cold sweats, cigarettes

You wake in the night, in a cold sweat, the beads resting on your brow. Rattling chains haunt dreamed dreams while possibilities suffocate the rest. The regrets you had never had have the best of you now; she lays next to you, her soft breaths fill your ears, her warmth fills the bed, her scent fills the air, yet nothing fills your heart. Edgeless shadows creep along the wall, sometimes dancing, sometimes deathly still. The crickets chirp and the breeze blows and the night sleeps. Sleep, she evades you, yet you try to chase her, because you've always liked the chase. Your hollow heart mimics heartbeats, your eyes open wide. In desperation you settle for a cigarette, anything but this. The flicker of fire makes your eyes flinch, the click of the lighter dents the thick silence. You inhale, the smoke touches your teeth, your tongue, your throat, your lungs. You taste nothing, release, and watch the smoke vanish into black. Still nothing. Tonight you can't taste the cigarette on your lips, or tobacco on your tongue, even the sweat against her skin. You puff and billow through the empty night, in an empty home, left with the flavour of regret to fill your empty heart.

"every love story has a beginning"

"Once upon a time there was a little girl who wandered 

from one strange land to the next.

She never hoped for family and children

like all the other girls,

only to love and be loved in return.

Just to know what it feels like.

But because she loved wandering

she could never find a reason to stop.

Therefore she never fell in love.

And no one fell in love with her. 

Then she met a boy and paused. 

They quickly fell in love. 

Then he got scared.

He tossed her out.

Like smelly garbage"

The End 

Have you ever had that friend who is always going out on dates, gushing about some silly boy that she met while out eating lunch, maybe at Borders, or at the dog park, or out having drinks, or while his horrible date was in the bathroom? That friend who tells you horror stories of dates that made them pay for the entire meal, dates that physically abused them on their first night out, dates that showed up drunk, or stoned, or just whopped it out in public? I'm not proud to say this, but I am that friend. Of course this was more so in my early twenties when I was more foolhardy, naive, and willing to give even the worst a go. My dating style has changed more towards tamed, and much less eclectic; I have learned to say no, I have learned to probe more gracefully, and I have learned when to walk away.

How did I end up here again? When I was in my wholly blissful two year relationship with my Mr-Right-Now, I was happy to have escaped from the dating scene. I never missed that initial meeting; the awkward art of the two person dance in which which one agrees to converse with a complete stranger (who by all means could be a complete psychopath killer, an STD ridden womaniser, or one's long lost relative), the should-I-give-out-my-number-right-away game or the should-I-take-his-number-and-decide-later, and finally the task of saying "no thanks" in a nice way, because after talking to them for fifteen minutes you know that they're effin' crazy!

I especially didn't miss the exhausting process of reaching familiarity with a complete stranger. Trying to complete the profile of a person with the seemingly petty details of their life in the first few awkward conversations can be tough; "I'm going to my little sister's baseball game this weekend" (Good family guy), "I love being outdoors and playing tennis" (What is he going to think when I tell him I avoid the sun like a vampire because I'm scared of skin cancer? "I'm a vegan" (Mmm foie gras, veal, lamb chops, raw horse sashimi!), "I've never left the States" (Boring and unadventurous; possible clinger), "Your Japanese?! Actually, all of my ex-girlfriends were Japanese. It's not preference, just coincidence" (yellow-fevered, run away!), "I accidentally killed this dog when I was a kid. It has traumatised me" (Serial killer. HOT).


I think I've gotten a bit rusty at picking up the subtle cues from men. It has become harder for me to define what a date is; nowadays at least half of the dates I go on are dates I get tricked into. This one time, a guy friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go to the batting cages in an hour. Being the tomboy that I am, of course I said yes. He came to pick me up in a car that wasn't his, and it was much nicer. Even weirder, he got out of the car, walked around to the passenger's side, and opened the door for me. Shake it off, I thought to myself. "Are you hungry?", he asks. I tell him I could eat. He starts to drive, and I am thinking we are going for some quick fast food before all the batting; McDonalds, Taco Bell, In-N-Out, Wendy's. And somehow before I know it, we're sitting at some fancy Italian joint in a private back room with tablecloths, drip candles, and bottle of wine. And mind you, this is a guy friend I've known for at least two years. I wonder what was next, "Tomo, can you come over at 12AM and help me make my bed?"




That is not to say I am jaded. Once in a while you get that one moment that comes along, a moment so pleasant and surreal it makes a girl think hey, this isn't so bad. It always comes unexpected, when you're least expecting it. They smile at you, you smile at them,  and the conversation flows naturally, and it feels just right. You're a little nervous,  but mostly happy that this one good moment will make you forget all the bad ones, at least for now. And even if these moments don't carry into anything substantial, these are the moments I wait for, and these are the moments which get me through the terrible dates, the bad romances, and the disappointing relationships. These moments are just small fragments of the things that make life so fun and amazing. All I need to do is keep my heart open, and keep on laughing.

some serious r&r

"Oh, the Places You'll Go!"

Headed out to Japan today after a socially exhausting month of doing five years of catching up with old friends (some new) in a months time. It was an eventful month filled with partying, camping, lunches, coffees, dates, 7am nights, wine, taxidermy, roadtrips, photoshoots, and then some more partying and it allowed me to gain some perspective on life in LA; life can be good in the City of Angels, as long as I put myself out there.
                                                                 Yosemite National Park

                                                                    Addicted to planes
                                                          

                                         Went to visit a few taxidermy shoppes in San Francisco


Now I am looking forward to seafood, jogging around rice paddies, and one or two nights of partying in Tokyo. I live in the outskirts of Chiba, a city 45 minutes outside of Tokyo. My trip is a mere ten days and somehow I'm hoping to squeeze in a ton of GRE stu≈uring that time. I know that the rest of October and November will be INSANELY busy. Wish me luck!

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"thanks, please put it back on my sleeve..."

It's been nearly three months since I have been single, and nearly three weeks since I have been entirely single. And by entirely, I mean that the heavy sinking feeling has dissipated from my repertoire of daily emotions; thoughts of my former love do not percolate into my mind moments before falling asleep. I can function without melancholic pauses, and I can do things which we used to do together, all by my lonesome self without wanting to vomit my heart out. It would not be accurate for me to say that I have moved on, but for the most part, I have come to terms with the separation. It took longer than I thought, mostly because I failed to cut him out the moment he said goodbye. It was a foolish move on my part, knowing that I am inherently out of sight, out of mind.

It is difficult for a person with my mindset to let go of something which they found to be interminable at one point; in order for me to fall in love with someone, I need to convince myself of some sort of permanence. I need to continually assert that this person is mine, and mine to keep forever; I need to believe that it is an inimitable relationship which needs to be polished, fed, and looked after at every possible moment, and that I am inseparable from this person. And because this was the first time I ever allowed a person to become the gravity of my world, it was so difficult to immediately readapt to a different order of the universe. 

With that being considered, I am doing all right. I've gained some of the healthy pounds I lost, I have become a little more grounded, and I have no regrets. It is because I believe that everything happens for a reason, and the stars do not lie, only our interpretation can be skewed. I face forward, ready for the next chapter. I will not be embittered, I will not hold back. I've got my heart back, and I plan on using it again, and I'll start by placing it back on my sleeve. 

I know it's bad, but this song was on repeat during the mending process

"intro to insomnia"

I leave the W Hotel in Westwood at 2:30

I decide that I am not ready to turn in

Which leads me to hopping on the I-10 east

Which leads me to Downtown LA

Which leads me to the Los Angeles Flower Market

Which leads to it being closed

Which leads me to International Marine Products 

Which leads to it being closed

Which leads me to taking photos

2:49

2:58 - Hotel Bristol

 3:10 - Adult Entertainment

 3:20 Theatre

 3:40- Leaving Los Feliz

3:30  Driving up Vermont

 3:35 - I realise I want keylime pie

3:50 - House of PIes is closed. But I have cigarettes 

 4:25- Norms (After Swingers closed)

Dragon Lady Lips

So here I find myself at the crack of dawn at Norms off Lincoln, just as the breakfast menu becomes available. Some senior who probably woke up an hour ago tips his hat as I walk by..."Morning, Dragon Lady". It's probably my bright red lipstick paired with my leather jacket, black skinny jeans, and tall boots. I've spent the past two hours driving aimlessly across Los Angeles; from Westwood to Downtown and then to this place on Santa Monica. It's lonely being the only night owl in a flock of early birds. Menthols and this phone have been my only company. I'm addicted to being alert as the whole town sleeps. It's hard to discern whether I am up too late or up too early. I'm hoping a stack of pancakes and some hashbrowns will put me in a lovely food coma so that when I get home, I will slip out of consciousness before my head hits the pillow. I'm addicted to the sensation of utter exhaustion. Goodnight, and good morning world.

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