The Science of Sleep


Sometimes I forget that I am here by myself.

My imagination creatively conjures up vivid dreams that bounce me peacefully through sleep.

Power serves my ego freely in my dreams because I recognize the scenery for what it is

Transformable. Fragile.  Susceptible to thought and emotion.

More times than not, the part I loathe comes when these visions start to crumble, warning me of waking.

I long to hold onto some of those moments.

But I am always pulled quickly from Neverland and thrust into the land of the living fiercely…..

Ever wake up in the middle of the night and swoop into the skin that radiates the energy that warms your soul?

My dreams feel like that safe place; balancing my need for those places with the stark shock of emptiness. They cradle my loneliness and tickle my heart.

Have you ever woke up late in the night, feet moving, and toes frantically searching for other toes?  Fruitless searching that leaves you alone, with your memories.

Remember the complete void that rushes over your body like a pearl paleness?

It drains your color and your courage.

It is in those sharp moments I yearn to drift back to sleep.

Be foggy and hazy, yet happy and full

Even dreams end.  I know.

But brief glimpses are better than no glimpse at all.

For in the existence of dreams, smells are reborn.

Long lost ways of touching my childhood actually flutter and dance and explode with memory so fresh I would trade moments of later happiness for more dreams like that.

Posted in death, dreams, Inside Myself, poetry, wishes | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Events You Are About to Read Actually Happened

I use to write a blog on MySpace.  (what’s MySpace?) back when it was all the rage.  I wrote funny things, sexy things, poetry.  I wrote real life stuff.  I wrote it well.  After looking back today, I can’t help but feel compelled to bring back everyone’s favorite “Wesley’s World” 

This may be controversial, as Wes and I are no longer together, but for the love of peat, its good funny stuff, and amazingly it’s all real.  So enjoy this; your first installment of WESLEY’S WORLD.

The events you are about to read actually happened in Wesley’s World.

A group of friends gathered at my house to cook bacon cheeseburgers. Besides me, my cousin Leslie and Eric were here. Eric had brought along  a first timer to Wesley’s World; we shall call her Amanda. We warned her of how the events to come when Wesley got home were unknown. We advised her to proceed with caution. Leslie actually informed her to duck and weave!

Now at his arrival, Wes flew into the driveway, passing 4 other vehicles… He screeched  onto the porch; headlights shining directly into Leslie’s eyes. He entered the scene and grabbed a Coors light and went into the bedroom to get out of his work clothes.

Now 20 minutes ago Eric had lost a bet. He was sure he could convince Wes to stop for tortilla chips for the freshly made queso Leslie had whipped up for all of us as an appetizer. Wes laughed at his request.

Wes came out of the bedroom and informed Eric he had indeed gotten him some chips but had actually stomped on them saying “Fuck yo chips nigga!!” In the words of Dave Chappell; one of Wesley’s favorite comedians, he jumped all over the floor demonstrating what he had done to the chips. Leslie and Eric were forced to eat the queso with Wavy Lays potato chips…horrible. Really.

Eric had hand crafted 6 patties wrapped in bacon and I had placed them on the grill.  When I went out to flip them, the smoke invaded my nose and I went back inside to ask for reinforcements. Leslie stepped up to the grill.  Before we knew it, the grill was on fire flames rose from the burgers.   Wes and I quickly debated the best plan of action and  Leslie shouted “I don’t know what to do guys!”

I sprang into action going to remove the burgers from the flame when Wes was there in an amazing dive play from behind, he poured half of his beer onto the grill and the flames were tamed.

As we all gathered to put our fixin’s (deep Texas drawl) onto our burgers Wes informed our new guest what the rest of us already knew. “When I married my wife I told her I’m either hungry or horney.  If I don’t have an erection, you best be makin me a sammich.”

Then he bites into the burger,  unknowingly and only the day after he had a device planted in his esophagus in a procedure I cannot pronounce. Wes swallows a piece of toothpick that Eric had placed around the burgers to hold the bacon firmly in place (the burgers really were killer) it was a disaster; he was bent over in pain.

Now you ask yourself, what else could happen? And what was the new girl thinking??   Shit she was too busy laughing her ass off, swearing she needed a video camera.

Now Wes was attempting to stick his ice cold Simpsons beer mug on our daughter. He teased her, “I’m going to get you!”   I played along saying “No Daddy, No!” and I moved  her arms back and forth.  I slapped the beer mug into his nose sending his Coors Light all over him.  He yelped in pain again!

Leaning on the bar now he said “I have a lump! “  Then he broke out into song singing   “She’s lump, she’s lump she smacked me in the head”

Now I am pulling up my latest poem “ Lost in Transition” for Wes and Leslie to read. I pick up my computer and proceed to walk off with it connected to the plug in the wall and I pull Leslies drink over onto the floor. Wes laughs. Within 5 minutes, he has knocked over my drink and Eric’s after attempting some sort of acrobatic move to get around Eric, the dog and me in an effort to continue a dart game that has gone into sleep mode 3 times at this point.

 We proceed in a conversation about who has hit the most poles, fences, and unfortunately also houses in our cars.    Wes swears I win simply by default (and the fact I am the one who ran into the house)  but I bring up two incidences in which he clearly hit :   The pole at 7-11 and the parked car next door to his dads shop!  So agreeing to disagree, we are tied.

Okay, now Amanda’s side is hurting from laughing and she says she has to get home and retire… Next time she will bring her video camera because this was so great she “almost peed her pants

As they gather their things  Amanda can’t find her phone.  We call it and the ring is emanating from somewhere inside the couch.  Wes removes the cushion and digs in.  He pulls out one phone, then another.  We joke about how many phones could possibly be in the couch. Guesses, anyone???

Yes he pulls out another phone…..then finally her phone!!!  I remark what a good story this would make; Wesley’s World.  I offer my idea of making them famous.  Like Wayne’s World, Eric could be Garth and Wes could be Wayne.  We could even U Tube episodes.  The bowling alley, the time Wes slapped Craig.  The time Wes was clothes-lined at the Halloween party.. the list goes on and on.

Right now he and Eric are making fun of me, here, blogging. Singing a theme song  “BLOGGING AND DREAMING 15 MILLION MILES OUT OF MY MIND. ”    I THINK THEY ARE JUST DRUNK ENOUGH TO BELIEVE THEY ARE JIMMY BUFFET.  WES POINTS TO HIS BRAIN,” I HAVE A LOT OF GOOD BLOGS IN HERE” he says in a bad English accent.


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Self Help Pad

On my fridge next to painted handprints and school pics is a pad of paper with a magnet on the back.  One day I thought I would write something on the pad, and maybe, just maybe my husband would read it, and it would inspire him.

Seven days later he looks at me blankly standing in front of our fridge, reading my “shame never creates change.”   He repeats it like it was written twice and goes back outside to weed eat.  Thats when I realized the pad on the fridge was going to be my own little self help sessions.

A week later my husband and I wake up on the wrong side of the house, both stubborn, pig headed and RIGHT.  After saying all that could be said to him, I stormed into the kitchen and ripped my “Shame Never Creates Change”  off the pad.  Franticaly I search for any means of writing utensil.  I come across a fat crayola crayon : blue for cold hearted.

If you have ever colored with a fat crayon, you know where I’m coming from.  You can barely stay in the lines; much less write the lyrics pouring from my poor misunderstood soul.

I scrible in anger “I Create Change, ME ALONE.”  I went on to use the crayon for 2 pages of ranting blah is blah and yadda yadda yadda…..finally I calm down enough to find an ink pen, and finish my now eleoquent writing….

….I feel acomplished….

Now it is Saturday, more that a week after the original freak-out, and my husband finaly sees the new message.  He looks at me as if he wrote it him self, beaming with pride because as he would say; “we can only help ourselves.”

I have to say that my little self help sessions are going well.  I feel more sure, now more than ever, that I am a complete idiot.. 

Below is what I wrote that day:

I create change. Me. ALONE.  And it is so lonley here. So cold but far from numb.  I feel for both of us as you reason your way out.  I dont know another way  but at least I shared mine with you.

When it finally happens I will know I caused it.  I’ve been causing Hell for a while now.  Maybe if my body was pure, my mind would start to resurface.  Why does your mind have to be cloudy to be here;  loving me?  We are losing track of all preciousness.  One day it will simply BE LOST. 

It was so late in the day when I realized  the game we played morning after morning  lead us here. It was so late in the night when we realize our home is destroyed.

Wiggling my feet in our cottney debris; I know your feet are somewhere. I will surly find them soon.  Again I waken, this time fighting to snap out of this drearyness and swoop into your skin and warm my soul.

I think I would rather spend my entire life alone, than to love you and lose you.  HOW SELFISH of me.  Selfish bastard, just like the one I married.  Now realizing it is my own head that is crazy; I have taken full responsibility for not being sane, or even smart, but I loved you with all of me.

We cannot spend another minute here.  We must wake up and evolve with life.  I surrender.  I am wrong. You are right.  From now until forever I will take the blame for life.  My way of loving you has sufocated you.  I am sorry.  IF YOU LOVE SOMETHING SET IT ON FIRE….and thats what I try to do, burn for you…

Posted in Inside Myself, Relationships, Self help | Tagged , , , , , , , | 3 Comments