Sigh the morning glory soft fills the spaces as I finish I wonder was it always this good? Does every woman loose the taste on her tongue as her uterus contracts in orgasmic cosmic lovely? Silly questions on an early soon to be really hot summer day, as I stretch my back I shrug off the coverlet and let my tiny brown feet hit the rich carpet floor. Run a hot oil bath to start the day glancing at the emails bulging like a hard on of someone ignored for way too long, I raise my tea cup, an Scottish salute meaning, " I don't really give a fuck at this moment but there's good chance I won't tomorrow too. I find I am bored with the typical. Sinking into the warm tub of soothing , I think, " man does it get any better than this just one day given to me by the Spirit?', sipping on my tea, I answer my own wonderment, " no it just doesn't " remember the bath rules, "no peeing in the pool."
The Trolls: A group of foul sterile repressed sexual freaks started following and accusing late February 2018 and my eyes turn just a deeper gold as I smile, as they try to hit what they think are my sore points? If they only knew my age is the least of my concerns, I look at the mirror holding my reflection minus the the make up, huge eyes and freckles no lines on my face just yet . I shrug my late husband always exclaimed, " what and why do you look so different from the small kid I married years ago?" I have burdens but how I look is not one of them, I feel the smile of the kid who beat the kids down in the playground, remember the rules, " you just cannot fight the world Bonnielynn", sinking deeper into the hot water I nod to myself " OK". I think of driving fast, the adrenaline rush, finish bathing myself in expensive cream, sigh," let's start this day". I step out of the bath and look once again at my reflection, and think ," who is ugly kid grown told to get a trade?"
Don't Just Hang Around: I don't listen to Linkin Park anymore because frankly if I could hold on through all my life pain, sigh I find myself not believing in song lyrics anymore, seems checking out of life a free ticket to freedom but fuck man what about the rest of us who believed? Gosh I don't want to do a Solo Album any more.
Florida: I remember every reason why. I remember every reason why I left home. I remember the late night in Los Angeles waking up from a dream I still cannot remember, feeling my breath catch in my throat, " your drifting too far away from the people who love you and soon you will just be a memory gone". I remember when I decided I needed to find my family home again. I remember when I found alone was just not fun alone. I remember when I fell out of love and it hurt me so much. I remember when I just gave it all away for something better and if it meant starting over with nothing ? I took the ticket to the big leap off and took a plane home. Fast forward into five months home and I am finding myself along with my love for art, burlesque dance and comedy stupid fun. I remember not remembering when I had finally healed, but I did, as I tried on the dance costume I paused in front of the mirror, a slow smile making my freckles melt together, with a glimpse of a good thought, " this is going to be huge fun" . I remember when I realized all I needed was here all along.
Cry Little Sister: How do I tell or write about the amazing streets of downtown Los Angeles and the people who live to work there? I look at the tattoo on my neck behind my right ear, " LA" , reminding me of my second home. How do I explain Los Angeles to anyone who never walked late at night shooting rolls of film and running from drug dealers surprised at my appearance? If you are not street tough my stories might guide you to place me in a category of , " the lost toys" , I smirk I would never want to be anyone but me. If tomorrow never comes? I am OK cause I ran with the " lost boys and girls of #DTLA" , and I am so good with that and hope it shows.
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