Coworker – “Okay so you know those big black ox that live under the ground in Lord of the Rings?”
Me – “…”
Me – “You mean Orcs?”
Coworker – “Are you sure it’s not ox?”
Me – “… Pretty sure.”
So one of the big head-honcho trainers for the company works here at the Calgary clinic, and he and I talk every few days to catch up with each other.
Today, he came into my office and said, very chipperly, “So I was just at the convenience store across the street to pick up some yummy snacks but you won’t eat them so I got you something else!” and he handed me one of those toy eggs that you submerge in water, wait a day, and out pops a toy. In this case, I will be growing a lizard! I was super excited, not only at the fun prospect of growing a toy, but at how random and kind my coworker was to think of me and buying it for me.
So I obviously couldn’t wait until I got home to grow the little guy, so I instantly plopped him into the mug of water I had on my desk. And… it floated. What the hell? How am I supposed to put it in a container “with enough water to completely cover the egg” if the damn thing floats!? What a conundrum. It looks like I will need to do some MacGyver-ing to keep the egg covered in water all weekend so I come in on Monday morning to a new friend!
With my history of having males as friends, should know better by now than to think things can just be strictly platonic except in rare cases. I do have a few (one I am lucky enough to work with) who are fantastic, and offer great insight into the mind and mentality of men my age. But then there are those who seem like wonderful friends until things get a little more serious, then all of a sudden they are throwing a hissy-fit and pouting because I won’t sleep with them or give in to their sexual whims.
How old do we have to be for things to not always be about sex? Or is it just always like that, so I have to learn to deal with it? because that would be ridiculous. It’s like… Even if you are upset for a minute because you were shot down, can’t you grow a pair and just be my FRIEND (sorry, no benefits)?
Gah! Men are so damn frustrating. I give up on you lot.
Hand in mine, into your icy blues
And then I’d say to you we could take to the highway
With this trunk of ammunition too
I’d end my days with you in a hail of bullets
I’m trying, I’m trying
To let you know just how much you mean to me
And after all the things we put each other through and
I would drive on to the end with you
A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full
And I feel like there’s nothing left to do
But prove myself to you and we’ll keep it running
But this time, I mean it
I’ll let you know just how much you mean to me
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of everything
I’m trying, I’m trying
To let you know how much you mean
As days fade, and nights grow
And we go cold
Until the end, until this pool of blood
Until this, I mean this, I mean this
Until the end of…
But this time, we’ll show them
We’ll show them all how much we mean
As snow falls on desert sky
Until the end of every…
All we are, all we are
Is bullets I mean this
As lead rains, will pass on through our phantoms
Forever, forever
Like scarecrows that fuel this flame we’re burning
Forever, and ever
Know how much I want to show you you’re the only one
Like a bed of roses there’s a dozen reasons in this gun
And as we’re falling down, and in this pool of blood
And as we’re touching hands, and as we’re falling down
And in this pool of blood, and as we’re falling down
I’ll see your eyes, and in this pool of blood
I’ll meet your eyes, I mean this forever
Once, there was a caterpillar named Love. She feasted on delicious leaves day after day, and grew big and strong. Soon enough she was so bursting with happiness that she was ready to make a rainbow chrysalis. She laid in waiting, resting comfortably on the tree that had nourished her for years.
What she didn’t know was that the three she grew on and fulled up with was ripe with deceit and sturdy with falsities. When she emerged from her slumber, so ready to greet the morning with beauty that only confidence brings, she found that her wings were delicate ebony lace instead of the striking ribbons of rainbow that she had imagined. Etched in them was darkness and malice, and she felt the same blackness inside of her as well.
Instead of Love flying into the warm rays of the sun and flourishing, the lies and half-truths that she had built her very foundation of life on took their toll. Ever so slowly, her wings curled in on themselves, tearing as easily as the gossamer spiderwebs that she had never noticed surrounded her. She found a quiet place to be alone, and there, Love died, broken and bleeding.
I can’t fix this from a phone
I’m sorry you feel so alone
It’s like I told you, “You’re better off without me, I’m sick of saying sorry.”
So far from home
You keep calling and complaining that I just don’t care
Would you say that if I was there?
It’s that picture you keep painting that’s causing your tears
I could set you straight if you were here
Last night you held me in your arms,
though they weren’t long enough to
wrap around me and my baggage.
But you did your best
as I traced the stories down your arms
and splayed across your chest.
Now, as Dallas pours through
the speakers in my mind,
I cannot wrap my head around
how very long I have dreamt of you,
and wished to be one of the
pages in your life.
I know that there is no future,
just a few scattered pictures,
quickly scribbled love notes,
and whispered conversatons.
I may not be the colour in your tattoos,
but you are the outline of my heart.
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