The Fable.

Remember the scene in charlie and the chocolate factory when they are all in the boat....

Yes, the danger must be growing
For the rowers keep on rowing
And they're certainly not showing
Any signs that they are slowing

My head is the epitome of that place; there is no earthly way of knowing which way that I am going. This will not break me; another human will not consume the very essence of who I have fought so hard to become. Fuck you and the lies you bury yourself in. 

People will tell you exactly who they are, 

make sure you are listening or 

else you might find yourself living 

inside the lies you believe. 

Disclaimer: I miss you. 

But the you I miss would have fought for me. 

Instead, I am left here in seclusion; 

all I know is darkness now.

hush,now

But this is not wonderland and I am not alice. 

I have always wanted the happy ever after but at what cost? 

       The taut skin stretched across my body is my only defense to not having my 

        heart ripped from my chest; even bulletproof vests tend to fail. 

I no longer want to give, I want to take; 

                I want to take every piece of your soul and call it my own. 

The very essence of my being wants to break free from this vulnerability, 

each exposure maiming more than the last. 

                 I am done. I no longer want to fight, I want to flight. 

                         I am, as lonely as they come. As empty as they make them.

                         But I have come to the conviction that loneliness is sometimes, 

                         a beautiful thing. 

And I am terrified. 

Terrified that the things inside me are the things that will 

keep me from ever finding a home inside someone else.

For she was a stunning mystery. 

              She carried things deep inside her that no one has yet to understand. 

cyclical

I cannot say I buy into the whole everything happens for a reason drivel  

and I imagine life would be less painful if we could self-edit; 

there are so many moments and people I would cut. 

One click of the mouse and just like that 

the moment that changed everything can evaporate but alas, 

real life is unedited. 

There are so many pieces of my being that I suppress 

as a defense against everything and anyone. 

Concealing so much of myself can be terribly lonesome 

but after being disappointed so many times, 

why would I want to open my heart. 

The truth is, 

I want to believe in the human race again. 

I am drowning in a sea of ambiguity and each time I reach the surface 

a wave of doubt overcomes me;

I am forever waiting for breath or asphyxiation.

I want so much to survive. 

I have considered reprisal, amongst other acts of malevolence,

but only to realize how cowardly it would be 

and how even the slightest taste of vengeance would never erase the past. 

So, here I am, bleeding for all to see 

and the only thing I ask of you 

is to leave the bag of salt at the door. 

I want so much to open your eyes

                     'Cause I need you to look into mine

                               Tell me that you'll open your eyes

this too shall pass

Deception resides in my past, present, and I cannot help but to think that it will intwine itself into my future. I find myself no longer willing to allow mendacity to control my every thought because alas, we are only human. We never know what is around the corner, yet we continue to keep moving forward because we have faith in life. If I allow this kind of betrayal to constrain my essence, I am doing a disservice to the beautiful life I have been given. The heartache still lingers but each day my smile becomes more absolute, rather than a gesture to suppress the despondency inside. I will keep moving forward because I trust life will lead me to wherever it is that I am going and truth will continually reveal itself on this path.

I never saw it coming, I never thought I would be here. Yet, here I am, still standing.

I'll try to fix you.

I wish it were easier for me to talk. Just inhale, and let words fall.
But it has never and will never be an easy feat to speak so openly. I feel exposed when I allow myself to confess; awaiting the next bullet to penetrate through my taut skin. Writing is different, not easy, but different. If I could not write, I am unsure if anyone would hear me, the real me. I have this love/hate relationship with writing. It allows me to be nothing but honest, without apprehension. It also constrains me to the emotion I so willingly conceal from others. Integrity, something I try so hard to emulate, is intensely arduous for me to reveal aloud.

Just inhale, and let words fall.

Conviction.

I’m trying not to think about you, can’t you just let me be.

Suppression is not an easy feat but it seems I have mastered this ability well.

Head up, smile on, exude some sense of well-being
...rinse and repeat. If I miss a step, I’ll become that vulnerable girl;
I can’t be that girl. There is an overwhelming feeling of numbness permeating through my body; if only tears would come to wash away the hurt I no longer seem to endure. This path is leading me to a destiny of solitude; I need to relinquish the wall that never seems to collapse.

A life full of constant disappointment in humanity has jaded me.

I love but when the slightest taste of love convolutes my life,
I instantaneously evade the affect. How can I feel deserving of something so omnipotent when I continuously afflict the people around me for no reason other than because I am fearful.
I want to be better,
I want to love without apprehension,
I want to become the woman I know I can be but most of all,
I want to believe in life again.

Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life you were waiting for this moment to arise.

[an exert from my life]

Breathe in, tide out, breathe out, tide in. The beach is where I find quietude; chaos no longer exists. Life moves at a rapid pace but when my feet fall beyond the grains of the sand, everything is still. If ever there were a moment I denounced the essence of God, I can always find his love where the waves crash. But this journey was different from the others because the potency of his love filled my veins, as if I were a drug addict and his adoration was what I needed in order to survive.

To me, I do need God to survive. I cannot imagine waking up without an ounce of faith in my soul. I need to believe that there is an almighty being that loves me unconditionally and will wash away my immorality, as the waves wash away my footprints. There have been times when I can no longer feel my faith and lately I have felt it seethe slowly from my pores. I have started to lose myself in social extremities and having that moment on the beach showed me just how displaced I have become.

I cannot explain the emotion that overcame every vesicle in my body that night. As fast as I could feel the affect weighing my heart down, my knees hit the wet sand without contention. My body was no longer my own in that moment; his love was omnipresent. Every doubt befell and all I could know was his amour. The sin, the hate, and the deception were eradicated but his existence resonates.

Affected Mourning.

Do you ever have one of those days when you feel as if everything is wrong and the consciousness of right seems in a far away land... yeah, I am having one of those days today. There have been many deaths in my family, not concrete deaths but intangible; maybe absolute dissolution would make this easier.


I have searched every indentation for even so much as a glint of hope; it was all but one lie short of truth. I must have been asking for too much when I wanted nothing more than a scent of your love. I have watched myself die a thousand times and again; your abandonment is tormenting every fiber within. I know people, the people that have no idea who I am, will read this and think nothing more than " poor, poor little dramatic girl." These people will never know the affliction this poor little girl harbors every time she comes across a father and his child.


To fight with my father at this point would be better than this, this interminable life of desolation. I could understand if I were his only daughter but I am not; it's as if the day he let me go he started a new family and forgot to tell me I was no longer a part of his heart. I wish someone would have told me how difficult it would be; feeling worthy of anything after a father's denial is an understatement.


Yes, I am that little girl with "daddy issues" and this is a battle I fight every day of my life. Countless times over, I have pushed family and friends away; the fear of closeness without dissolution fuses in my veins. I know how far I have come, I know how far I have gone and one day my scars will perish, that will be the day I realize the heartache was all worth it. The past is said to be left without afterthought,but this cannot withhold veracity when our past haunts the streets we walk unrelentingly.

End of the Beginning.

I feel like I am breaking; glass imploding through my taut skin.
There are things I want to say without suppressing in adamancy
But the pride I wallow in seems to asphyxiate the words I long to hear.

Hush, don't cry now.
Tears soaked through my blue eyes,
While I felt the damage you had done pulsating in my veins.
You know how people always phrase " how do you sleep at night?"
Really, how do you sleep at night; i'd like to know.

I am not conditioned to express my emotion in a conducive manner.
My past permeates without an ounce of absolution; please just leave.
Five years have come and gone but the wounds of your desertion are fresh;
Reopening every time you decide to play make believe.

I have to make a choice and this will change me infinitely.
Too many windows have opened and closing all of them will bring serenity.
But disclosing a door could bring a sense of love I have longed for since you left.
I refuse to become who you are regardless of the decision;
Living a life of silent desolation without heartache is alarmingly erroneous.




Contempt loves the silence
It thrives in the dark
With fine winding tendrils
That strangle the heart

Emphatic Lucidity.

it's been a long time waiting,
such a long, long time
and i can't stop smiling,
oh i can't stop now

You build these walls for years, barricading every sentiment of vulnerability that has ever pulsed through your veins, with this inane idea that it will save you from that heartache you’ve come to know all too well. And without warning, a spark ignites the exact capillary leading directly to your heart; the wall never had a chance.

I feel like I am in this infinite state of euphoria and at any given moment I am bound to smack my head on the translucent pavement. This is not delusive, this is tangible without constrain. No melodramatics or expectations, just raw emotion and desire. I refuse to compare this to anything else because everything that once was ceases to exist now.

If I am to get burned in the end, I will buoyantly walk through the fire a thousand times over; cowardice was never really my thing. The stakes are high and folding isn’t an option when a pair of hearts are on the line. So here I am, indubitably exposed, promising to give you all that I am without indecision or duplicity. I am not colorblind, the world is black and white, take me now or take me never.

Replacement.

My last entry ceases to exist now. I wrote that in a moment of weakness; the little girl I used to know came out to play. As a human, affect tends to take control at times but I have never been one to let a sense of despondency wash over me, no matter how broken I may feel. I took a step back and had one of those "WTF am I doing" instances of lucidity. I want the fantasy, not the reality. Eight months later and a simple goodbye never looked so good but alas, the day has come where adieu is the only way. I imagine The Ting Ting's song, Shut Up and Let Me Go ,playing in the background...I ain't freakin', I fakin' this, shut up and let me go...and sovereignty takes control again.

Summer is on the horizon and my personal summer school will be subject to acting and designing. Yes, that's right kids I said acting and designing. What can I say, I am a regular entrepreneur with many aspirations awaiting to illuminate not only my soul but hopefully yours. The summer of 2009 looks very auspicious for this 22 year old.

Have the courage to live. Anyone can die.

And just before she hangs her head to cry, I sing to her a lullaby.

“Wait, wait, wait! So you’re telling me that I should play an imponderable game in order to woo a man? And where would said elusiveness get either of us in the end?”

These are the concluding arguments that have perpetuated in my mind after a conversation involving dating etiquette or in this case, lack there of, earlier today. I have mindlessly assessed time and time again why women act that way or why a man plays that game but neither seem to produce a prolific alibi. Honestly, where have most of you gotten playing the push and pull dance? Heartache, imprudence, idiocy, shamefulness… and those are just a few of the terms that come to mind in regards to the aftermath of standing in a “grey” area with another.

Ah, yes. I became victim to abiding by the rules of “He’s Just Not That Into You” awhile back but then I had an epiphany not too long ago- Why am I paying for a book illustrating a man’s adverse behavior when I should already be aware of the signals? There are not enough self-help novels in the world to help the opposite sexes figure one another out but it does not take a genius to know the difference between acceptable behavior and detrimental action.

Most women put too much emphasis on finding “the man,” and this is an idea that I refuse succumbing to because love cannot be forced nor should a woman embody her own happiness into that of a man’s presence. I was that girl, that foolish young thing hanging on every word a man whispered in my ear; silly girl, tricks are for kids. I know my worth and that is more than most can say but by God it took me awhile to get here.

I find it amusing that today’s society has the most difficult time saying what they mean when nine out of ten times that kind of integrity would have saved you from whatever affliction might have accrued afterwards. If you’re out there getting down on the dating dance floor than let loose! An abundance of time could be saved between the two parties if one were to just convey their wants in the beginning.

In the last year, I have started to become a woman I admire; reputable and desirable. If I like you, I will let you know but I never expect anything to be defined in that moment of vulnerability. I cannot control the way another feels but I can command the respect I deserve; defenseless yet adamant.

Sometimes loneliness ensues and you long for the butterflies but love and relationships are not to be contrived, so you keep living. My advice to you all would be to tell whomever your dating what you’re feeling during the moment it palpitates through your being, if it is not mutual than let go because so much of life is wasted on waiting when everything we want in this world is just right outside our comfort zone.

Cachet.

I find the whole dating scene tragically amusing. I blame feminists. Men had it right throughout the fifties; women became carnivorous. Believe it or not, men had the competency to ask a woman out without all the absurdity. Push a man too callously, he is sure to fall and sure enough he did. Men have befallen into a destitute of skepticism. Equality you ask for? Well,ask and you shall receive ladies; complacency is hardly plausible now.

I am drowning in a sea filled of games and duplicity.


Let us play make believe, shall we?
I like to think of myself as the stripper in the complex that is dating. In Between the whores and the prudes of the empirical world, somewhere lies my stance. My vulnerability will expose itself to a certain extent but quickly diminishes if fortitude wavers. Unlike whores, who allow their every extremity to show within the first few days; these are your so-called "stage five clingers". Or take the prudes on the other hand, exposure to them would be shaving during the winter; your so-called "feminists." One becomes jaded seeing this kind of deplorable behavior occur constantly within the confines of society. One of my more treasured attributes is that of my integrity; I refuse to lose site of who I am and what I have to offer as others tend to do over time.

Narcissism has wrapped its avarice carriage around the minds of women everywhere. The only thing left for the ones that survived the wreckage is to saddle up and face the music. I want to witness a world where people can say what they mean and mean what they say without contention. Allow yourself to become defenseless but make sure it is someone worth sacrificing your vulnerability for because exposure was never for the feeble.

"That's Brittany, tough and vulnerable. She's the real thing."

Regurgitation[Past Posts].

March 3rd

Man is least himself when he talks in his own person.
Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth.


Why is it so difficult for humankind to say what they mean and mean what they say? In a megalopolis filled of aspiring actors, one is jaded when the slightest sense of an indubitable attribute is presented in any given situation. Sincerity has become this lackadaisical parody.

During the evolution of our species, humanity learned to react strongly to stimuli that could be life-threatening, including naturally dangerous environments; said retorts are known as phobias. Like phobias, a state of integrity is an unknown atmosphere to most since this stimulus can be detrimental to one’s life. As a society, we have conditioned people to believe that if they hide bits and pieces of their true selves than that will ultimately bring prosperity.

Cowardice to show your being to someone is deplorable and improvident. This idea of self deceit is almost whimsical; playing a part for so long will inevitably lead you to becoming the fool you have already portrayed yourself to be. If someone cannot withhold your truth without contention than let them go; validity needs to be set free in order to find its wings.


Feb.26th

Look up nonentity in a dictionary, there you will find a photograph of money and if this image does not expose itself than you aren’t looking with benevolent eyes. Do you ever ponder with the idea of the dollar? I find the argument to be much like deliberating the concept of death in a sense. Our society befalls to the scrutiny of money as if it was vital and this is a supposition I have yet to be able to wrap my mind around without cognitive contemplation.

What is the difference between the ten dollar bill in your right hand and the blank sheet of paper in your left? One might retort with “everything” or “nothing” but neither response would suffice. Yes, money is substantial in regards to livelihood; I am not naïve, just a modern day philosopher. Capital holds importance because we, as a society, have a unity of compliance towards its utility.

He who has the most in the end does not win; he dies with entirely too many commodities stemmed from avidity. Although money evolves into luxury, money is not equivalent to one’s own happiness and society has lost sight of this essential absoluteness. You must get money to chase you, but never let it catch up.

Feb.24th

Declaration: This passage did not derive from a boy but could be implemented into future relationship ventures, if you catch my drift. This is a testimonial to integrity so to speak...

So seldom I hear others say not to regret the decisions one makes in life for everything happens for a reason. I understand that inauspicious circumstances arise from time to time but what I cannot seem to grasp is why I befall victim to more than most. I would never wish the pain I have experienced in my past upon my worst enemy and maybe that is my implicit problem. I care too much for people who care too little but for some quaint reason I cannot seem to shake the hope that one day someone will fight for me the way I have constantly fought for others.


It is a slap in the face when you put your full veracity in a relationship only to come out looking like the fool who spoke too soon. Time and time again, especially this past year, I have succumbed to confiding in people that were too self-involved to see the anguish they were inflicting. Beseeching validity should never be a game; it was never very difficult to find my truth. I should have never invested my heart but it has never been in my character to meet in fierce contention.



Despite the abstruse way it all descended I will never blacken my heart with regret because this life is worth living through the good times and dire times. I refuse to allow your deceit to compromise my disposition any longer. Forgiving is never easy nor should anyone have to condone such behavior from people you believe to be honorable but in order to breathe I must absolve you from your affliction now.



A cloud does not know why it moves in such a direction and at such a speed...It feels an impulsion...this is the place to go now. But the sky knows the reasons and the patterns behind all clouds, and you will know, too, when you lift yourself high enough to see beyond horizons.

Feb. 23rd

I don't know if we each have a destiny,
Or if we're all just floatin' around accidental-like on a breeze.
But I, I think maybe it's both.

Two weeks without my lover
I'm in this boat alone
Floating down a river named emotion
Will I make it back to shore
Or drift into the unknown
Further down the river

When I marvel at the aspiring words from one of my favorite films and one of my beloved songs, I ruminate with thoughts of fate. Are we destined to a predetermined path or do we float along in a state of unadvised imminence? If we have a fore destined future, does certainty lie within another or are we to seek our finality in solitude?


Devine decree would be amiable if one were to know that their love would not wither in a plight of inconspicuous resonance. But alas, that would defeat the remonstrance that one is prone to a fixed fortune.


Destiny and chance co-exist within my world and fear is a noun we have all become very aware of throughout our lives. I am conscious of my harbor of vitality but apprehension towards my affection, my heart, and my fate will never entangle itself into my very essence of existence. Whether you believe humans to glide among the clouds or inevitably fall into a deliberate groove, know that trepidation should never consume your willingness to breathe in every adventure life has to offer.

Feb.22nd

I left for Vegas with 21 years in my past and came back home cognizant of my future. There are so many ambitions I have pushed aside for another day but that's just it, there may never be a tomorrow. Enough is enough. It took 22 years to get to a locality where I can embrace my worth without contention in hopes that someone, somewhere, will envelop every ounce of totality I have to offer now.

Yes, my past has made me who I am today but I will no longer allow it to define who I am as a being. I want to trust without eluding the truth.For so long now I have danced with the idea of love; apprehensive towards the slightest twitch of a butterfly in my stomach during the past year. I want to fall into unrelenting passion, I am ready to give it all I've got. Will you be the one to catch me in my state of concupiscence declivity?