Must Love Freaks

She says that I was born with luck sitting on my hand and charm dancing on the tip of my tongue. “People love you,” she tells me, “they want that… something shining out of you.”

I smile at her, all magic and creepy teeth, wondering if she ever kisses her mirror.

You must love
freakishly wild things
to love me,
caress chaos’ soul
and moan for balance.
.

a wee note…
– Someone told me that she “hated being so weird”, that she wished she was “normal and cool like [me]”, so that people would like her as much as they seemed to like me. No, my Wicked Luvs, I did not laugh hysterically at the thought of anyone thinking me “normal” (I was not offended, either). But I did wonder if the someone in question ever realized that a person who doesn’t like herself will have a rather difficult time getting others to like her.
– Linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads ~ Tuesday Platform. Kerry asked us to link a song to our poem, and I’m linking the song that inspired me to wear my weird as a fiery flag: “Pelo Suelto”, by Gloria Trevi. You can watch the video HERE, and read my translation of the Spanish lyrics HERE.

The socks are a birthday gift from Rommy, and Wicked Green (the frog) is a gift from some of “the coolest old-ass fighters” (their words, not mine) the military has ever produced. 

We’ll Always Have Smoke Signals

She was doing just fine. And then the fainting spells began… She’s an old gal and all, but I hoped we would be together at least until my 40th birthday. I know she is trying. So I don’t blame her… Time is hard on all of us (the insufferable bastard). I must learn to let her go…

…especially since she has fainted at least 8 times in the last 30 minutes. Maybe she fears this note. Perhaps the word hiatus is too scary for her. I understand that. Still, we all have our limits… and my enough-is-enough seems to go nuts in the presence of constant Victorian cyber-swooning.

So, my Wicked Luvs, I’ll write you in a week or so… My household is rather busy at the moment. I need to wait a bit… computer shopping is more fun when I do it with my Piano Man *cough*.

Until then, I shall see you on Facebook and Instagram. And if my phone also fails, we’ll always have smoke signals… and shouting… really, really, really loud shouting… and ellipses, obviously…

hammered-socksThese awesome socks were made for writing (by hand?)
and for getting hammered, it seems…
but since I don’t drink, for writing by hand they will be.