Eye of the beholder pffffff.

I despise the too often written/sang/spoken phrase "you are beautiful to me."

Know why? Because you are actually just fucking beautiful. Yeah, you.

Sinning.

I would get defensive, too, if my entire livelihood were arbitrarily built around a God and Holy Book that are completely and utterly ridiculous.

Views

So, when I post things, I get views on my page. Funny how that works. I wish I could just write whatever I felt like all the time without accidentally revealing that actually, I am the least interesting person on the planet.  But then again, I'm not sure what else blogs are for.

Ordered a new electric piano yesterday. I am one broke-ass, happy little piglet. Went in the Best Buy to try out the models I had researched; they didn't have them.  Could have driven across the street to the Musician's Superstore, but I have successfully avoided that place for five years since the last time they accused me of grand theft piano.

So instead I took advantage of Guitar Center's vast selection of ready-to-play keyboards so that I could immediately go home and get the one I wanted off the internetz.

I owe the Internet a love song.

This is the secret no one tells you:

everybody, everybody
 can sing.

The mirror.

Every day is about the constant pursuit of being a better me.

I am the only person who knows me, who knows my body. I am the only person who knows my standards and my strengths, and I am the only person who can identify the next level and pulverize it. 

  I can feel my body get stronger; every morning that my muscles are sore, I know I have done something right. I can feel my heart rate steady itself ever more efficiently the more I run, I can power myself up a hill faster this week than I could last.  And every time I climb higher I see the universe get bigger, feel the world shrink.

 I will only ever have one body and I promise to use it until it runs out. I will dance everyday, learn how to accurately portray the music to which I have dedicated my life through my body and my voice. I will use my knowledge of our uniquely human art of language to say something new every day. 

Yesterday's standards for the quality and execution of my own person are not enough for what I can do today.  

I recognize the inherent silliness and worthlessness in complaining, though it can be fun anyway.

Every moment that has transgressed up until now matters, and together play a vital role in the moments to come.

I will not make excuses.

I am in control of my happiness. My smile will never hurt, it will only spread.

I am here to be the best at me because nobody else ever will. 

mixed nuts

we all do it, I know
you only want the cashews.

magic I

I swear it's a castle.
 littered with crystals
sometimes I step on the pins
holding the seams in the hardwood floors.
The infestation is the sequins.
A fortress, her mote filled with
scraps of organza and lace flowers
that wilt by nature but do not die.
The queen, so holy she
requires no patches.
I am unfamiliar with this form of magic,
bending light to make princesses.
The king turned grey this winter and
yet they dance