Dough-Dough

What flavor is revenge, if so sweet?
Desiring the experience of another’s taste
Expecting foreign flavor


What you long to savor has
Caved insides;
Cooked to the wrong degree
The surrounding shell deceived
Familiar,
It’s been tasted before


Still left with the bitter rabid foam
Of hate,
Infatuation
And there is no palette cleanser

Life Update: Little kids LOVE Teddy-D

Originally uploaded by theadorable

I only like attractive children that laugh at my jokes, and these little twin girls Lea and Dina...Oh how they laughed at my jokes!


I kept telling Lea to make the kissy face, but she whined "I don't know howwww!"


I know, we were very unattractive doing the pouty face...



I think we shop at the same store!

J'ai Rêvé Que Tu Viendrais (I Dreamed That You Would Come)

A circus act,
balancing between fingers
Taken in
as an acquired taste, released
Freud’s “oral fixation”
calming nerves.

your
remnants

falling

cooling

like the magma after a volcanic eruption
carrion,
passed around unknowingly by
soles, tips, heels
disintegrating, disappearing
like the blown-off wish of a dandelion clock
leaving behind only the taste transferred to my mouth
A
social evolution
Experiencing my compulsion for him
through his for you.

Please Don't Blame Her; Life Turned Her That Way

This NY summer humidity is my hair's worst nightmare.
This season, in general, is not a season I ever look forward to. The days and nights move equally; sluggishly.

I don't like to move. I don't move. Lots of times I decide to "mole it" and stay indoors, leaving me with way too much time for contemplation, leading to realizations I didn't intend to come up with at the beginning of the day. Realizations turn to irrational feelings and suddenly I'm declining everyone's phone calls and sad soul music is my best friend.
I tend to go into mole-mode more often than I'd like to admit. It's a known but never spoken about understanding between my friends and I.
They call-
I stare at the phone-
I don't answer it-
I might answer it later if they call again, depending on my mood and then make up some shit that they know I wasn't really doing at the time of their call.

I'm the kind of person I dislike the most; the kind that takes out internal frustration on others by being flakey and neglectful.
I swear, I'm working on it though.
Until then it's just me drying my eyes in front of my giant floor fan, listening to my sweet soul music...The only thing that could feel it just the same way.