardenia. With a heavy case of A.D.O.S. [Attention Deficiency OH SHINY!] Right now I am the kind of person that will laugh at all your stupid jokes just to make you feel smarter, unless they’re really bad, in which case I will look on you with condolence and give you a pat on the head, because right now I am the kind of person who will condescend to you for speaking nonsense.
Right now I feel completely insecure about myself but wouldn’t dare talk to you about it in person. Seriously, even if you came up to me and said ”I read on your blog that you’re feeling insecure, want to talk about it?” I would give you a big smile and tell you not to take the internet so literally.

And right now, in this moment, I guess I could say I am uncertain. Uncertain about life and how to spend or waste mine. Almost completely incapable of making decisions or more importantly maybe, making the right ones?

My world passes in a succession of images that skip like a damaged record between states of complete lucidity and lurid visions, thus my memories appear to me kind of like scenes in a film and I often have little palpable memory of what went on between them. I do try to improvise a lot of the time but mostly just have to accept that I have no valid logic and that I will never be a Doctor or a Lawyer or a gadget-clad super hero who stalks the streets at night dressed like a giant bat. Fortunately I think I can just about live with that as it seems much easier nowadays just to draw a few pictures of boobs and brand yourself an artist =D Hell yes!

And seriously, when you strip it down to its fundamentals are boobs any more artistic than taking a shit? Mebbe.

All jokes aside though I am a creative at heart and I find inspiration in everything (You know, stuff and junk) Art is my solace and I often feel that it’s the only thing I am truly akin with, the only thing that’s natural. My work is often focused on moments of torridity and I like to push boundaries and experiment with psychology, paradigms and paraphernalias because of the effect they have on our everyday lives and it helps me confront my fears about my future in society in a constructive way.
It means more to me than I could explain and without it I fear I’d be completely empty even though I still feel like no one will ever understand the way I see the world or the things I try to capture.
Even so I think for the most part I am as much a mystery to myself as anyone else.

I float in an spilled Inkwell, bleeding into a vision of something I can't feel with even a fifth of what I'd like to. My life is as fragile and expendable as the liquid that drips through the lips of an Orchid.
I'll live as in a dream and hope never to wake up.

I talk way too fucking much. My bad.

Loralei