Wow. You Really Deleted My Number.

It was more than a question or a statement. A fact really.
I'd sunken to this low on his book. Or by some force of nature
he had fallen for me. Or this was my imagination's way of helping
me feel important again?

Crumpled ego. Melted.
Time sent a message.
Crisply folded, not yet wrinkled.

If only I knew this was how it was going to go down, would I have
neglected the tender innocent kisses of the curious? Random lust.
Nahh..the memory, cemented as it is in time, is worth every penny.
I wouldn't trade that moment for what it's worth. No Regrets; perhaps
questions, perhaps quizzical looks, but never regret.

Betrayal lives on to the noble. We can only stand still as if change can't
change me. As if whispered promises could be kept. Somehow, I stand alone
in my moral compass.

I thought it was for fun. He meant it for keeps. Which is partially why
I think he disappeared. As if his disappearance, could erase that video tape
in a dark and sullied casino. As if, by avoidance, the attraction,in the spa,
was fantasy, and reality is muddled under kamikaze clarity. Well, I refuse to forget.
So that's what I'll remember as I grasp remnant thoughts at 84, in some lucid minute
or two, and although, they'll argue it's just crazy, I'll know it was real. As real
as a kiss can get.

Some mingle kisses and love into the same story. Ours wasn't written that way. I told
you from the beginning. I promised. I kept my promise. It was a real kiss, but love never touched that one. I promised you sting less kissing, blessed kissing, but the kind that soul searches and finds nothing. Did you hand Cupid a note one night when I fumed within at how unright you were? Were you convincing yourself of a lie? I meant no pain; foolish as that may seem now, but a kiss is a kiss. No more, no less.

Now mind you a kiss was wow. But a kiss doesn't lead anywhere but "sittin' in a tree"
until you say it does. I told the kiss to stay put; and mine did.

SodaHead.com, Autumn, and Full Moons

I was driving home from my new job at Sodahead.com, (you should check it out if you have any opinions whatsoever). I thought back to the first year I started blogging and when I talked about romance veiled in infatuation. I think I pointed out to my life events with hyperbolic storytelling. I enjoyed every luscious retelling of the story that is my life.

I lost a friend; the same one I pretty much kissed to satisfy the inner curiosity that bled within. Somehow, he mistook a myspace comment after he was safely engaged to a lovely lady. I wonder about Maverick, because I enjoyed the jokes, the conversation, and a part of me hopes he joins sodahead.com. Perhaps, I'll run into his poll or something like that. I just want to tell him that I'm happy and enjoying the ride that age 30 has given me. And I want to tell him Thank You for converting me to Alternative Music. But since he carries resentment close to his heart, I think I shan't hear from him, door open and all.

I'm crossing oceans of time to start seeing who I am and who I will be.

After a brief interlude of some really bad news and some really good news, I am arrived to a higher level of thought.

So, I work on content management and I love every minute of it. I wonder often at the sun sliding into the ocean, a single palm tree leaning in the breeze that Venice is known for, darkness closing in on the ceiling of stars. The full moon echoes in the heavens, a silent song, its beauty forever on the set of Los Angeles living.

Destined to be.
Destined to breathe.
Destined to think.
Destined to believe.
Destined to hurt.
Destined to love.
Destined to argue.
Destined to achieve.

And the leaves began to fall.