the You that i want You to be.

You know,

You're not the you that you used to be.
The you that worried and tried to look out for me.
You're not the you that I want you to be.
Because you're not you and don't want to see.

You're not the you that you used to be.
The you that I loved and trusted the most.
The you who I knew made for a friend I could boast.
You're not the you that I want you to be.
Because you're not you or even ready to be.

the You that i want You to be,
would never actually question me.
You wouldn't dismiss me but listen to me.
the You that i know You to be,
trusts me.

But now you're not the you that I want you to be.
Because you're hesitating to grow up,
I know cause you told me.

I expect you to be the you I want you to be.
But I'll settle for the you that you appear to be.

Useless Attempts

I spent a huge chunk of today reminiscing on old friends, resenting my stubborn nature, and hating my insecurities. Now it's midnight and I think I've had enough.

What's the use of it all really?
To remember the things that hurt the most,
to wish for things and make happy toasts,
to try and rekindle old flames with gone-folks?

What's the use of it?

Useless attempts at a present, burdened by your past.
If it didn't work then what now could make it last?
When you're lonely and confused you make decisions too fast...
So what's the use of it?

Useless...useless..USEless...useLESS....
USE LESS words when you're not thinking straight;
when you're irrational decision may potentially alter your fate...
when you're bored in your bed and remember a former mate...
USE LESS words when you're not thinking straight.

What's the use of it really?
In the end you will only feel silly..
For your own attempts make you look over-willing..
Vulnerability.

Useless attempts and vulnerability,
they're useless.
And to us?

Attempts at broken pasts only end with things that won't last.

Identifying With the Other Side

I've taken on a new guilty pleasure; Parenthood. Partly because of my addiction to Gilmore Girls, partly because I'm a sucker for gushy television, I thought it would be a good investment of my time to have a good laugh or cry once a week at a moment of my choosing. But I've found myself identifying with the one character least like me.

For those of you that watch the show, Amber Braverman is a beautiful fiery brunette with not a fear in the world (at least on the surface) and no restrictions. She is broken though, possibly because mommy Braverman is broken too and seems to struggle to make things right. But Amber and me, we bond every Friday or Saturday night I launch Hulu.com to catch up on the latest episode. She goes through a lot of what I went through in high school, only more exaggerated and slightly more dark emo-type emotions than I've ever felt.

But she's so smart! She's like one of those closet geniuses, who will never admit that she's smart to the cool kids but secretly dreams of going to Yale? Yeah, that was me in high school, minus the genius part and minus the balls (excuse me), Guts to actually apply to Yale. Maybe I would've actually enjoyed my years in journalism academia had I gone to a school like that. Maybe. But back to Amber.

Somehow I find myself engrossed in her dilemma, feeling every emotion that drips off her tongue, and every tear that rolls down her cheek. And I know it's acting, but she's damn good at it! I'm even more connected to her in that she appears to resist her tears, but when they flow, they really flow. She's me, only she grew up in Fresno.... Idk.

Anyway, just wanted to give a couple lines about the chic cause she's quite awesome, and managed to become inspired for a quick line or two:

To Identify with the unidentifiable,
avoid conforming with the normalcy,
the oddly fiery secrecy of the other side,
screams at you with tenacity.
Identify with the unidentifiable,
You may find their personality, more viable,
than yours.

Exhaustion

There's a fine line between exhaustion and being completely, utterly burnt out.

I think I'm playing with that line. But it feels good.
See I've decided that I am not as misunderstood
As I thought I was. But I misunderstood me. I needed to see that stress made me me and
DC.... completely enables me.

I think I'm playing with that line, bye being extremely wreckless.
So wreckless I haven't had time to notice... It's just me.
I've zoned out the world and I'm as alone as I can ever be.
But I'm not as worried anymore because
DC....completely enables me.

I think I'm playing with this fine line between exhaustion and being completely, utterly burnt out. But have no doubt,
I am aware that I create my own fears.
I ignore the obvious stares
from the people that ask me, "Why do you care?"
I've zoned them out too because 2010 is a new year.
And DC...completely enables me.

I am not afraid, I am not bored. But rather I am stressed and overwhelmingly busy.
I have let me lose the old me, and fully grasped the concept of the competitive, workaholic me.
Because DC....completely enables me.

And DC does not judge me.

Apologies

In light of my addiction to Spartacus, the epic Starz series that's almost soft porn but allegedly a "true depiction of Roman times..." Apologies good blogosphere!

I've been M.I.A. a lot longer than I anticipated. Truth speaking, DC kinda reels me in and I can't find my way out sometimes. But I'm back. Still in DC though, actually currently en route from Philly on Greyhound.

Anywho, T* Mel words to follow shortly!

Party doesn't Matter?

Being on the Hill this spring may be blinding, or brainwashing rather all the interns working for various congressional members during this 111th session of congress. The obvious disapproval across the isle of anything Democratic-sponsored is getting a little old, especially when it turns to outright disrespect (Massachusetts Senator Kirk's farewell address last Thursday was not well attended by other freshmen Senators on the Hill). I mean Scott Brown's defeat over Martha Coakley a few weeks ago shocked and awed Dems all over, but was it really that shocking?
Let's put that election into context.... Martha Coakley did NOT campaign well at all... Scott Brown was the "new hottness" as my political practicum professor might call it, sparking new energy in an aggravated, unheard independent voter population throughout the state, and who wouldn't turn to the "new hottness?" Also, Coakley called in the big dogs way too late in the show... President Obama is a people mover, but not 48 hrs before an election that was lost to begin with.....

Now let's look at PA.. Good old (I mean really old) Arlen Specter, the party flopper, the indecisive politically left but personally right incumbent candidate residing in Philadelphia. Pat Toomey, almost half his age, the conservative who would be the "new hottness" there, only Pennsylvania votes interestingly in these elections. With major urban areas voting Democratic, Specter needs to win over the independents, and I'm not sure he's reached that point yet. This past weekend interesting news surfaced: PA's Democratic party endorsed Specter!! The flip-flopper, the epitome of "politics-as-usual" the 44-yr republican was welcomed to the Dems and now even wins the endorsement over Joe Sestak???

It's possible that party labels don't really matter anymore.. It's all for show, republicans and democrats alike provide our political entertainment by pitting themselves against each other, but it doesn't really matter. Gubernatorial elections come down to the voters, and what really matters is voter turnout for Arlen Specter. Let's see if he gets it done.

Overstepping Boundaries

I've never liked being someone who surrenders..... But since I've made this move, I've found my self much more complacent, and obedient. Maybe disciplined is a better word. But is discipline really a benefit when you're competing in one of the most intense atmospheres ever? OR is obedience and discipline overlooked, because nothing else about me is truly extraordinary in anyone's eyes? Maybe it is overlooked, maybe its miniscule in this sea of success I'm voluntarily drowning myself in, because no one else is forcing this on me.... But I am extraordinary.

Maybe not in ways that you would agree,

But in many more than one, I'm extraordinary.

An article can still make me cry,

The New Yorker Talk of the Town on Haiti made me cry....

Because I care too much, emotionally invested, that's why.

I'm extraordinarily passionate.

Unafraid of being unfortunate.

Because it doesn't exist..

My fortunes are someone else's misfortunes,

Such is the same in reverse, in portions

With what I achieve, I

understand what others may not truly perceive..

We live in a give and take world,

But we always wanna take.

Not enough of us give and not enough of us care to dare to question the motives of those who show us how to take.... How to cheat, how to steal, how to diplomatically overstep boundaries.

I'm extraordinary because I know boundaries.

I know you cannot diplomatically overstep anything...

So I overstep what I have to.. I take to task what I need to.

I challenge my existence, who I am, what that means, everyday.

I try to give and give in every possible way.. Love, life, support, comfort,

I'm extraordinarily equipped with more than enough it just takes the effort...

To execute.

Execute my overly stocked chamber of passion,

And show others compassion incidentally depleting my own...

But it's recyclable. So I know,

The emotions that I show..

There's more where that came from

And I will not be the person that deprives someone

Of what I know I'm capable of giving up some; attention.

Arthur Miller wrote it, "attention must be paid...."

attention must be paid to our most pathetic protagonist.

Are you hearing me? Not just listening but actually hearing me?

Ask yourself everyday what you can do for someone else....

And through that selfless quest you will find selfish reward.

But overstepping boundaries cannot be done diplomatically, only ruthlessly. With ambition, drive and passion, you will provide someone else's compassion.

Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board

Remember when we were all obsessed with The Craft when we were young, (at least my girlfriends are)? We convinced ourselves that if we actually played light as a feather, stiff as a board, we actually would be "light as a feather stiff as a board, and levitate in front of our very eyes. Well, this poem isn't about the game.. It's about the lifestyle some women choose to live in order to achieve a body that is light as a feather stiff as a board.

Light as a feather stiff as a board, light as a feather, stiff as a board, light as a feather, stiff as a board,
light light light, feather feather feather
20 more pounds to go, 3 more weeks with no solid foods.
Soups aren't all bad without anything in it.

Stiff as a board stiff as a board stiff as a board,
If i keep up this run my ass will be stiff as a board,
my abs will be rock solid.
Just ignore the faint feeling I get everytime I run two blocks.

Light as a feather light as a feather light as a feather.
If I keep on going I'll get my body back together.
No matter how crazy the weather
I'll be out there gliding like a feather..

Light light light.
I wanna be light enough that any ballroom dancer can easily lift me
that any crazy new pose he wants to try he can fix me.
that any thing i try to do I'll be able to easily.
Because I'll be light light light,
as a feather.

Light as a feather stiff as a board, light as a feather, stiff as a board, light as a feather stiff as a board.
One more cube of cheese, no crackers
a few more tears.
It's only been two years.
40 pounds dropped. I can reach 20 more.
Next time I'm hunched over, I'll remember to lock the door.

My head is light as a feather, my stomach's stiff as a board. And empty.
But I can't eat. But sometimes I have to, or he'll see me.
So I'll lock the door, and remind myself that he loves me.
He loves me more, more than ever before.
I wonder why...
because now I'm light as a feather stiff as a board.
And in his eyes....
I'm perfect.
I-m-per-fect.

2010

20-10.

Let's split the year in half.

24 weeks to get your life back in order,
24 weeks to screw it up all over again.
A few just to relax.

2010 should be better, could be better, but what WOULD be better,
is if all the bullshit from the last never settled in my past.
2010 should be better, but I know better.

12 months.... some cold some hot...
Sounds like the people I know.

2010... doesn't it sound like one of the years of the "future?"
Where cars would be flying and ppl wore suits that looks like space suits...
Where vacations would happen on different planets, The Fifth Element was ill.

2010... it's really nothing special,
just a numerical assignment to another chapter in the world's history.
Where governments fucc up and people live their lives in misery.
2010...2020...2000... They all still sound funny.
the 90s sounded the best.

Resolutions are lame but I make them anyway.
In 2010 I will stop making plans.
Because they always fall through, and nobody else cares as much.
catch me if you can*