Overlooking26’s Weblog

Sometimes I get wrapped up in the day-to-day

I make my world small enough to handle

I have gotten somewhat good at avoiding realities that make me sad

There are things I love in so many places

There are people I love in so many places

But somehow

Some way

I end up feeling more alone

More alienated

More immature, less self-aware

Childhood insecurities

Things I thought I’ve moved on from

Learned from and grown from

They’re still there

I need to challenge myself

I need to crawl out of the hole I hide in

I need to diversify the everyday experiences I encounter

Cause they have become routine

I have become routine

Am I scared

Am I afraid of what the routine-ness really means

What does it really mean

Why am I so comfortable

Why are we as humans so comfortable with consistency

I am feeling a bit too stagnant

I am in need of some moving and a shaking

I am in need of something that I frequently speak about

That I used to actually do

That I swore I wouldn’t let go of

I need to create my own space that’s out of necessity not loneliness

I need to create comfort with the uncomfortable

I need to be vulnerable in new ways that frighten me immensely

I need to channel some changes

I’m not sad

I’m not depressed

I just talk about some things for so long

But never do them

Or do them so far after the initial discussion that it makes them comfortable

When the entire premise for their need is to create the uncomfortable

I feel stuck in various ways

Ones that inadvertantly make me feel needy but alone

When I try to convince my lover of closeness because I am feeling less than self-sufficient

That doesn’t seem fair

He entertains me

But it doesn’t seem fair

Maybe he’s ok with it

Maybe I over-analyze and create false circumstances

But I am scared of fucking this up

I am scared of the vulnerabilities within myself

I have to learn to let go

To bend and sway

Sometimes its just the way you say my name

Sometimes its just the sound of your breath

Or if you let slip a quiet moan

Sometimes its the way you look up at me, expectantly

The half serious eyes, crooked smirk, wrinkled forehead

Sometimes its just the smell of myself cause it reminds me of the smell of you

Sometimes I just want to break it down to raw instinct

But mostly

Mostly, its when you spread me

Slowly and softly

Like a child opening a present

Careful not to tear an edge

And you slide a finger up and in

Then I want to pull your hair and scratch like a cat

I want you to show me what you know

When you lick my breasts wildly

Like you’re as excited as I am

It gets to the point where I can’t take it

I want you inside

I need you inside me

When we interlace our fingers

And bend and curve

With passion and pleasure

When you flip me and kiss my neck

And my back

Then that’s it

That’s what does IT

When you’re so far in and around and on top of me

That’s what I desire

Oh mister,

That’s what you do to me

Now I don’t normally ask for my readers opinions. Not because I’m not interested but because my writings are usually just for your enjoyment of my neurosis, not really something I’m needing advice or whatnot on. Anyways, dear readers……I employ you to let me know what you think

I was in Seattle this last weekend with my old man, my PDX BFF Jordyn and her man Mark. Now the boys wanted to watch football on Sunday after we had done some shopping and walking around. I am not a fan. I actually, not-so-secretly loathe football. I can handle some sports, even enjoying some. Football is not something I enjoy. JP doesn’t seem to mind as much but still isn’t interested for long. So while we were sitting there in a pretty nice sports bar downtown, me eating my veggie burger, I was really wishing if I had to sit still I’d rather be crocheting.

Then a little light went off. I leaned over to Jordyn, one of my fellow crafty ladies, and said “why don’t we open a bar that is half sports bar and half crafty bar?!” Think about it. Then the ladies wouldn’t be forced to watch football and the men wouldn’t be forced to hold yarn. And for all those gender-benders, you could be somewhere in between or doing both. Nobody would have to fit into a stereotype. But then we’d all have options.

What do you think???

I’m still not completely sure what that means….affirmation of sorts, I’m told. Every time I try to use it, I end up feeling like Ron Burgundy with the “when in Rome” phrase. I tend to keep myself busy. I like moving and doing. I have a really hard time sitting still. I swear its because of my stagnant desk job. But I’m secretly scared of my probable adult ADD-ness. Now I’m not really the type of girl that buys into the media/pharmaceutical suggestions of such paranoia. I don’t think I have restless leg syndrome. I’m not worried about my sexual performance. I don’t even wonder if I’m depressed. I think this country survives, albeit thrives on its citizens being afraid. Every time I’m subjected to the nightly news at my boyfriend’s house, I make a thousand sarcastic comments….”be afraid, afraid of everything” He smiles, but I see the fear in his eyes. I am not putting blame on us as citizens. Of course we’re afraid. We are almost constantly bombarded by ads pushing us to question every little ache and pain that our sedentary lifestyles have caused us to feel. But no worries, there’s a pill for it. There’s a solution from those hard-working medical professionals who cash their checks from Pfizer and Bayer. They are looking for new diseases/excuses round the clock for our lazy asses. Pop more pills and then take pills for those pills and then get your jobs and health-care taken away from you. So your pill-dependent body cannot survive unless you go broke.

Whoa! Sorry! I mean, I’m not sorry but maybe you weren’t totally prepared for that rant. So for my inability to prepare you (my readers) for that spurt of cynicism…for that I am sorry, my blunt, crass ass is sorry.

Anyhow, I have a hard time sitting still. I like forcing myself to do as much as possible. I have been in school, while working full time for the last year, with only short breaks. This is hard for me. I never took a spring or summer class in my undergraduate career. But here I am all trying to get into Naturopathic Med school….so I have to work hard to get there. It’ll be worth it, or so I keep telling myself. Now finally, I have a three week break between summer and fall quarter and I have packed in the plans. This past weekend, we went to Seattle for a baseball game for Shane’s birthday. I leave on Friday for New York to visit a friend from high school. I am hopefully camping the weekend after that. Then its a girl’s night/birthday party the first week of classes. So here we go. No looking back, only forward. So forgive my lack of postings (Ari). They’re always going on in my head and sometimes the old fashioned way of in my journal at home. Fear not, I’m always working through something. Just a little insight into my time constraints I guess, with love