Nothing is greater than the beach.
The majestic, beautiful white sand has an exhilirating thrill to your eyes.
The sound of the abundant and grandiose seagulls bring absolute and utter joy to your ears.
The delicate and radiant ocean is a whole different story.
The superb, splendid and stunning crystal clear water puts your soul at tranquility.

When I was five
the most magnificent pastime
was imagining what it would be like
when you swept me off my feet
wearing a long peach gown
(because that was my favorite color
at the time)
and you would set me on
your tall white stallion
and sing me a song
about some enchanted evening
the woodland creatures would sing
with you
wrap your cloak around my shoulders
and we would ride like Snow White
to Ever Ever, After.

When I was twelve
the most exhilirating fantasy
was dreaming what it would be like
when you rolled up
in your strech Hummer
pressing your palm on the
small of my olive green dress back
(because I know what goes with my hair
this time)
and folded your fingers around my wrist
the paparazzi's going mad
gasps and lightning strikes
to our retreating frames
as I turn and wink one last time
and we ride off into the distance
to Broadway and Main.

Now that I'm older
I realize that I'll probably meet you
in the most unexpected of places
a bookstore
a library
when I'm pretending
to read Hemingway
you'll off-handedly tell me
that you like his work
I'll confess that I really don't get it
you'll grin and I'll smile
sheepishly
you'll rest your hand on the
table in front of us
and I'll be wearing
my glasses and a jacket
(because I don't care
what goes with my hair
this time)
and I'll realize that you probably
don't own a white stallion
nor a stretch Hummer
and you probably aren't famous
nor will you sing me some sappy song
about enchanted evenings
and that it'd be really freaky
if the chipmunks sang with you
but I'll nod anyway
and we'll ride off into the distance
of Starbucks.

They said curiosity was the urge of the generation
I for myself, can hardly beg to differ
It was Friday
Austin was moist
there were raindrops all over my tyres
I drove on in an enchanting madness
I was alone there when I got there.
There were some of you
whom I thought I knew
but I actually didn't.

I felt amongst friends
Then the familiarity of some emotions
struck me
those emotions, that once and for all,
is beyond race, ethnicity and national origin.
You were mesmerized, but
people from your country are supposedly known
for nonchalance and indifference.
He had something for you
But niether did you know
nor did I
what would be true
if I were him.

Could we go back to the shades of the past
Could we disappear in black and in white
so that you would look beautiful
and I your gaunt lover.

I came back after pausing a moment to wonder.
You and him, tap danced away.
It was exhilirating for me
to watch all the excitement
and yet surprisingly not being a part of it
always forgotten
always uninvited.

But then I was invited somewhere
I became the face of the crowd
But then you called.

The rain didn't stop .
It poured and poured.
We chatted, briefly.
You became silent on the other end of the phone.
I waited on this end.

The rain kept pouring and pouring.
A thunder rolled.
I kept waiting for Saturday morning.
I watched the rain from pools,
streams, rivers of connected waters
washing away everything
from the window of my room
a window that I seldom open.

Saturday came unknowingly.
The rain had stopped.
It had left its scent.
I watched the branches of moss laden trees
and wondered.
A cold wind blew towards me.

© Nothing Personal. Feb 18 2012.

She* was dolled up, high heeled,
All smiley faced.
Beside her, a handsome date stood
He made her heart race.

I was forced to wear an ugly dress
And pinchy heels,
Discarded somewhere later in the night.
Oh right!
I was also made to bring a handsome date,
Did I mention that I wasn’t straight?

She danced.
Soon enough, everyone was in a trance.
Exhilirating, beer and boys
Her squad rejoiced.

I thought parties were cool,
Went to one that had a pool.
Turns out,
It was just hella loud.
At first,I was excited.
Now, I just wished I wasn’t invited.

She was blooming,
Just turned eighteen.
Fancy dinner and
The debutante, a stunner.
Could I be any farther?

I wanted a road trip with my friends
To somewhere cold.
We could open gates made of sand to unload.
Intimate, hidden
With drinks and memories
Tucked inside seashells
That resurfaced like waves.

Hands, skin, bones, muscle, vein, mole,
Her own soul, she gave
To a boy who loved her just the same.
Emotions spread, lapsed
Like vines, crawled, slow
But just as beautiful when its flowers bloomed.
Because baby, she waited for you.

I, on the other hand
At the ripe age of seventeen,
Still waiting for a queen,
My head between my knees
I realize I’m still hiding.
Mind, in constant doubt of naked skin,
Tradition and isolation
For now I am still abiding.

Tradition is a resonating nightmare
Wraps its fingers,
From the nape of your neck.
And after all this, I am still happy
Shaking my kaleidoscope,
I don’t need to fit in to feel complete.

They experience an exhilirating flight
Adrenaline of pure joy mixed with fright
Hair flying back in the summers breeze
They're as one with the birds in the trees
And as their feet reach out to touch the sky
I mourn my inner child

Remember when you were a little kid running down a big hill?
And you weren't really sure every single step that your feet wouldn't just collapse out from under you,
leaving you flat on your face,
with the smile still permanently glued there,
laughing into the soil,
inhaling its sweet aroma...
but you kept going because,
the rush was so much that even IF SO,
you would have ran right back to the top and did it again?
Remember when the fear was SO worth it because the way down was EXHILIRATING,
every terrifying adrenaline-packed second,
and the entire time you thought,
"This is it,
THIS is when I'm gonna fall,"
but you didn't,
and you conquered your power,
again and again?
And every time you did feel the least bit unstable in your footing,
you snapped back to bliss,
how much fun you were having,
why you were doing it,
and what you were getting out of it,
and the high was more than the fall anyway,
the journey was the destination,
because in reality,
a mouthful of dirt and grass was a tiny price to pay,
to FEEL something outside of yourself?

Yeah well,
there's someone out there,
they're going to make you feel like that,
infinitely,
without conditions.

Wait for them.

Maybe I'm just bored,
and you seemed like an escape

Bad boys always do
seem to be the portal
to access through
into dreams exhilirating

But bad boys have souls too
though they'd never admit it
Girls like me want to love them to gentleness
Sometimes we melt through the aloof exterior
and find chinks in his armor
But we find out inevitably
that he can't love you anyway
'Cause he doesn't love himself

Us good hearted girls
with wide open hearts
in deep need of healing,
Believe
"If I could love a wounded man like him
Maybe, one day,
Someone could possibly love me"

I guess I was just bored,
I guess I just wanted someone to kiss
I guess all my unconscious baggage
reemerged on the surface
when you came back into my life
I guess you made me question in some ways
the patterns I am hooked into
and how they make me not okay

But you're just a bad boy,
Though I see more
You've told me who you are
And even though I'm bored
I can't entertain chaos anymore
I don't wish to return to the fire,
Once again.

The reflection from my radio -
the flying planes.
My heart races and my eyes flicker
from horizon to endless sky.
Searching for that trail of hope,
searching.

Despondent fingers break the
key from ignition.
In the milisecond of darkness I capture
fear - exhilirating.

The door is already open, the dome
light shatters over my ghost of
understanding. I capture fear -
inhibiting.

And my feet touch the ground.

Just finished my watch.
Two long hours of staring into the emptiness of the world.
Can't seem to find the end.
Can't seem to see the light.
Mind-boggling.
Just finished my watch.
Two long hours of staring into the abyss of my ****** up soul.
Trying to find answers to questions that have been crawling through the cavities of my skull since time immemorial.
Hitting plateaus at questions I try to answer.
Then the sudden realisation hits me like a freight train.
Pointless.
Floating away from the abyss and onto the working parts.
Trying to paint the cerebral walls of my skull with thoughts of euphoria.
Plans of the future.
The feeling is astounding.
Racing through my thoughts.
Feeling every atom of this exhilirating make believe.
Every particle of this blissful rapture.
And then, like an architect that gets a kick, I snap back.
Snap back to the emptiness.
Snap back to the despair.
Snap back to reality.
Logic and reason take immediate action trying to tranquillise me before shock and fear of realisation of this fake reality take over.
Trying to show me that thoughts of the future are dangerous.
And hesitantly, Im obliged to agree with them.
******* ******.