Government Name...

was the original name of this post. But I had to delete everything I wrote...the sordid tale of me being in love with a man that I can never have. Artie from Glee and I are on the same page in the same book, we have to "focus on dreams that [we] can make come true." And although he is a beautiful dream, the reality is a nightmare that tortures me in my sleep when he is not here to hold me. Damnit, I'm good at romanticizing shit! Lol

The point is, everything is compromised. Even though a handful of people either know or have guessed who I am, I may never reveal my government name. I can never even reveal too much of the story. Here, in this cyber space where I'm supposed to be able to say ANY and EVERY thing, I can't. In my poem book, where I want to spill it all, I can't. To my friends, who mostly have a shoulder to lend and an ear for me to bend, I simply can't tell it all. Everything is compromised. So I must learn to hold the weight that bears down on me like an ACME anvil, I must learn to hide behind my smile, which has always been genuine. I must learn to be alone sometimes.

But I'd rather be in love.

Swirling...

all around my head...are thoughts. So why not write them down? Summer is the season of lust and literature, and in the last few weeks of May, this has been proven to me, yet again, all too well. Only this time, I get to be a part of the action. So, recently a few guys who I thought looked me over confessed to me that they hadn't looked me over after all. In fact, they'd been looking right at me, when I was right in front of them, and they watched as I disappeared. Love is stupid like that. You've got nothing but space and opportunity for years, literally, and when you lose opportunity and the space widens to a fault, you feel froggy. Ironic. Disheartening. But encouraging too, I guess you never do know who's secretly courting you. Although you should...know, I mean.

You'd swear I'm bi-polar. And I'm starting to notice that through these posts, but maybe love just feels bi-polar like this. I think it does. And if it doesn't, I don't wanna know (they'll try to give me pills, lol). I mean, one minute I wanna be an empowered female superhero, independent and seductive and spontaneous, and the next, I just want you to hold me and read Dr. Seuss. But who are you? Where are you? And these past few days, a bunch of romantic comedies and sentimental novels HAVE NOT helped the case AT ALL. But that's what I like to do, I'm drawn to art, and I'm drawn to love, and the combination of the two in those forms fulfills me to a point.

And why isn't anyone cute?? Lol, no really. I have been on what I'll call 3 blind dates where I felt no physical attraction to the man. You have to have attraction. That's just truth. You can have all the conversation in the world, but that makes you friends. Hell, that makes you Oprah.

And...well, that's another post altogether. Read on.