Feb 2013
I used to be wild
Drunk on my own newly discovered sensuality--and on Drink
Lemon Drops, and Pink *****-Droppers, and *** on the Beach,
and any fruity (sickeningly) mixed (sweet) drink anyone would hand me--but "no coconut!"
Laughing at my friends who were settling down
"You're all getting married, I'm just getting more awesome!"
Feeling so supremely alive
Flaunting my youth and vibrance like an obscure merit badge earned in Girl Scouts
(who would never condone by behavior, by the by)
Thin paper-plastic wristbands with Sharpie dates scrawled on them, and a tagline my only reminder of the night's events
"St. Patty's day"
"Brothers' last night"
"Makeout contest"... yeesh
Whole evenings, and weeks are now a blur, fuzzy from the alcohol? or just the passage of time?
Passing a particular apartment "I think I've been there before, once" and I struggle to remember how that night unfolded
A smile alights my face as some of it comes back, but not all of it; "Did that also happen that night, or was that another time...?"
And then a shift, in power, in gaze
Higher status, higher responsibilities
Higher shoes, (less *****)
The nipping and yapping one another, wearing down a trench around me
A Mother hen mantle settles on my shoulders (at least it's feathered)
And a jaded lens clouds my vision, sadly
My words about others, though never heard, would burn
Arrogant, downright Cruel, for a while
sigh
1am, that's enough for tonight
I'm tired
My bones hurt
I open tomorrow
The feathers are soft, yes, and choking
I look around, "What am I doing here?"
Ten percent of the people here make it worth my while
the rest...
Glitter cuts and scrapes my eyeballs, and I will wear the last vestiges to work tomorrow, no matter how hard I try
To rid myself of the testament to my night life
I want to do more
To Dance more, not police more
To allow more to explore more, and not to judge more
Everyone is worthwhile, and has something to offer
No longer compelled to define myself by the things that I do, or shove my newly-acquired identity in someone's face as means of introduction
To root out the real things that make me feel alive
And truth be told
I want to garden
laughs
I've never wanted to garden before
Wine and cheese with close friends, an adventure-date with my beloved
I'm alive because I'm living
Not because I've been going shot-for-shot for two hours with my best friend
But it's time for the next move
Whether you call it getting old, or settling down, or just "settling"
I call it settling in
To a cozy life I love, filled with only the people and things I love
Anything less, that's "settling"
Drunk on my own newly discovered sensuality--and on Drink
Lemon Drops, and Pink *****-Droppers, and *** on the Beach,
and any fruity (sickeningly) mixed (sweet) drink anyone would hand me--but "no coconut!"
Laughing at my friends who were settling down
"You're all getting married, I'm just getting more awesome!"
Feeling so supremely alive
Flaunting my youth and vibrance like an obscure merit badge earned in Girl Scouts
(who would never condone by behavior, by the by)
Thin paper-plastic wristbands with Sharpie dates scrawled on them, and a tagline my only reminder of the night's events
"St. Patty's day"
"Brothers' last night"
"Makeout contest"... yeesh
Whole evenings, and weeks are now a blur, fuzzy from the alcohol? or just the passage of time?
Passing a particular apartment "I think I've been there before, once" and I struggle to remember how that night unfolded
A smile alights my face as some of it comes back, but not all of it; "Did that also happen that night, or was that another time...?"
And then a shift, in power, in gaze
Higher status, higher responsibilities
Higher shoes, (less *****)
The nipping and yapping one another, wearing down a trench around me
A Mother hen mantle settles on my shoulders (at least it's feathered)
And a jaded lens clouds my vision, sadly
My words about others, though never heard, would burn
Arrogant, downright Cruel, for a while
sigh
1am, that's enough for tonight
I'm tired
My bones hurt
I open tomorrow
The feathers are soft, yes, and choking
I look around, "What am I doing here?"
Ten percent of the people here make it worth my while
the rest...
Glitter cuts and scrapes my eyeballs, and I will wear the last vestiges to work tomorrow, no matter how hard I try
To rid myself of the testament to my night life
I want to do more
To Dance more, not police more
To allow more to explore more, and not to judge more
Everyone is worthwhile, and has something to offer
No longer compelled to define myself by the things that I do, or shove my newly-acquired identity in someone's face as means of introduction
To root out the real things that make me feel alive
And truth be told
I want to garden
laughs
I've never wanted to garden before
Wine and cheese with close friends, an adventure-date with my beloved
I'm alive because I'm living
Not because I've been going shot-for-shot for two hours with my best friend
But it's time for the next move
Whether you call it getting old, or settling down, or just "settling"
I call it settling in
To a cozy life I love, filled with only the people and things I love
Anything less, that's "settling"
7 Feb 2013
This is written, not to put down anyone who can carry on that continual nightlife, or those who started a family very early in life either. This is just a chagrined reflection of who I used to be, a kind of "Ahh, youth." But I loved what I was doing, when I was doing it; the only bit about which I do feel ashamed is the conceited way I viewed others for a time. Elitism is only **** to the elitists.
This is written, not to put down anyone who can carry on that continual nightlife, or those who started a family very early in life either. This is just a chagrined reflection of who I used to be, a kind of "Ahh, youth." But I loved what I was doing, when I was doing it; the only bit about which I do feel ashamed is the conceited way I viewed others for a time. Elitism is only **** to the elitists.
