You Don’t Get To Keep This

I think it’s the new Tumblr format that’s got me stuck for words. But that’s just an excuse. I think it was me that said I’d write on my own face if I had to, which is ironic as I don’t brandish my words and half of you have no idea what I look like. No, I quit smoking, that’s it. I changed the layout of my room. I stopped sleeping with people, mostly. I stopped sleeping with awful people, mostly. I started caring about my skin too much and spent too much money on eye creams and anti-aging ridiculousness that looked stupid in my cart but not nearly as stupid as last week when I thought reverting back to nineteen-twenty years old and absorbing health was the way forward. And I spent fifteen dollars on organic gluten-free cereal and ten dollars on agave and then rice protein powder, spirulina, evening primrose oil and stole 10+ manuka honey from my Dad’s place and ate so many blueberries my mouth looked wintry and weird. I always come back to the present, though. I always come back to a forty-dollar vibrator bought with the credit card I said I’d never, not ever, get. And then waiting for it to arrive. And drinking coffee and wishing I still smoked and half-daring myself to strut to the dairy on Majoribanks and just buy some because you’re young. Except twenty-two isn’t really that baby-faced anymore. How many times do I say this.

You know how I broke vegan? I stole a twenty-centimetre long cooked fillet steak from my work party, went out with this steak to a different bar, sat with this steak all night and then at four-thirty am, there I am: Clipping down Courtenay Place, black fringe, pale powdered face, painted lips, eating this steak out of a clear plastic bag. 
I don’t know. As much as I resent the fact I did this, I still think it’s pretty awesome the scenario in which it happened.

Oh wait, oh wait.. There I am again.

I used to win other people. It was in fact a game, one I did not necessarily have the best cards for but my poker-face was impeccable, I could play at nonchalance better than anyone. Now I have no intention of playing, not only for fear that I couldn’t possibly win anymore.

I get Christians’ wonderment at God’s creations. Last year when I moved here I kept seeing figs lying on the driveway and wondered where they had come from, it took me two months to figure out they had been blown twenty-meters from a looming fig tree that towered over the washing line I’d been using for weeks and by then there were no figs. I was adamant that I stay here till there were more figs. Every day now I go outside and eat figs off of this huge, fantastic tree and I get it. Sometimes I stop in disbelief that I am standing here, picking swollen fruit from a tree and eating it. This does not seem like me. Waking up underneath said fig tree, that might be me.

I must go check my mailbox and see if anything has arrived.

I love you. TNxxx

Oh God Frigid Thoughts

*PO7H is coming, I promise. I’m having problems disconnecting myself from some of the people who I know, even vaguely, who sent in their responses. 

The rain is intermittent tonight. Like an insecure come-on, it wanes, unsure. Unties and reties its laces, hesitates again. 
For fucks sake. 
In the supermarket feeling up fresh figs, I’m as dithering as the weather. So ripe some are bursting from their supple leathery skins. I feel the same sometimes. The humidity induces a feeling of extreme youth, raw and untrained, my skin is not enough. Blessed with euphoria, I buy two. They are something I look forward to.
Being a gluten-free vegan is not difficult. Considering one of the more prominent reasons for eating meat is the expense of vegetarianism or veganism, well, you can buy 480grams of buckwheat for three dollars (two cents).  
But I’m no preacher.

At the gym I’m trying to beat a girl on a different machine, I’m not a competitive person by nature, in my head I create games with myself. Get to this intersection before that car does (or else your family will die. Not really. Religion might be something like OCD but I have neither).
I think she’s doing the same because she gets off thirty seconds after me. She wasn’t even on an incline. Bitch.

On another note I’m pretty sure ‘for fucks sake’ should actually be ‘for fuck’s sake’. Am I right?

Thinking you’re ugly is kind-of hilarious. You’re somebody’s reason to get off. 

On getting off: Fuck do I hope you never gave a thought to the expectation I would be jealous or hurt. Maybe she’s faking an orgasm right now.

I wanted to feel your hands on the back of my neck, I wanted to sway and lean into your embrace

Eating brown rice with my knees up to my ribs. Sleeping in different directions, yearning for altered fantasies when my eyelids meet. Tiring of dreams that collide like porcelain and shatter as such, shards I have to cross in order to wake up. 

Coffee-shop worker catches me gazing out towards the road. Teases me - ‘dreamer’. I was watching the lean legs. I love a lazy stride. Humans are graceful, a lot of the time. We just don’t notice [perhaps].

Got anxious again, went to cook something. Found an egg with a feather still attached. Felt a swipe of guilt cut at my forearms and waist. Is vegan still an option for me?

I always called all vegans I knew fags. Not in a malicious way, just in a ‘you-think-you’re-better-because-I’m-only-vegetarian’ way. When, really, they share the same reasons as I for eating in a particular way. I’m a fucking idiot. I have been mean, a lot. Don’t think I don’t feel bad about it. I genuinely don’t think I’m a bad person anymore. I’m trying to not perceive myself as needy. When you’re in trouble, and you need help, asking for it isn’t necessarily an irritant. Still, I feel I have pushed some people away, and I can’t help but feel guilty, did I ask for too much? Is that what I did? Or do you think i’m OK now so you don’t feel the need to be around all the time?

Other people have lives too. It’s time to move the fuck on with mine.

Room is almost perfection, will post photos when it’s done. I can’t wait to wake up to empty spaces I am free to dance in.

I dance by myself. A lot. That’s why I have a duvet over my window. I dance like an idiot. 

Dancing is actually just a really strange occurrence anyway.. I shouldn’t care so much. 

I would like some mail. I will send you mail in return for mail on my end. 

Please?
TN