“without you my friend, and I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again.”
miss my sistaaa so much 😦
Father of two and nothing new, by the age of 28 he couldn’t be more off slate.
As I stood there naked with wet deep fuchsia paint dripping down my body I couldn’t help but surrender to my mind’s running thoughts.
Maybe it would’ve been smarter to use a paint brush I thought, instead of his bare hands to spread the paint all over my bare body; at least more efficient. But here I was standing square in the middle of his 11 X 12 living room on a damp plastic sheet.
I felt the tingle go up my spine as he started up my back calves, one hand on each. He firmly massaged the thick liquid up my back thighs similar to the motion as if he was slowly sliding a latex protective covering over his shaft. I felt the goosebumps protrude my light olive skin, causing me to twist my head and french braid into the paint already covering my front chest. Fuck.
As he finally reached my lower back, he went to fill his hands up with more of the fuchsia and gently cupped my thick behind moving each cheek around in tiny circles as he covered every inch of my already falsely red heated skin. I felt his hot breath travel down the crease in my back as he calmly put his forehead above the wet paint stilling for a moment following the lead of his long exhale.
Suddenly he shifted his collective manner to instinctively savage and rushed his hands from my nude back to grabbing up my stomach and pulling me into his arms. He was already a shade of wet burnt orange and as our colors collided I felt the coldness of his front up against my dry back and I unstoppably shivered down into his arms.
I felt my knees give in and before I knew it I was face down on the plastic sheet of paper with his body firmly up against mine not allowing me to maneuver in the slightest.
You see this was a time in my life I felt would be inconsequential; young and free, living life the way I felt everyone secretly wanted to but never had the courage to actually pursue.
I was born in raised in Santa Cruz, California. A small beach town located on the coast of central California, two hours south of the national gay community of San Fran and six hours north of the pretentious Los Angeles assholes. I grew up with my mom and step-dad, who was really more like a dad to me from age two an onward. AND no I do not have daddy issues, so before the judgments start accumulating that could be a key reason for my misunderstood ways maybe you should stop reading here.
Growing up in such a small town, everyone knew everyone’s business. Everything anyone did was on radar and put on blast for the whole community to know after what seemed like half a millisecond after it occurred. Santa Cruz, sadly to say, as beautiful and captivating as it was, had a huge drug problem. Probably because after years of living here the kids and quite a few adults got bored of their same surroundings, but mostly because it was so easy to get whatever one wanted to inject, swallow, or shoot down into their bodies. I could literally walk on the beach any given day and find kids smoking out of a bong hiding behind logs, acting like nobody knows what they’re doing, but more so nobody gave a fuck to care. I had more than three friends on the black market, so it wasn’t just shitty stuff we got either. It was top shelf what the “classy” people search for but have a hard time of finding.
The high schools started catching on when I reached my junior year, sending in drug dogs what seemed like every week to schools in the county and chapping all the sneaky kids. (Chapping: Santa Cruz lingo for “busting”, “getting in trouble”, synonymous like that). A few friends in particular left my school to switch to independent studies because of how strict the school all of a sudden got. But before that, I like to think we raised a little havoc ourselves, if not played a huge role in the reason the drug dogs were there in the first place. My sophomore year, my friend Alicia and Yadira got shit faced drunk at a homecoming rally we had and sitting next to Alicia I could smell her drunkenness even through the crowd of stank all around us. She got a little too excited during one of the stomp offs between the grade levels and stood up screaming with her hands whipping the air and then projectile vomited all over the people in front of us. One of the most embarrassing moments I have ever been a part of and one of the most hilarious at that too. I know I should’ve felt bad but being a little buzzed at the time, hilarity seemed to be the better fit.
But see here’s the thing: the people in front of us had vomit all over them. They were pissed. But they weren’t that pissed. NOBODY ratted her out. They just kinda scrammed to the bathroom and washed off without even getting a weird look from a staff member. Reason being: shit like that just happened all the time at that school. The only reason Alicia did get caught was when she decided to leave school because she was blacked out, and went down a path called “shady”. That school was located on a hill in the redwood forest, so walking down this path was “shady” and for that reason got deemed the name. Alicia never made it down shady though. She was found by one of the stoney physical education teachers who woke her up as she was face planted down passed out and told her to get the fuck up and leave as fast as she could because the school was searching for her. (sidenote: we didn’t have an open campus, so if a student wasn’t excused they had no right to be off property. Shady was off property). I can’t quite remember where she went, but Alicia made it out and never even got a detention for it.
There was one big African American lady body guard we had named “Fawn” and I used to call her my “chocolate bear” much to her dislike but obvious secret honor. She was my girl or so I thought, and Fawn always had a way of kinda letting me slide under the radar. Fawn did have a bad rap with almost every other student though and would fuck the other kids up on a daily. Thinking back now, most of the kids were boys so maybe she just had some secret discrimination towards them? We would hotbox our cars in the lower lot before and during class, and hide from Fawn and she tried to patrol us and catch us in the act. It was a little game of cat and mouse we loved to play. She never did catch us though. We were sly; we would only do it on cold and rainy days (which was most days thanks to the ocean maybe five minutes distance walking) so when we would hotbox the car she wouldn’t notice because the inside of the smoky car would match the fog directly outside the car. See our logic?
Besides the basic smoking and drinking most high school kids do, others would show up rolling off your friend Molly and jacked from a recently inhale of your other basic white girl, whom I like to refer to as Britney. This school wasn’t predominately a minority race either, it was a majority of white kids from families high up on the income spectrum. Although, whenever soccer season rolled around the Mexicans had a way of sprouting out from nowhere and winning us the district title what seemed like every season.
Beautiful beaches, people, and drugs all attributing to my wild nature have left me to the start of where I’m at now. I left the small town behind and moved to a city outside Dallas after I graduated high school. Leaving my friends and most of my family was the hardest thing but it was an adventure and something new, and I could feel my calling elsewhere. I’d be back I thought as I packed up my x-terra with a license plate cover that said “if your gunna ride my ass at least pull my hair” and headed due east for the big state of Tejas. The move wasn’t random, as my dad lived nearby in Mansfield, and nor was the scenery since I had been visiting him every school break I got since I was in elementary.
This has nothing to do, in a larger sense, with Texas though. It has little to do with my adventures there, and everything to do with the actions I took before coming here.
I’m slutty has popped into my head a few times.
Why have sex with a guy on the first date? My mom always told me to save myself, to make a guy want me, to leave something “to the imagination”.
I followed that advice for awhile…Until I realized maybe the only person I was leaving to the thoughts of the imagination was myself.
In today’s culture, Sex before marriage, excuse me, sex before love actually seems to work. seven out of ten of my close friends and their long time current boyfriends have all had sex within the first week of knowing each other and seem to have created a loving and lasting relationship.
Of the three that made their boyfriend wait, well I can no longer say that those guys would be deemed the name “boyfriend”: it ended. Badly.
Here’s what I’m proclaiming: In a generation full of sex at the touch of a button and the idea of “romance” being dead, maybe we’re all just looking at it wrong.
Sex leads to romance in today’s culture. Don’t believe me?
It’s more than lust and passion, it’s a liberation.
Sex isn’t something to frown upon anymore, these aren’t the early 1900’s…or frankly the late 1900’s anymore.
Sex in a relationship before waiting too long with a person allows one to understand another’s body in the purest way possible; without the baggage we all bring with us, without the high standards we expect it to live up to, and most importantly without the pressure.
It allows you to feel another before you know another, creating a connection that once you do get to know the person you understand their needs and emotions better.
I’m not saying go and f*ck every random guy that wants it. And I’m not saying be dumb about it either. I’m saying use your head, follow your heart (sexual wants), and be bold.
Just because you fuck a guy too early doesn’t mean he’s not going to talk to you and it doesn’t mean you’re a slut or whore. He WILL talk to you. And if he doesn’t then maybe you should get over it and realize that if it’s not now, it would’ve been later that he ditches you so consider your time and investment saved.
Slutty, Whorish, or not. Do you and be happy with the choices you overall make. Sex is only best if you want it and enjoy it as much as your partner. It’s not that serious ladies.
Every stoner gets the munchies: Fact.
Obviously, the best types of high food are those loaded with calories and carbs and generally are the best fucking thing ever. Pizza…Chips…really anything edible and easy to whip up or grab from the cabinet.
For anyone wanting a change up in their munchy meal I suggest these top five healthy options that are easy to make and taste SO GOOD (enjoy…thank me later)
*2 cups of frozen blueberries (or however many you fucking want)
*Hershey’s Chocolate Sauce (or any brand you feel comfortable using)
*Frozen Chocolate Coconut Water (Zico)
In a bowl, take a few scoops of the frozen chocolate coconut water and then layer it with the blueberries and spread the chocolate sauce on top. You can add whipped cream or anything else you really desire, I’m not sure you could go wrong. Take 3 minutes at the most maybe and it takes like frozen ice cream but with half the calories and fat. It’s also really good for a dry mouth because the coldness of the berries and the sweetness of the sauce mix so well on the taste buds. Personal favorite of my friends and I for sure.
2) PB&J (not your typical)
Everyone knows how to make PB&J so I won’t even describe the ingredient list; YOU KNOW HOW YOU LIKE IT! But I suggest Whole Food’s salter peanut butter, freshly ground from the store.
Pretty much, this one is awesome but needs to be planned in advanced. Freeze your PB&J and when you take it out of the freezer add BBQ chips…yes BBQ chips…and enjoy.
Try it….you’ll love it
3) BLT PIZZA
So this one isn’t as healthy but it still trims a little off the scale.
You can make it or order it but here’s what it entails:
Thin crust, garlic sauce (NO TOMATO SAUCE), light mozzarella cheese, turkey bacon pieces, spinach, crushed peanuts, chopped tomatoes, and a little fresh garlic on top.
I created this at my old pizza restaurant I used to work at and as soon as I put it on display for it’s debut it sold out in ten minutes. Still one of our best sellers today and my personal favorite type of pizza. It’s pretty healthy too, for pizza anyways 🙂
4) The Machine
This one is for the over achievers out there, but really freaking good.
*milk (any type)
*frozen fruit (any kind)
*gluten free cookies (or any cookies you want, just making it healthier)
*Bran Cereal (any brand)
*frozen vanilla nonfat yogurt
In a tall glass, crush up the cookies and put them on the bottom. Layer it with the frozen yogurt. Put a layer of frozen fruit on top followed by the bran cereal and another layer of frozen fruit. Pour the milk over it and it’s done. Take about ten minutes once you get it down and I didn’t put an amount of ingredients because you can really make it how you like, it’s impossible to mess up.
5) Lavender Lemonade
Get lavender edible oil or edible lavender sweetener. Fresh squeeze lemonade (preferred) or as close to fresh lemonade if you buy it. Mix the lavender with the lemonade and add ice.
SO SO GOOD
6) Molasses Cookies
find any recipe you want on the web…all are the same
but sub coconut oil for butter, avocado for eggs, and add honey for sweetener with a little brown sugar.
You’re time will come, if you wait for it.
But who actually waits these days? The answer: nobody worth the time.
Everybody is so caught up in finding the end of whatever path they are on. SO obsessed with creating the best final end piece to put on a pedestal and illuminate to the world. I just don’t see the point in that; working so hard for something in the very distant future to be content with, all the while your working for that moment everything else isn’t as relatively important or half as enjoyable; It’s numbing (physically and emotionally).
And maybe it’s because I’m scared that when I get to that final end point, I’ll consider my life over and feel the nearness to my extinction.
Maybe it’s because I’m having too much fun not worrying about that end point yet.
But mostly, what if it’s society’s issue and not mine at all?
I feel like I’m on the right path and enjoying every fucking second of it, even when I’m pent up in my room with the lights off crying myself to sleep…because it feels fucking real.
So to those who find themselves working for the glory: tell me how it turns out.
To those who find themselves in the glory while (semi) working: I’ll join you for margarita Monday.
Do we measure time or does time in turn measure us? Katherine Anne Porter once said “there seems to be a kind of order in the universe… in the movement of the stars and the turning of the Earth and the changing of the seasons. But human life is almost pure chaos…” However, in Slaughterhouse Five by Kurt Vonnegut, Vonnegut presents an overwhelming idea of time traveling as a reality. His invented creatures known to readers as the Tralfamadorians have this unique ability to see in four dimensions and to not be limited by the past, present, or future; every moment is an individual of it’s own right. His theory, while memorizing, creates a cause of conflict. Is it possible that his idea could be factual? And if true, what does that mean for the human race? Are we all able to create our own futures or is everything pre-determined for us? Vonnegut presents the unique ability acquired by the Tralfamadorians to connect back to one of the overall themes of the novel- the illusion of free will. As a reader, the bigger effects of what this theory of time stands for (free will or pre-determination) has lead to a lot of inner questions and self analyzing.
When Vonnegut’s main character in the novel, Billy Pilgrim, first becomes unstuck in time and encounters the Tralfamadorians he learns of their abilities. Billy is given the knowledge that “they can look at any moment that interests them. It is just an illusion we have here on Earth that one moment follows another one” (Vonnegut 27). Basically, the Tralfamadorians can live any moment of their choosing. No moment came before the moment they are in now and no moment comes after. In a sense, they are time shifters rather than travelers; both are more or less the same thing but if they were time travelers, it would require the awareness of a past or future, and they have no concern for that measure of time. Time shifters shifts from moment to another moment as the Tralfamadorians do. But how do they have this ability? As defined by Einstein in the scientific world of NOVA “time is relative. It speeds up or slows down depending on how fast one thing is moving relative to something else.” Defying all laws of physics we have set our world around here on Earth, the Tralfamadorians have completely disregarded. Their time is not relative and is not determined by the natural laws already established. The essence of time traveling is a deep topic to cover but what it overall points to is the main focus. It’s a crazy idea to think of because in regards to what we all presume to be true about our world has changed and were caused to think that maybe there are other alternatives. It causes one to think that maybe things aren’t always so certain and time shouldn’t be considered as a force as powerful as it is being perceived.
If time shifting and Billy Pilgrim’s ability to be unstuck in time are true, what does that say about our human lives? If these things are true, that would mean free will does not exist and everything is predetermined. Connecting back to one of the main themes in the novel regarding the illusion of free will, that’s exactly it; it’s an illusion. From an article in Scientific American, “It seems obvious to me that I have free will. When I have just made a decision, say, to go to a concert, I feel that I could have chosen to do something else. Yet many philosophers say this instinct is wrong. According to their view, free will is a figment of our imagination. No one has it or ever will. Rather our choices are either determined—necessary outcomes of the events that have happened in the past—or they are random.” Viewing this lense in the bigger picture, Vonnegut probably had the same opinion. By giving the Tralfamadorians this ability to move through moments and Billy Pilgrim a similar gift of being unstuck in time, he has underlyingly stated that he believes free will does not exist. He calls into question the obscurity of it all by giving these certain powers to his characters in his novels. If one were to time travel in the past, they could change their actions then and for the future. If they travel into the future, they already know how their life will wind up and in turn will do nothing to change it or do everything to change it- but in the end their life will seemingly end in the manner they had already foreseen. In this sense, free will does not exist and no matter what a human chooses to do, their ending has already been written for them. Take this essay for example; while I would hope to achieve a high grade, whatever grade I get has in some time already been given to me even before I picked up my laptop to start typing my last name in the upper left corner. As a Tralfamadorian once said “I wouldn’t have any idea what was meant by ‘free will’. Only on Earth is there any talk of free will” (Vonnegut 86). The effects of learning that free will really is seen as a dismal chance, to the reader causes a loss of hope. Every analyzed choice, every indecisive move, has come to not matter in the bigger picture because everything will end up as it is already planned out to be. To the reader it creates a loss of hope but more a sense of depression because really the only thing we have control over is our decisions, but apparently in the grand scheme of things those decisions aren’t even our own.
“So it goes” is a repeated phrase throughout Vonnegut’s novel showing how time keeps on moving regardless of whatever happens. Billy Pilgrim can be in a chaotic moment and “in the next moment, Billy Pilgrim is dead. So it goes. So Billy experiences death for a while…Then he swings back into life again” (Vonnegut 143). Even if Vonnegut is correct in his belief that free will doesn’t exist as displayed throughout his entire novel, how does Vonnegut explain past, present, and future? If one has the capability to travel through time, wouldn’t that mean time is filled with past, present, and future? Billy Pilgrim can travel in time, and if he were to go back to his youth that would factually display a past. Also, in the novel, Billy travels to his death, which factually displays the evidence of a future. The Tralfamadorians say there is no “past, present, or future” but that is not possible in the literal sense. The actual definition of past is defined in Webster’s Dictionary as “gone by in time and no longer existing.” The Tralfamadorians do not believe in a past because they can see all moments and to them all moments still exist, making it impossible for a past to happen in their world; no moment for them is gone by in time because they can live any moment they want. Memories are the foundation of who we are here on Earth, so to us the idea of a past not being real is absurd. But when seen through those terms, it is plausible that pasts do not have to exist through those terms.
Time is the measure of our world. Science, math, and even our basic logic is enveloped by this ticking clock that dictates our life like a hostile ruler. However, according to a science blog “time has not always existed. The theory of relativity suggests that before the Big Bang 13.7 billion years ago, space and time did not exist…” Time, however, has come to overall essentially rule our entire universe. Vonnegut creates this central theme in Slaughterhouse-Five that free will does not exist and gives power to the Tralfamadorians and Billy Pilgrim to defy the laws of physics and the natural world to prove this point. Having regards to the scientific world and the way our universe works, I respectfully disagree with this idea. Free will is in everything one does. As pointed out earlier, I can write this essay or I don’t have too. Billy Pilgrim could’ve tried harder in the war but he chose to not care. Whether these choices change or don’t change how our lives eventually end up, for the now they do impact what we do. The hope of free will give us the motivation to work hard and achieve all we want. It’s the simple difference between going through life versus actually living it. I live in the present as defined by what my eyes see and from what I remember of the past and what I hope for in the future. Time is a horrific and beautiful thing. To answer my question earlier, “do we measure time or does time measure us”, I think it goes both ways. The moon changes the tides and when the suns up the day starts. The universe works as one, and it’s the same way with us and time. We plan our lives around this daily schedule of hours but slowly as we are watching the time, time creeps up on us and is in turn also watching us. The next moment, time is taken away from us. As revealed as a central theme throughout the novel, free will is an illusion; an illusion more or less I’m willing to accept.
The car waits for five minutes. Then the back door opens to a dark figure jumping over the first floor balcony onto the side street. A few moments of polite exchange and the car speeds off. As a neighbor to these men, exchanges like these have become a norm in my life. The only thing that separates my white girl life from their “get money” dream is a paper thin white wall and ten feet in between our balconies. No sleep, no lazy days; in civilian words what you would call a day in the life of not only a dealer, but the supplier. I’m not naïve to the drug cartel customarily run in America but I was naïve to the repercussions that came along with it. Finding myself more than in the midst of just their basic “Britney” for sale but rather their personal room of creation, one could only predict what happens next. Five men (change of name for record): The leader, Brey; the negotiator, T; the bodyguard, Polo. the slayer, JP. And the thief, Roland; all of African American background except the thief, he’s more of a Mexican American. Initially in my mind, making friends with these criminals (all have at least one arrest warrant out for them) was the smartest thing to do for a young girl living in a foreign place. The idea was to get them on my side rather than against it. Endless nights of the next grind and adventures, I came to see their world from an inside perspective. While three out of five of them had regular part time dead end jobs, that wasn’t really their “job”. Judging from the amount of cars and the amount of time I’ve had to wait alone in one of their bedrooms for their transaction to be complete, I could say they roughly supply whatever, whenever to the large majority of UTA students and young adults in the close metro area. One Monday they go from sweats to hump day in all gold chains and fine glasses; their business was booming. Who could blame them? Making much more than any store could pay them per hour, they were living large and the sad backgrounds they came from slowly became more distant. Even though they repeatedly said “we’re only in it for the money”, I think they were in it for the lifestyle. Or thought they were, at least. Coming home from my Monday night bikram yoga class and some time spent studying in the library it was around ten thirty at night. Unlocking the front door to my house and walking into the pitch black essence of my living room I could almost smell it. My big living room TV was half off the stand; my trashcan thrown across the living room floor. As reality began to set in I clearly understood what had just happened to me, and I wasn’t all that surprised. I was robbed and off the bat I knew who was responsible. I marched my ass down the hall to their room banging on the door to only have it be opened by the thief running out with a deep red mark on his face. Chaos set in.