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forcefullyhappy
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read my profile
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Name: jammie
Gender: Female
Interests: becoming more than i am
Expertise: online journals, falling for the wrong guys, saying the wrong thing at the right time, offending people...... aim = thejamatwork
Message: message meEmail: email me
AIM:  theyearidied
Member Since:
7/16/2004
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| oh my me....
where to ever begin... why begin at all.
i just can't bring myself to delete this thing, although i never use it nor read it.
thats the life of not having the internet and xanga not being compatible with my cell phone.
what can i say, livejournal holds my heart for a place to put useless information.
http://livejournal.com/users/selfedit
in other news, driving down a 2 lane country road in the pitch black
with dwight yoakum piercing out of my speakers is as spiritually
cleansing as an excorism.
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| i've finally got a job in lubbock, i start tomorrow, another police
station, a new town. it's all starting to fit into my plan of
finding a home. granted a few things are out of place, but that's
what i get for ever trying to make a plan. i wish i had something
insightful or creative to write in here, something descriptive to
describe my life where it stands, but it just seems better fitting to
keep it simple.
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| he calls me right before 4 am, his shift is over and i'm drunk enough
to not remember all the reasons on why i shouldn't be answering his
calls much less going to his apartment, i arrive to meet him with a
basket of a laundry, the next hour is spent in a locked laundry room
talking, laughing, wrestling, and a few brief exchanges of the lips,
the laundry is done, i fold and iron his uniform, and off to sleep we
go, we cuddle and shift until our bodies find our nitch where even our
wrinkles interlace, his hand on my hip, and one last kiss goodnight and
for a moment right before sleep when i reach sobriety i begin to think
that once again this could be it, hours pass, eventually the weight of
his body is too much so i start to scoot away, he awakes, brings me in
closer, kisses my neck, squints his eyes to the sunlight peering in,
and whispers in my ear, "you want to fuck?"
and the moment is over, the night is over, and my earlier reasons on why i shouldn't be there don't even matter,
"no, my stomach isn't feeling too well"
"come on, please?"
"no, not right now"
"you just have to lay there and i'll fuck you slow and easy and your stomach won't know the difference"
after that, i'm not even sure what was exchanged, but in my head all i could think was, "i hate fucking, i fucking hate fucking"
i
finally pry away from under his grip and weight, he walks me to the
door, i can tell by his body language and tone of voice that he won't
be calling me tonight due to my disappointing resisting of his suave
"you want to fuck" and refusal to just roll over and take it.
sad? no, disappointed? no, tired of sex? yes.
it
ruins things, it's never how you want it to be, it sticky,
smelly,painful and at this point not even fun, and no matter how much
you'd like to think so, you are never the same afterwards.
it's all become a game of statistics, numbers and equations. and i hate math.
for
awhile i became used to the cold calculated fucking, don't kiss just
fuck and get it over with, and you'd think as i drift further and
further into not liking anyone or finding anyone worth the time even
attempting to be with, that i'd draw more into the mathmatical fucking,
but no.
i want something real and warm something i can laugh
at and something i can enjoy, something not put into words and not
something that just seems like another notch in the old belt...
which seems pretty fucking impossible. so
from this morning until i find that, i'm quitting sex. | | |
| unemployment, a blessed cursed thing, free to do anything i want, but
broke and unable to do anything, the worst though for me is just not
having a schedule of something that needs to be done, it's ok though
because eventually i will have a job and then complain about not ever
having time to do anything. a blessed curse.
i turn 24 in a week or so, i gave up on birthdays meaning much at 22,
so i tend to not get excited or sad around my birthday but rather just
wishing it passes quietly leaving me undisturbed and just another year
older... perhaps someone will buy me a few drinks, but other than
that i'm not asking for much, well i want a shirt from
www.shirtsforacure.com, specifially the murder by death one, but yes
other than that, just a relaxing night at a lowkey bar with a few
friends.
i'm waiting for the point where age really becomes a factor for me and i start to panic over how many years have gone by...
perhaps 25.
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| well xanga, it is now a mere few hours before we say goodbye to denton
for good, and make one last trip on i-20 west, (well i'm sure it won't
be the last but the last hopefully for awhile),
as the saying goes, it's been real and it's been fun, but it hasn't been real fun.
bye denton.
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