The Life of a Premature Metro Goddess

How does one find their way through the maze that is a relationship when wearing a blindfold? Do you reach for the walls around you and pray to reach the exit, do walk in endless circles until you're too tired to move? No, you reach out to the other person, trapped along side you and find your way together. Being in a long distance relationship makes this whole process much worse, its like being trapped in a maze, blindfolded and not reaching out for someone to guide you, but listening to words over a loud speaker, trying to interpret what is being said while remembering to make it out alive. You can not have a partner when you don't give up all the information. You can't make plans, establish a life together, and get through all of that with only 85%. The boyfriend has this horrible habit of leaving things out, important facts or pieces of information that could not only prevent complicated misunderstanding but work to smooth those out so much faster. And not only does he ...

Why do men feel the need to lie? Why do they feel the need to do this even when you are no longer in the midst of an all out emotional and ethical war with the feelings you have for each other and the feelings you aren't supposed to acknowledge as existing? Simply stated for all to read, never ever, EVER EVER, EVER EVER EVER get into a relationship with someone you work with, but I digress. Is it some instinctual or biological function, some chemical release that creates a constancy of the need for you to tell me something that is so far from the truth that if we were in the same room we both would be thinking "wow that's a liar" with an accompanying expression plastered on our faces. I ask this because of the "departure". So the certain someone whom shall remain anonymous, whom should have remained a coworker sees me in the hall, this is followed by brief, work related small talk as I'd hope to keep it as such and then the departure Example 1: ...

I shame my title, Premature Metro Goddess. All those things I spoke of , of life and craziness, living to the extremes, just living... and now I am my work. I am a Career Specialist, I work with high school students, I help them see the forest in the midst of all the tress, and I help them develop that dream of "What am I, and Who will I be?". Yet someone in all of that I've lost sight of the forest for all those trees. I long for all those things that we thought came after the diploma. I long for the shimmer of it all, the glowing, multi faceted expanse of things that I saw in front of me that have somehow faded to a dim light shining subordinate next to the glow of my computer screen. Upon my initial analysis of things I lived under the assumption that at this point I would be a screaming poet with words flowing like honey, a staunch feminist rallying for our rights, guitar playing on the balcony late nights under the moon, dinners lingering into the next day, d...

What goes around comes around? I'm listening to Justin Timberlake and in one of those moods for writing. Is that true, are all those old sayings of retribution, karma, and putting it out in the universe true?

I heard this song today and it reminded me of something... I want to download it but can't find it..grr. So as not to forget it, I'll keep it here. don't mistake me for a fool it's never been easy for me to lie and it's hard on me hard on me it's so easy for you to say goodbye when i don't know how to walk away from you i don't know how to not turn around i was lost and you were found i can hold you but that don't mean you're mine breathe you in only to exhale but you revived me revived my heart only to watch it fail now i don't know how to walk away from you i don't know how to not turn around i was lost and you were found i don't know how to walk away from you

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the things I disliked were residual emotions of that situation. Maybe he's good and I was right in the first place. Maybe **FireFly**

I haven't blogged in a while, haven't really spoke of how I was feeling, and I'm feeling a lot at the moment. I am a bit confused, as it were. I have this horrible habit of caring too much for people, all people whom I allow to enter my life. As a personal flaw I must admit it is a great one to have, yet as a personal flaw it is hell for working through emotionally. I had a relationship with someone I should not have and whom I should have, all at the same time...hence my confusion. I am in love with someone and romantically indifferent to the other someone whom I should have left alone. We have established a pretty good working relationship as well yet there is still something that I can't put my finger on. I bump into him, I see his phone number and I completely forget how I DON'T feel about him, and succumb to some illegitimate urge to talk, speak, listen, or whatever it is he needs or wants. I hate that. I hate forgetting all the things I dislike about ...

I have come to the conclusion that I talk to much...about myself...way too much. A while ago I was commenting to the best friend that a certain individual in my life never calls for good things anymore, he only calls to go into these lengthy dissertations about the "woe is me" nature of his life; I listen, nod to myself much as I'm sure a therapist would do while also charging by the hour, and then the conversation ends. No hourly payment, just the complete joy of knowing that I am his complaint station : \ So recently when I began calling the best friend with complaints and worries it came to me that I was in some way becoming just like that individual, but why? What is it that I talk about? Him for starters the rich complexities of our relationship...you know the whole "started out like a beautiful plan ride add a touch of turbulence, and BOOM crashed and burning". But most recently and what will become the main focus of this entry: My friend, who lives...

9/26/2007 I wrote this lengthy entry on why I was apprehensive about posting certain things to my blog. Probably because I think too much, I over analyze, and I'm constantly concerned with making sure I'm understood... but whatever. I need all that space to be filled with silence. I'd rather have nothing, than nothing disguised as something. -Like A Thief In the Night They say I write like a thief; take a piece of those men from my pen to this page a chronicle remembering all the mistakes I made. Like that sweat off your brow taste that sweet from your mouth I let you go south.... from my pen to this page. This golden honey smells like spices and sage. Must be a king or a mage Cuz he's got me glazed over and swaying to his beat In this African Ass Heat... From my pen to this page. Finding ways not to want him as he comes and he goes. And he comes as I leave him from my pen to this page. Why shouldn't I be heated burning red hot embers ...

9/24/2007 I have blogging fear. What does that mean you ask? Despite the fact that I created this little place on the web for myself in order for people to better understand who I am, and the life I've come to exist within, I have a fear of my blog being read. To go a little deeper, I am a writer. I am a poet. When I write I reach deep within myself and pull out every inch, every ounce, every crumb of emotion that could even begin to express what it is that I might want to say. I am honest. That is the essential core of everything I write or say but sometimes it is quite possible that my honesty, or the presence of my emotions over time displayed visually in a textual format has the ability to be 1. Misinterpreted, 2. Over analyzed, 3. Taken out of context. My worst fear is censuring myself because I'm afraid of the power of my words, but then that is why I write because of the power of my words so to deny that would be some form of self directed hypocrisy...and I rant on a...

I am different. I never claimed to be anything but. I am a collage of hometowns and lifestyles, music and messages, emotions and expressions, and all those things between. You know me when you see me, unless you think you know what you can't really see. I am waterfront walks, penny candy, toes between the grass on a summer afternoon. I have sat with my Matriarch amongst the trees, and sat with my thoughts beneath the stars. I am the words and the wisdoms that make me to be....a sibling, a songbird, a "silent storm". I've been teaching and taught to, bringing and brought to, learning and learned through all of these things. I've been kissed and the kisser, the miss makes them miss her, the turns take and twist her in this game we call life. I recall all my answers, the fire walker and the dancer, and yet still it remains that you think you know me. You can't. Couldn't begin to fathom the intricate web of this spider's game. Not one d...

Maybe I'm just tired.... Tired of tending this loose end, this frayed edge, this split end. I'm tired of determining my place amongst your expectations, I'm tired of playing with ups and downs I'm tired of this manic situation All I want is breathing time All I need is what's necessary to such But I cannot find much of those things here Everything is so heavy, Everything is so thick. This foggy abyss surrounds me And I'm not moving in Not moving out A fish out of water, I flounder... Struggle to keep my head above When its coming at me in every direction. Calm me, soothe me, move me. Coming at me from every direction. Touch me, tease me, loose me. Yet coming from no direction at all. I fall back in time, Asleep in thought of mind. I fall... I quiet. I fall... I let go. I fall... I fall.... I fall... FiREfly

If this world were different, and not perfect, because that type of existence is not allotted to us; if this world were different I would answer yes. When you look at me and the words flow from your lips I would smile to myself, that smile would spread across my face, then the entirety of my being and I would say "yes". But then this world is no different than it were a moment ago, and within the moments I have learned the harsh and jagged difficulties of this difference. I've learned that sometimes time moves things at a pace that can only be seen through the forgotten images of our still memories, because moving so fast living in the moments can seem almost a dream. I have learned that time makes us wait for things that we cannot face, that we cannot have, and that we want in urgent immediacy. I don't want the stability of constancy, I did not sign up for those things, and this is neither the time nor the place. I want the hesitancy of lips touching lips, ...

I'm on a break... a break from BFEBF. I haven't done this writing thing in quite sometime and yet something is stirring inside of me once again and it becomes so very necessary. This hiatus if you will initiated itself after months and months of thought and pondering. My life as a Premature Metro Goddess was described in great length in the initial entry on this space and somehow I've managed to evolve on that path while at the same time adjusting to a life I never expected. I fell hard and fast for someone I never expected. I loved and love him, and yet that was not enough. Not enough because I had not expected to be in that place at this time. I come from a place where I was ready to live for me, do for me, and bask in the selfish joy of being 22. I come from that place yet have been living for a while in a completely different location, one of compromise, commitment, and the duality of a two sided coin. Don't get me wrong, this is not to say that I did not ado...