I am happiest when... I have no friggin' idea...

I've a lot of things to say... mostly about friendship and how compli-fuckin-cated it is. There are shades of gray... and even pink. Damnit. Nothing is just "as is". Everything is complex and one has to be well trained in reading between the freakin' lines just to stay afloat.

I've never understood why something so... BASIC should be so... COMPLEX. Why everything is more than meets the eye. Ch..ch..ch..ch..chuchew... (I suck at spelling sound effects...) No seriously... it's tiring maintaining friendships... it's a lot of work. Mostly, it's rewarding enough but Jesus Christ in neon leotards, most of the time it's just not fuckin' worth it. Yeah, I swore.. go... tell the bishop. GO. NOW. Before you become as WICKED and SINFUL as me. Tsk tsk.

Sigh. Yeah I'm bitter. Can't you tell? No? I know a grocery store that sells additional IQ points. You might wanna go and buy some first.

Anyhoo... alright so I'm bitter. I'm also spitting mad. No... I'm not actually spitting. That would be rude. And I'm not an alpaca. I keep digressing. Mostly because I'm still trying to compose what I really want to say.

And what I want to say is... uhm... (No Bans, I did not just give you the dirty finger... shaddap) What I want to say is that while it is HARD work to maintain friendships, the friends who are worth fighting for, who're worth slashing your wrists for, (Gawd, I hope no one asks me to do that... I have no plans of mucking up my beautiful beautiful tattoos in the name of friendship...) who're always there no matter what, who're on your side, regardless; those people make it all worth the crap and the tears and the effort.

I've a handful of real friends. A handful. Friends that have gone through the worst with me. Friends who've experienced being downwind when I passed gas and didn't care. (We all fart damnit, so do you... so don't even start...) Friends who despite the GINORMOUS list of reasons to hate my guts, still love me.

But because I'm not rich, not famous (infamous maybe... I'm the ULTIMATE Bad Influence... ), not gorgeous (pfft, if I was gorgeous, then I'd be rich, right? Like I said, buy some additional IQ already...) Anyway... because I'm not all that, I can't buy them houses and cars and fancy shit and all that other la-dee-dah stuff as my way of saying thank you for staying with me all these years...

One thing I can give them though, and I seriously believe it's worth more than 10 Bentleys or Jags... is my undying love. (Cue single tear falling slowly from right eye...)

I'm serious. I love them all. I love them enough that I'd do anything they ask of me. Like step back. Like come back to church. Like stop having sex (no... wait... ok... this is under SERIOUS consideration). Like parting with my beloved plush toys. I love them period.

And if that's not enough. Then it's not. When it starts being enough, I'll be here. Waiting. In the meantime... Ch..ch..ch..ch..chuchew...

And then there was you...

I love you. I really do. Thank you for coming into my life.

When I'm with you, I find my balance again.

When I'm with you, I crave for nothing more.

When I'm with you, breathing is so much easier.

What the heck took you so long? :)

It all comes down to this.

I don't know what to feel. I'm not sure if I should be flattered or pissed off or nostalgic. You all know how much I love to click on links. So, today, because I was bored, I clicked on some links. And it brought me to the multiply page of somebody I used to hang out with. Hell, we were bullshit buddies and then some. He knows every single thing about me... my dreams, my passion, my deepest fears... we were best friends. But life threw a curve ball and we're estranged now....

So anyway, so I clicked the link and I landed on his page. And of course you know that I'd be clicking on his page links like heck. I did and that's when the shit hit the fan.

I saw my poetry, my essays, my rants... on his blog... and all without any indication that I wrote them. He even changed a few things on one poem. Here's the link.

Ok, so he posted one story that's included in my book. That's something.... I think.

And it doesn't help that I miss him. We had SO MUCH fun together, it was criminal.

Bogart, damnit, I miss you.

Oh but wait, there's more.

Thought I disappeared off the face of the planet huh? Well not quite. I've just been really busy surviving and getting my crap all straightened out.

I'm still mucking about with THE boy. Although, there's a new boy from work I'm also sorta mucking about with. It's nothing serious. So far, we're just smoking buddies. And lunch buddies. And... life is too fucking complicated for it to go farther than that.

Also... new tattoos. Got 2 new ones. One's huge and the other's tiny. I'll get better pictures next time. So... 7 in all. The boy also got a new one. One huge ass dragon to complement his back piece. He's getting a tiger next. Like I said, you really can't stop at one.

That's a bunch of cherry blossoms going all the way down the inside of my left forearm. Hurt like a mofo when I got it done. The other one's a star. On the ring finger of my left hand.

What else... I think I lost my passion for toys. It saddens me that I don't have the desire to go look for itty bitty plushies anymore. Oh well. Maybe when everything in my life falls into place, I'll get excited about toys again.

I gotta scram. My tattoos are hurting like hell.

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I'm taking a break from staring at Garver, Knoxville and Cook. Eyecandy. Yum. So sinfully delicious.

Actually, I'm online for a coupla reasons. I needed to check my emails, I needed my fill of eyecandy and I had to get out of the house before I go insane. I feel so cooped up already. Sure it was kickass to spend the last few days with the boy, just hanging out, watching movies, lounging about, making out like bandits and various other illicit activities, BUT, I was starting to get all antsy and I didn't want to wait for myself to start bouncing off the walls... so... here I am.

I also need to start scouting for new tattoo designs. I'm itching to get inked again. I'm an ink addict I know, but hey, once you start getting your skin poked and prodded and shredded for the sake of art, it's hard to stop. I told myself I'll stop after my last back piece BUT soon as Jeff was done, I was already thinking of the next one. Oooh that rhymed.

So yeah... the next one will be my last one.... until the next one. Haha. Seriously, I dunno when I'm gonna stop getting inked. Maybe once Garver carves one on me. Maybe then I'll quit. Or maybe not. It all depends.

I really should stop talking about my tats already. It's just that they look so ppurrrdy! I love them so much. Ok... this post is taking way to long to finish. I keep getting sidetracked by Knoxville. Damn him.

By the way...