Novocaine.

Leaving you was the best thing I have ever done for myself.
& letting him in my life was the second best.

& if I could paint your picture,
I'd paint you as the sea.
If I could fall into you,
I'd let you swallow me.

Chasing pavements.

I'm far past letting go of the life we had planned;

& only embracing the life that is
waiting to unfold for me.

Peace out, nostalgic baggage. ♥

Even birds are chained to the sky.

I'll remember everything.

Even when we're on opposite sides of the world from each other.

I'll remember everything & I'll smile.

Cheap perfume & spent cigarettes:

Remind me again that someday

all of this will be worth it.

Easy, Lucky, Free..

True story:

The simplest of gestures make me beam with happiness.

For example, today I received a very heartwarming, unexpected card

at work from a regular coffee enthusiast I attend to daily.

& if by some chance she can read this...

Thank you, you lovely lovely person.

That act of kindness truly inspired me to appreciate the small things that can easily go unnoticed in life & especially made me think of all I could do to brighten someone's day.

"If you look around and notice the world is missing something, it's probably what you're suppose to be bringing to it."

Amber coloured energy.

Life itself completely blows me away.

(& pulls me under.)

A cage of rib bones & other various parts.

Our first big mistake was falling in Love.

Our second mistake was letting it go.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"There's still a little bit of your song in my ear; there's still a little bit of your words I long to hear."

Crème & Sucre.

The hissing of the steam wand
The rain on the window
The harsh aroma of black coffee
The people; chattering, wanting, in a rush.
The rising steam from an espresso glass
The spills, the crumbs
The infinite distractions
The messy thoughts tangled in my head
The routine conversations

Yet somehow the world turns silent at the thought of you.

Colour me numb.

It terrifies me how quickly everything is able to change within the blink of an eye.

But more so than that, it excites me.

Letter to a Ghost:

Most of time I avoid writing my emotions down on paper. I just figured that everything trying to escape through my pen is simply a mass of confusion and I honestly wouldn't know where to start. I feel like one of those crazy people that you sometimes see on T.V. You know, the ones who let a room or two get so dysfunctional and messy that they close it off from the rest of their house never to be seen again until the police or someone make them take care of it?
Yeah, them. I know I could have done something to prevent all of this. This chaotic mess of a life who's existence I've naively ignored. Every time the thought creeps up on me I paint or read or find any possible way to turn the urging curiosity into productive creativity. Grabbing my current book half way read through I try allowing the stale pages to once again absorb those tangled thoughts, the ones I've closed so far off never to hear from again. So here I am, sitting on an old birch wood bench with the word "fuck" hand carved twice deep into it, as if it is reading my mind finding that it is no use. My hair is being pulled by the wind in a million different directions blocking my eyesight from the pages and view of this washed down local park. And that 9 year old kid who is undoubtedly almost as tall as me won't stop shouting profanities with his buddies making it just about impossible for me to concentrate. I remember the first time me and you came here together. Do you? For the record, I wore so much cheap perfume I was attracting bees. My sundress and feminine sandals, they were all just for you. Always a wasted effort. I could be looking at you through thick eye shadow and mascara, be sporting as much caked on foundation & blush like those typical girls, and have a hard time breathing in a tiny skin tight tube top. You would only see past it all and laugh. I probably looked like an idiot the first time you saw me. Lost and tripping over my own goddamn two feet. Not like you cared, you just sat there biting your bottom lip pretending not to be staring at me. I don't need to lie to you; I've never once needed to impress you. Not like the other man, clearly older than me licking his lips & stopping his truck stained with rust next to the sidewalk on my way walking home. "Why you walking there, lady?" I wouldn't feel the need to give you the same short answer I gave him, replying with bitter sarcasm "It's good for me." Hell, if it were you I wouldn't even be the slightest bit embarrassed telling you that yes I am indeed a hardworking adult but that this is pathetically the only transportation I can provide myself. Or that yes, I do work just about 40 hours a week but there is no way in hell I could afford a car. Not even a shitty one like yours, pimpled with rust with screeching breaks to match that I will probably end up owning years from now wishing that I would have gotten that damn pay raise I deserved. No, with you everything is different. There is never any judgment, only comfort. I've let events & secrets spill from my lips to your ears that would literally mortify others. And in return you leave my cheek damp with your way with words and a kiss. You don't care if I am a screwed up girl from a bizarre family who has been through some of the most fucked up shit ever that it almost deserves to be documented. You don't care..
Once again tugging the windblown hair out of my face I realize I've become immensely sidetracked. But maybe, maybe that’s just what I needed. Or maybe that’s you.
Maybe I need to forget and never second guess how dysfuctional things have gotten in my life or how you've once again managed to interrupt my previous train of thoughts. Maybe I just need to look forward. After all, you've showed me what this little girl is capable of. I can be anything.

♥

09/28/06

Fragments of inspiration:

The littlest of things have always inspired me.

"Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication."
~ Leonardo da Vinci

"Toujours l'amour ce que vous avez."

Dearest you,

I suppose as a very typical first blog entry I should probably explain my motive behind all of this shenanigans.

Well, to put it quite simply I just very recently established a goal that I would try & write something everyday. Reminiscences, thoughts, feelings, lessons learned, poetry, art & etc.

I hope to keep you all at the very least vaguely amused with these tiny glimpses of my life.

Yours truly,

Emily Rose.

"'& I will remember your small room
the feel of you
the light in the window
your records
your books
our morning coffee
our bodies spilled together
sleeping
the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth
of you
who made me laugh
again & again.'"