missrenie: (Default)
I should be sleeping
but I'm not
this denotes a problem
some evolving issue in my id
a pimple in my psyche just waiting to breach the surface and explode embarrassingly

Why when everything is going good do I freak out?
Why must I sabotage myself just to feel normal?
Over eating 
Over spending
Over extending
Is it because I don't really think that I deserve my happiness or my success?
Have I really gotten so addicted to the adrenaline high, the strung out of stress?

Or is it just easier
to create an excuse to not live fully

See all these problems, all the extra hours I spent at work, every time I let someone use me, every time I swallowed my truth, every time I pushed myself beyond all reason in the name of sacrificing my wellbeing for those that had less: less love, less affection, less happiness, less opportunity, less vision, less drive, less will I gave up vital pieces of me.  I gave up my flesh to warm another, I gave up my heart to sustain another, I used my happiness as a blanket to smoother someones burning sorrow and when there was no one to give to I simply cut.  Cut Cut Cut Cut into myself via my health, self esteem,  self image.

I should blame my mother you know.
I really wasn't hugged enough.

But I can't blame her.  I couldn't choose how I lived as a child but I do choose how I live an adult and despite all my accomplishments this year I know beyond a doubt that it is a drop in the bucket compared to what I can really get done.

I could say that I am afraid of failure but sugah I've tasted failure.  I've been it's bedmate and lover.  Some people think its a horrible thing but once you get a whiff of it it is intoxicating because it's so safe.  IT is the gateway drug.  It's bottom floor and basement.  You can't get lower, no fall is gonna hurt as much. Stay down it whispers sounding as smooth as a leather pants wearing  Lando Calrissian.  Its like a great big fucked up hug that's hard to get out of...  no I don't fear failure.

Neither do I fear success.  I've rolled in the hay with that cocky well hung bastard as well and smoked a cigarette after so that's a non issue.

It's simpler than that
I'm too lazy.

See  I exhausted myself so I would not have to deal with the truth of what I could become.  What we all have the potential to become.
My ambient was that 60hour work week, unhealthy relationships, the problems of others, bad food, lack of exercise, my outstanding ability to turn my body into a breeding ground for illness.  And while it looked like I was fiercely forging ahead I was really running away.  I was running away from the commitments that I had made to myself, the tapestry of a destiny that I set on the loom with threads of will, faith, intuition, courage and encouragement because I was too lazy to finish it.

I looked a what my life could become and said god damn that would be a pretty thing but fuck me look at all the work its gonna take.... oh something sparkly!!!

I should be sleeping
but I can't
because the "inner I" has been asleep  for so long
my body is tierd
but my spirit is impatient
she is crouching and growling and pawing at the dirt of this fucking grave I sent her to so long ago
she is screaming in rage for her freedom.
"Let me be.  Let me be.  Let me be me."

I have no more excuses
Circumstances I have allowed myself to be put in.  Situations that "inner I" set in sway has stripped that all from me now.
I am waking up
whether I want to or not  and I have to be strong
so  that means that I have to sleep.

That's the real reason why I don't see you as much as you used too.
Like Pink said "I'm not dead just changing"

 so off to bed I go~~~

missrenie: (Default)
That wish list I wrote on here… yeah my first request came in. Clarity.

I have a clear realization that regardless of whether or not I join the Universal Ether or get reincarnated as comfy fat house cat whose owner is rich, childless , reasonably mentally balanced, doesn’t believe in declawing, does believe one pet is enough and is totally enthusiastic about kitty couture, bling and organic salmon dinners.

I have the memory of this one life.

This one only to hold onto in this now and if I am going to live it to the fullest then I have to let go of something.

Or rather some things, some ones and some false perceptions like this fake sense of security and the stifling fear of failure. For nearly three years this 60 to 70 hour working week thing has been the safety wheels on my life.

It’s kept me from falling down and going too fast.
It’s kept me balanced and gave me boundaries
But it also kept me from falling in love (with some exception)
in tale worthy trouble (sort of)
and down this rabbit hole that I’m constantly flirting around the edge of.

I am so so ready to free fall and fly with these wings that have been gifted to me though my own journey thus far, wings that have been pieced together from all this pain, pleasure and joy, pieced together with feathers of love plucked from friends with beautiful souls and mentors of magnificent quality.

It’s all come down to tea…

Which is my personal truth #2

Great Tea is not just tossed together. It is not just an accident. The seed has to be planted, the seed has to grow, the plant must be harvested, the harvest must be separated from the chaff, the leaves must be dried carefully, water must almost boil, then the leaves must regenerated themselves in seemingly opposing elements fire like heat and water, and just when they blossom and unfurl once again releasing like a butterfly emerging from the cocoon their life essence gets taken from them, infused changed into something new. For great tea there must be an even greater patience. I myself and my life itself are no different than the tea.

The things that happen in my life are not just accidents… well not everything :).
Life is like the tea. Sometimes we brew it for ourselves sometimes other people brew it for us. We brew with actions, and reactions and thoughts. We pick our ingredients (actively or passively) … sometimes some bastards sneak up behind you and toss something in the mix. Other times we see them put it in and just let it stay… too lazy to pick it out ourselves, or too afraid to displease them.

And when the tea is done we drink

It tastes like shit
We bitch
And pour another cup
Toast and bottoms up

If it ain't my cup of tea… why the fuck am I drinking it?! Why complain and then do nothing. Why did I fill myself with the same bitter drink over and over again. Because I was worried that if I spit it out I would look like a stuck up ungrateful bitch, I was worried that it was too late to start a new batch, grow new plants and wait for a new harvest, and no matter how appalling the taste was I knew what to expect… and in that there was comfort despite the discomfort.

My mom is taught me all about tea.

An eon ago she laughed at me when I told her I was hesitant about starting everything over. She said that she understood my fear but that I was a silly hussy for using that as an excuse. "If the shoe is fucking up your foot kick it off and if something in your life, whether it be a person, a thing, a job, a situation a habit is not your cup of tea i.e. .Something suitable, appropriate, or attractive to one stop accepting it in your life. Fill your cup with something else and stop being such a silly hussy."

I did it mama.

I made my own precious ever-changing and evolving brew.
I’m protecting it and not letting sneaky bastards toss things in it I did not choose.
I am not allowing fear to dictate the ingredients of my life.

It’s almost ready and when it’s done the first cup of victory will be raised to you.

oh and Juicy if you are reading this Rubenesque Burlesque is totally a main part of the brew ;)
missrenie: (let me out)
The end of summer is the worse time for me.  
Everywhere there are reminders of the darkness, death, silence.... stillness.

But the world seems to resist slowing and like a petulant child laid down for an afternoon nap it throws it's tantrum.  
the last of the humid nights are the harshest,
the last heat wave of summer the hottest
the candle burns brightest before it extinguishes itself. 

Everything is suddenly filled with this resistance from the grain to flowering fruit dripping with its ripeness, full for harvesting

and it seems that I am too.
too ripe
too petulant
too resistant
too eager to be harvested...

I am moving a mile a minute to stay ahead darkness, death, silence... Isa
Isa is the ice
Isa is the cave
Isa is the stillness

Stillness that sends my mind reeling inward and it's desitination is accountability for all the things that I have done and all the things I have hoped to do

Isa is coming for me and I can smell her perfume on the cool, heavy shifting winds.
I know that she is coming towards me at a steady pace not nearly slow enough for my tastes and when she gets here I am gonna just fall forward into her arms.
And  I'm gonna cry myself into sleep and catharsis and back again until this house is clean.
missrenie: (Default)

"Any time there is a fat person onstage as anything besides the butt of a joke, it's political.
Add physical movement, then dance, then sexuality and you have a revolutionary  act."

Heather MacAllister aka Reva Lucian 2/25/68 - 2/13/07


Apr. 24th, 2009 09:43 am
missrenie: (Default)

You know it's like the song says.  “It’s gonna be a long way to happy”


~That’s because you’re carrying too much fucking baggage.


Fuck you.


~You don’t have the equipment sweetie but if you want we can take a day trip to the City so you can get some.


No fuck you.  You think you have it all together but look at yourself look at your life.


~I’m sorry did I hurt your feelings?




~I didn’t mean to.


I know… where are you going?.


She was  just sitting there  in her oversized sweater, the computer screen turning her skin this weird shade of bluish white.   She looks small and frail and I love her.  For a long time she has been a sister to me but I decline all invitations to all pity parties, not out of being a bitch, not out of lack of compassion but out of self protection.  Attendance at these functions does one of two things.

~ gives me that thank goddess that is not me feeling that poor sob

~encourages me to throw my own


Neither of these are accepted schools of thought for me.  I don’t like watching other people’s train wreck since I’ve started to pull myself from the rubble of my own.  And this particular train wreck has been happening for a long ass time. 


~Home… it’s late and I work in the morning.   I love Pink you know I do but fuck that song.  Maybe you shouldn’t be listening to it.   Indie Arie has a song called Hope another one called I Choose.


I need to process this you know.


~You’ve been processing for 13 years.


Fuck you


~Day trip


It doesn’t make any difference… life is shit, life is always gonna be shit.  You have moments when it’s good and then it all gets fucked.  Every time like clockwork.


~If you want to see it that way….


You’re not perfect you know.


I laugh because I am perfect…  and I am flawed, weird, obsessive, extreme and one strange little girl but I am perfect at being the me I am right now in this moment, today… as I walk away.


You’re a megalomaniac.


~I know.


You really have to leave?




Well goodnight hun.


~Goodbye dear.



It’s been five months since I walked out of that apartment that night.  Away from a woman that was a sister to me. 


Turns out she was then and is now is sister to a dead woman. A dead woman who in life had delighted in misery, who always said I can’t, who blamed others for her problems, who used everything from weather to weight as an excuse not live fully.    I know this woman is dead because I offed the pathetic punk ass bitch … I only keep her pictures around as a warning.


A warning to never ever be that woman again


That wasn’t how it started though.

I wanted to help this person see her own beauty, her own power.  But I wasn’t strong enough to lift myself let alone her.  So I sank down besides her… spent hours with her at the grave of our dreams in happy content mourning.


Occasionally I would tell her things like

You can do it

You deserve happy

You should stop giving away your power

You have to cut the toxic people out of your life


I tried to pound this message into her repeatedly and one day I got bitch slapped by the universe and realized that the unsolicited unheeded advice I was giving was really meant for me.  That this person I was so close to was a reflection of myself…. I didn’t like what I saw.  So I took my own advice. 



She’s calling now.

This sister to a dead woman.

She is sending out the usual feelers in all the usual directions


And I am at a loss

Wondering if I am strong enough now to take her on.

Wondering if my lesson is to let go.


Apr. 22nd, 2009 05:07 pm
missrenie: (Default)

You passed by me today, asked me what my weekend was gonna be like and when I tell you, you laugh in that condescending way you have
a disparaging way meant to degrade my lifestyle and choices,
a contemptible way meant to corrupt  my hard earned social and spiritual freedoms

When you laugh like this I am surprised

I am surprised because your disguised jealousy and your lonely misplaced aggressions do not effect me. And I am glad...

I'm glad that song by Lily Allen was playing in the background...
you know "fuck you... fuck you very much"
It filled the silence nicely as I merely smiled brightly. 
It sang along at every pause while you reminded me of out dated goals that I had listed in October when my life was agonizing instead of amazing. 
It replied in its chipper up beat way making a shield of brightly colored wings around me that you couldn't get though,
that lifted me up above you
and I could see that it annoyed you.

Cause even if you couldn't catch the words of the song
You caught the drift of what I was saying
"I'm happy now, I've found where and who I need to be.  Don't worry your little head about me sugah."

And I turn away
turned up the music
and listen to you fade way into the background.

Look inside
Look inside your tiny mind
Now look a bit harder
Cause we're so uninspired, so sick and tired of all the hatred you harbor

Do you
Do you really enjoy living a life that's so hateful?
Cause there's a hole where your soul should be
Your losing control of it and it's really distasteful

Fuck you
Fuck you very, very much
Cause your words don't translate and it's getting quite late
So please don't stay in touch

Fuck you
Fuck you very, very much
Cause your words don't translate and it's getting quite late
So please don't stay in touch
missrenie: (Default)
started writing this months ago when I started challenging the lines in my own life
Yesterday it completed itself.  At least the first part.  I have a feeling that it will keep changing
as I change



All the lines in all the world
are merely sensible suggestions

Made to be pushed and challenged charged
by deviants with questions

Be wary those who break  through
to taste the other side

You'll find Infinities ocean
vast with unknown depth and wide

These uncharted liberated seas
create thrilling, frightening  rides

Not for faint of heart
nor common sense
or those beset with pride

Tis a place for fools and hedonists
activists, artists
unsung and unknown

They know that surviving the drown'd depths
Often means you swim alone

missrenie: (Default)

How could you?

Why would you do it?

Pursue me so boldly and then lack the courage to keep me.


I asked you three times to state your intentions towards me because I know me and you claimed to know me.  But I think you were wrong in your assessment of me, else you would not have erred so grossly.

Had you have truly known me you would have known that when I opened myself to you, when I wrapped my legs around your hips and took you inside of me that it was no mere physical thing.  That the hunger was deeper than carnal desires of flesh and bone.

You should have known that when I grabbed your hair and looked you in the eyes and said:

I want you

that I wanted You!


You who amidst the cover of night against the glow of my candles danced to the rhythm we created together

You who spoke so perfectly and sweetly, who called my name over and over as if I were some earth bound goddess.

You who held me in his arms as I cried out the grief of years of heart stabbing aching loneness

You who had the gall to look into my eyes as you lay over me, as you worked above, as you came.


I can’t believe you could be so utterly spineless and afraid and stupid enough to let me go.


I asked you what you intentions were to me and you answered then

And now, now after being with me, seeing me in a way in which I have not even shown my ex lover of nine years you tell me you don’t know

That you are not sure!


How could you?

Why would you?

You who watched me struggle, break myself, rebuild myself

You who waited so patiently for me to notice you


How could you mend my heart and break it so quickly?

Are you afraid of me?  Of this?

Did you feel more than you expected?

I would ask if you were such the talented actor that faked it and felt nothing at all. But your body didn’t lie.  Your breath and heartbeat, your embrace, the sound of my name on your lips, your low guttural moan, your loss of control so quickly, your body’s resounding answer to my own body’s plea.


Or could I be the stupid one here. 

Was everything perfect because you waited so long to say it, to do it to me?

Or was it perfect because you had done it before to someone else?


I guess that does not matter right now does it?

Because in my idiocy I refuse to believe that you lied to me, and I can see the struggle in your eyes when you look at me, but know this sir…


I am your perfect woman and like your perfect idea or your perfect cup of coffee I will not stay hot forever. 

I am all those things you said, sexy, beautiful, intelligent and frighteningly strong. I am also courageous and bold and oh so fucking worthy of one who is just the same.


I was


Horribly and grievously mistaken to believe you to be that person.




My patience ebbs

My adoration will wane



Your loss will be great.

missrenie: (magnoliah)

I always wanted to be a Top. Ever since I was a little girl. It was either a Mother Superior or a Dominatrix. And now finally at the age of 27 I am in the right place at the right time.

And I’ve started in a position that I never ever could imagine myself being in but am so glad that I did. I bear the lash so that I may be better at giving it. I  bow in service so I understand what it means to receive it.

I have learned to apperciate the awesome physical and emotional responsibility you take when you give pain that is turned into a tormenting pleasure.

There is much to do and learn and feel and experience.
but what I have experienced so far is the tip of the iceberg
what I have felt so far is the beautiful and terrifying freedom of bondage
and what I have learned is the power and strength it takes to school yourself under the lash and behind the blindfold.

The submissive is not with out will the dominate is very much subject to it as well. And I seek to be a model student so that I may in turn be a Magnificent Master

See more progress on: become a Dominatrix
missrenie: (Default)

I haven't broke down...
just a couple of tears here and there.

I thought I was functioning and functioning well.  Work, massage, exercise, social life, water intake, weekly chores...

One of my weekly chores is grocery shopping.  I decided to treat myself to trader joes and whole foods.  I came home toting two reusable cloth bags stocked with greens and goodies and went directly to the  fridge to put them away... but I couldn't.

I couldn't because they wasn't any space for them

There wasn't any space for them because I still had food in the fridge from last week

Which was odd because I haven't gone out to eat lately.

I dropped the bags on the floor and sat down infront of the fridge to think while my roomate's pitbull Tank decided whether or not he liked fresh my fresh burdock root… he didn’t


The numbers in my head just didn’t add up and I had to resort to pen and paper to figure out just what I had been eating for the past two weeks.  Turns out there were whole days where I didn’t eat at all.  And most days I had homemade hummus and veggies, no breakfast, no dinner…

This at least explains the reason why I have been so light headed


Some how I had swung from miss compulsive over eater to miss missing meals regularly.

The disturbing thing was that I wasn’t disturbed.


So I talked to Dre

And I figured out

That I am trying to end all my toxic relationships, all my controlling relationships, all my limiting relationships… including my oft fucked up relationship with food.


So last night I tried again.

I sat on the couch with a small container of roasted veggies and after three bites I broke down crying.  Really crying…


Me crying,

fucking sobbing into a bowl of shitake mushrooms for christ sakes!!

I gave up, drank a liter and a half of water and called it a night.


This morning I went to the Dr. to see about my ankle and found out that I dropped 3 more pounds over the weekend.  It’s not like I can’t stand to lose the weight.  But I don’t want to give myself a complex in the process…  I really don’t need another one.


I made it through the meal today...mushrooms and all.  Even though every time I reached for the bowl I ended up grabbing the water bottle instead… it took me an hour to eat.



(fucking sigh)

missrenie: (Default)

The message was a few lines:

Yeah, it is time for me to wish you happy birthday again, without having seen you for a year.  So much happened in your life since I’ve seen you and I don’t know the half of it.  Sigh

Hope you aren’t hiding in a hole and are out there living the good life. Lots of people love you a lot and you need to keep in touch with them!  SoCal? Really?  What’s up with that?  Anyway, if you want to know about my life, you have to tell me about yours.


I typed in "Nothing much I'm a massage therapist now :)" and almost hit send.

But I didn't
Alot has happened.
Alot has changed. 
To say oh nothing would be a gross understatement.  So I told her what happened to me.... in third person.   Not because I am an ego maniac, but because its really too painful to think of myself as this stupid.
It helped... it truly helped

Because now I know where I have been
Although I can see where I am going
Even if I'm far from certain of where I’ll end up
That's just fine with me

Because I made it  here… I am exactly where I need to be.

Where I am supposed to be  and where I chose to be.



 __Our Story so Far__



We last left our unlikely heroine in San Jose.  It was the end of February 2007  beginning of March.  She had just successfully:

-gotten one of her friends out of a physically and emotionally abusive relationship, 

-reluctantly left her stable albeit low paying job at the law firm to navigate the unpredictable torrid waters of  Los Angeles at  her fiancées enthusiastic and guilt riddled request

-sold or giving away 90% of her personal belongs in preparation for the relocation

- and moved in with his parents.

-and is engaged in an open relationship with fiancee and said from above friend.

Two weeks later (still in withdrawal from the massive ego high of playing the moaner) she is working at Walgreens  i.e. the "Pit of Despair".   Her fiancée who is unemployed and has been since November of 2006  is depressed and mentally MIA due to the apparent fall through of the LA thing (soon to be termed the “Great LA Fiasco of 2006”) . This leaves her to fend off debit collectors, default payments, and the repo man on her lonesome.

In April  while busting her ass at Walgreens i.e suckville USA, facing financial ruin and living with her fiancée’s dysfunctional family  her fiancée is not only passing his time crawling into World of Warcraft the way some manic depressives crawl into a bottle but also crawling into the “friend” she helped out of dire situation.  Although the relationship is an open one and she understands that means sex  she’s hurt… he should have been spending at least some of that time doing the laundry... this can not continue.  
She goes to speak to him about her leaving Wal-hell and instead of getting the comfort/promise to help out that she is hoping for she is cut off and mournfully inquired as to wether or not she is leaving him.

She thinks to herself that that is a brillant idea and replies enthuastically in the affirmative.
He is so overcome that he leaves her bed to go into the bed of his other partner the "friend" who comes and tells her that she will help her get back home to New Orleans.  Our heroine finally puts 2 and 2 together as the "friend" embraces her and tells her to just let it all out.   She cries but mostly out of the halirity of the situations.  She realizes that this is single white female without all the white females.

She decides to let the "friend" and former fiancee ride off into the sunset together.  She knows he will be back because... well the friend isn't her.  And she is right.  It took all of 7 days before it all went to hell for the new little unit.  The friend leaves the fiancee comes back and confesses that the friend was making him choose between them for the last few months and telling her that she was a cold, heartless, selfish and going to leave him for someone better anyway.  He now realizes that
swf has been twisting her words and manipulating him.

Our main girl realized that 8 days ago.  "Why didn't you ask me how I felt"  she asks and for the first time is really hurt.... even more than she was over the laundry.


His excuse

She was becoming distant

Her excuse for becoming distant

His not bringing in money, helping with the chores, or looking for a job was a personal pet peeve and massive turn-off.


This recent turn of events inspires her toward her own semi-dramatic mental break down (why should he get all the fun).   She quits, moves into the spare bedroom, re-evaluates her life and enrolls in massage school all with-in 48 hours.  She figures she has nothing else to lose.  Its now early May.

By the end of May she has a job that pays her twice what the other use too, her ex-fiancée is her fiancée again (our heroine is obviously injecting heroin)  and the LA job offer finally looks like it is going to go through.  She refuses to go to LA despite the pleading of the fiancée and his mother.  She realizes that she had given up way to much of her life and needs to get herself straight and on track because she can’t depend on him for anything stable.

He doesn’t go to LA without her.

It’s now July and lo and behold after eight months he finally joins her in the land of productive adults.  He gets a job.She’s overjoyed. After all last time he was unemployed it took him a year to find a job.  He’s cut his refresh rate down by 4 months!!!

They go to couples counseling.

Her week looks like this

40 hrs work
10 hrs traffic
16 hrs school
5  hrs gym
10 hrs massage application

She still comes home and does the laundry and cooking because even though he only works 25-35 hours a week and lives close to his job he forgets to do chores.  And she is too exhausted to complain.


It’s August and she wants to move into their own place… he suggest they wait until she finishes school.  Besides her rent money helps his mom out a lot since his dad hasn’t worked in 25 years.  It’s a good thing they do because in February he is unemployed again.  Happy New Year!!!!


In May 2008 she graduates from NHI.  And becomes a Certified Massage Therapist.  She has held down a 3.96 GPA and has been class leader for the past six months.  She has made wonderful friends for life, conquered an obsessive compulsive eating disorder, discovered how awesome life could be with a self esteem and started calculations regarding her own personal worth.


She tells him she is moving out in three months.  He can only come with her if he starts acting like a man. By late July he has a job.  But in August she starts to notice patterns, cycles, red flags, unacceptable behavior ( he fucks around on her while she's at home visiting her mother for the first time in three years) and she slaps herself.  She looks at her relationship closely and is finally able to see that 3d image 75% of the population insisted was there but she declared as a hoax.


There is a laundry list of things but is sums up to this.  He is not the man(baby) she wants in her life and she does not want to be the woman (mother) he needs her to be in his.  All signs point to yes, the stars are (mis)aligned… they must part ways. 


Since they still share a car she gives him until the end of September to get his affairs in order.  It’s a slow but friendly break up… so far.


Because despite everything.


She still loves him.

He made mistakes, she certainly has made mistakes.  They both have been selfish, and childish, easy to defer blame, accept undeserved credit and shun self responsibility.


She still loves him


In her heart she wishes things could have been different.  Nine years…for  nine years.  He has been her best friend, her lover, her partner, her shining knight, her shoulder to lean on, both crutch and hurdle, simultaneous curse and cure.

And she has been that to him.


She still loves him


But she knows her worth and has chosen to love herself more.


The new chapter begins this October.
All my love,


ps.  There are something’s I left out... like scandalous kink, moonlight skinny dipping, semi naked photo shoot, losing my car, and a brain tumor scare...  But all those things resolve themselves for the best.


missrenie: (Default)


It's easy to write about myself. 

Just myself.

It's therapy.

At one point in my life I went crazy from keeping too many secrets...

I don't want to have secrets. 


Secrets turn to lies and headaches so I just get it all out.  I live head deep in exhibitionism because if anyone likes me I want it to be for me.  With every flaw, for every ill shaped notion, for every crude word and weakness.  I do this because while I love acting I hate pretending.  I hate people pretending to be something they are not.  You get close to them and find out that they are someone completely different.  I don't want to do go through that.  So I don't do it. 


I live out loud.

I don't have secrets… I have the occasional delusion but I don't have secrets.

Just myself


It's easy to write about myself.

But I can't write this without writing about you.  So I will write it to you.  Even though we've already had this conversation months ago.  I will write it to you. And if you read this… when you read this I hope you forgive me. Just like you've forgiven every flaw, every ill shaped notion, every crude word and weakness. 


 It's been heaven, it's been hell.  It's been wonderful, it's been a war and there are casualties on both sides.  I need space and time and healing. 


You're beautiful to me… did you know that?  Did I tell you often enough? 

I love you even though I am leaving.  I really truly deeply do.  I think I always will.


We laugh now…easily.  Did you notice?  Ever since we talked and agreed not to emo out about this.  We agreed that since there is not enough space on the cross for both of us neither of us was allowed to go up there.  Cause it wasn't fair. 


What we've done to ourselves wasn't fair

What we've done to eachother wasn't fair


You know what else isn't fair... having to explain this to your mom.  To our other friends, to our family.  Sitting there as they shake their heads and say "I told you so" or "What a shame... we really thought you two would make it" or "You should have married eachother sooner and then you would not be going through this" or "Whose to blame?" and the worst one...the absolute worst fucking one. "Don't you love each other any more?"


But between you and me...

Are you excited?

Are you terrified?

Are you sad?


I am.

Excited about my own place, my own stuff, finally dear goddess MY OWN


Terrified about going it alone, stepping away from the ledge, letting go of the edge and trying to swim, daring to fly without your hand in mine, without your voice in my ear, without the safety of your net.


Sad because if I change too much if you change too much,   you or me or we may not want us anymore…


I dread the conversations we haven't even had yet.  In the future.  A year or two from now.  If you pass me by with someone on your arm and wave at me and smile that sweet smile as you introduce us to each other.  Would I blush and stutter, would I compare myself to her, would I be insanely jealous or genuinely happy… would I have someone too?



I don't blame you… well not anymore

I hope you don't blame me.


This is an ending

This is an beginning

We bring this chapter to us to a close

And we open a new book on ourselves.



one day

we can be a part of each other's story.
missrenie: (Tree of Knowledge)
I had forgotten
amidst years of conflict
amidst years of conditioning
amidst years of conforming

I had forgotten
my worth
my beauty
my self

I cast it off of me in order to wear a lesser garment of lesser value.
I painted my face with the lies of a commercialist society
I strapped my chest with the fears of friends and family
I clothed myself
From tit to hip
from hip to toe in you...
to blend
to disappear
to die
because I believed that fighting was too messy for you
because I believed that changing was too difficult to do
because I believed it was easier
to run
to hide
to give in

The fabric has worn thin

and as I stand
skin red and raw

I stare
and see
just me

and me screams:

I am tiered of wallowing
I am nary not swallowing
one more fucking thing

I’m tied of choking
When its time for me to sing

I’m tied of crawling
Cause you pulling on my wings

The lies you spittin are starting to bore me
I’m gonna be my own best success story

Now is time for a Reclamation
To which I make this proclamation
To Untame
To Rename
To Reclaim me

can not you see
undA NU mangeMEnt ='s A NU ME
it's time to stop trying
it's time to stop crying
it's time to be
it's time to       come
it's time for                   me 


Jan. 24th, 2008 03:31 pm
missrenie: (Default)

 Years ago when I was at Dillard University (Dear gawdess 8 years ago. Am I really that old now?)… I had a sensei.  She was a short Japanese woman with hair the color of oil, eyes as warm as coal and a voice as soft as a dark winter's coat. Even though her actions and her mannerisms were nothing but kind and gentle it only took a single spark to set her off .  Oil burned, coal glowed and someone was going to get it.  She normally reserved these outbursts for when the class failed to grasp something after it was repeated 100 times. 

Sensei invited me into her office once.  I had never been given a direct summons  and we just completed finals. I assumed I had passed but the cocky arrogant self assurance fleeted away with each step that I took down that short corridor to her door.   After about 5 minutes of pleasantries exchanged in Japanese with a lot of "I'm sorry please repeat one more time" on my part and being offered candy twice, she handed the paper to me.

There was a 98 written neatly in the top right hand corner

"You had the highest grade in the class" I was silent but I smiled. "You didn't study did you?"

My need to brag got the better of me. "No I paid attention in class.  I knew I would get an A!"   I was so excited.  I felt like I had won the lottery.  I couldn't wait to tell Terick.

She shook her head "You did not study and still you make the highest grade.  That tells me some thing about you." she pushed the candy dish towards me again. There's only one reason why a  nice old woman offers you candy three times the first time is courtesy the second also politeness the third time is to sweeten something bitter. I took one this time.  She waited until I had un-wrapped it and popped it into my mouth before she continued. She sat back in her chair and folded her hands into her lap.

"You are intelligent and things come easy for you but you are undisciplined.  You lack focus.  Your few mistakes were stupid ones that could have been avoided.  Yes you make an A but it should have been perfect.  I am disappointed in your performance."  It's impolite to talk with your mouth full.  I could not speak up in defense. I knew this.  She knew I knew this.  She kept talking. 

"You have many talents.  But unless you have discipline in your life your talents will be wasted your life will be wasted.  You will continue to make stupid mistakes."

She was quite again and I thought.:
about all the stupid mistakes that I had made so far in my life and how easily they could have been avoided.
my numerous accomplishments and how worthless they felt in the end.
how the many chances I had to step into something truly great but I let it pass me by.  I was afraid to really try because I was afraid to really fail.
I settled for mediocrity.  I was just insanely lucky that my mediocrity was above average.  

"Yes you can make an A but it is worthless.  It might as well be an F.  This is not just about the test this is about life… You understand me Irene-chan?"   

The sweet taste of strawberries and milk that flowed down my throat was met with a

sob rushing up fast from the emptiness below and suddenly I was crying like 3 year old child. I  nodded.  All I could do was swallow the truth with the candy to wash it down.  She stood from her desk to give m me a tissue and placed a hand on my shoulder.  It took a bit for me to stop crying.  When I finally did she pressed three more candies into my hand before sending me on my way.


Eight years passed
And throughout that time
I continued to make stupid mistakes
I continued to live in mediocrity

I am just now using the key that my sensei gave me years ago.  I've opened the door and there's no turning back.  I am coming to the end of a particularly strenuous chapter in my life.  I have balanced full time school and full time work while salvaging a seriously damaged relationship, conquering many self limitations, and overcoming a thirteen year old eating disorder. I'm in the final leg of this race and yes I am tired, yes I am afraid.  But  I have discipline.

So when I walk down that aisle with full honors  it will be because I fucking earned it, because I gave everything I had, because I poured myself into it.

This isn't about a test.  This isn't about a grade.  This is about life and wether I succeed brilliantly or fail fantastically absolutely nothing will be mediocre about it

missrenie: (Default)




Why glitter is the herpes of the art world

Why it's not a good idea to adjust your seat while driving downhill 10 miles over the speed limit

Working in Walgreen's suck dirty nasty flying monkey balls

Silence is an important part of communication



How to say the words "I love you Dad" without choking in the words dad, you, love and I or bursting out in fits of demonic laughter while simultaneously drowning in a veil of tear that would make even the angels weep

How to walk down stairs in heels while talking

To graciously accept a complement

To correctly apply the mantra of "fuck it" when dealing with situations beyond my control

Per my mother's example: How to flip people the almighty fuck you with out them noticing ( I think)

How to say things like "His decreased range of motion in the cervical region while performing lateral flexion may be due to tightness in the sternocleidomastoid or even the scalenes. I suggest myofascial therapies to include proprioceptive neuromuscular facilitation as a method to promote balance in his overall posture." (and I can write it in short hand too)

How to not laugh at loud at the slight misfortunes of others

How to laugh riotously at my own grand misfortunes

How to change my pants, bra, shirt and freshen my make up while driving.

How to get undressed in a room with 20 other people

How to orgasm in front of 300 people

To Concentrate, Meditate, and Embrace TIGER!!!!

To load and shoot a 9mm gun safely and with confidence (Thanks Scott!!!!)


The importance of

The importance of forgiving others.

Living a purpose driven life.


What wookie berries are

What dirty nasty flying monkey balls taste like... on account of working at Walgreen's




When it is appropriate to laugh and swear obnoxiously in a movie theater (i.e Army of Darkness, Rocky Horror, Snakes on a Plane) and when it is not (Golden Compass, Titanic, )

When its best to walk away and when its best to fight

Working at Walgreen's it is best to rinse with Listerine daily to combat the taste of dirty nasty flying monkey balls

When it is time to let go... sadly I have yet to learn the how of it.

When in conflict sometimes the best course of action is to do nothing



I really like what the money that I make myself can buy

Working in Walgreen's sucks dirty nasty flying monkey balls

That I can work 40 hrs a week, go to school for 16, commute for 10, and not curl into a fetal position by weeks end

That I can be arrogant, pushy, and wonderfully indignant when given the opportunity

That I am marvelously imperfect and magnificently flawed and that by changing, recreating, reshaping myself... I change, recreate and reshape my world.

That just because you go to sleep does not mean you will wake up sober (this is heart breaking)

While it is completely appropriate to say kiss my ass ever once in a one should always strive for impact with it's delivery… i.e. try saying it with your best stepford wife's smile will tilting your head slightly to the left or right (your choice) With hands clasped together in your lap. If at all possible add in a nervous tic (not too much though wouldn't want to over do it)

With that said I am stronger:

Than I ever thought myself to be

That I have learned more thing than I can ever hope to put down here.

That there is much more to learn than I can ever know



But the most important thing I have learned this year is that there are lessons and truths all aroune me
These lessons and truths impact my  beliefs.
My beliefs dictate my actions.
My actions create me.
While these lessons are important they are not carved in stone.
They are instead like a  river that constantly changes as I change.
Flowing in and out of me

Change is inevitable constant, unstoppable
It is foolish to fear that over which I have no control

Ultimate control is an illusion
Act without fear of losing control
and my beliefs will be free of fear
my eyes will be open wider and recieve  more lessons and more truths
because I fear not change, I seek not control
 I understand and accept that this core lesson can change as well


There is only one thing that does not change,
one thing that is constant....

Working at Walgreen's sucks big nasty flying monkey balls.

missrenie: (Default)

I'm sweating like a pig, everything hurts, I'm tired, it's late I have 5 more minutes to go but I think I'm gonna call it quits besides I look like an idiot doing this.
    Everyone else is too busy with themselves to notice you hun
To notice me huffing and puffing pathetically on this machine
    They are panting too

I can't breathe
    It's an illusion

my chest is closing
    It's an illusion

I can't breathe
    Force it in two sharp inhales

It hurts
    One long exhale

My heart is going to explode
    Two sharp inhales

I can't keep this up
    past the chest

My throat is dry
    Into the core

My head hurts
    Exhale the pain

I can't do this
    You can

Fuck you I won't
    You fuck yourself if you don't…In the end it isn't them. It isn't even the weight, it isn't about the health. Its about you. It's about you rejecting         yourself. It's about you accepting me

You're deluded
    And you're afraid to admit it

Admit what?
    Admit that you want to be me. That you want to feel good. Admit that you are strong enough, worthy enough, wonderful enough

I know all those things I just don't have to be an arrogant ass about it.
    That's a fantastic line of bullshit. You're a goddamn goddess and you know it.

Screw you "We come nearest to being great when we are great in humility." -Rabindranath Tagore said that… Zen Master Li Yuansong stated that enlightenment can come only after humility - the wisdom of realizing one's own ignorance, insignificance and lowliness, without which one cannot see the truth. So like I said before you're fucking deluded.
    Then consider this your enlightenment sugah:
    Humility: noun 1. a disposition to be humble; a lack of false pride Keyrod being false.
    Humility: one of many things that help keep your proverbial cosmic cup empty and open to receive the transcendental radio waves.
    Humility: Negative calorie, zero cosmic cup space when compared to arrogance and pride.
    But here's a news flash honey. Your cup is full to the brim and not with humility. Its full with self loathing,contempt,detestation, disgust,
    dislike, enmity, hatred, repugnance, revulsion don't mistake the malice you hold within your self against yourself for modesty "Humility is n
    ot only meek but benevolent and forgiving. It seeks to overcome evil with good". A saint said that. Your self abashment is evil. What you
    have is not humility it is hate and that is a horrible disservice to yourself, to everyone one who knows you and to anyone who has yet to
    know you. So like I said before:
    It isn't even the weight, it isn't about the health
    Its about you
    It's about you rejecting yourself
    It's about you accepting me
    Because I am you
    And I am strong enough, worthy enough, wonderful enough
    I'm a god damn goddess and I know it.

The funny thing (ah snap funny , wtf funny, funny in a "I did leave the curling iron on, on top of that dry stack of leaves in the garage next to the gas tank way funny)
Is that I do know it
I force in two sharp breaths
I exhale out the pain in my chest, the throb in my head, the ache in my heart
I match my rhythm to that of the music
I lower my head, lean forward
I push with everything I've got
I'm running in place
As I am moving forward
@ high speed
Ready to collide with myself

I do 30 minutes more
And so can you.
15 pounds or 150, whether it be school, work, play, a mountain to climb an addiction to overcome, a fear to face, and belief to displace…. You are strong enough, worthy enough, wonderful enough. To give up, to believe that you are less is a disservice to yourself, to everyone one who knows you and to anyone who has yet to know you. Shine brightly and fuck the rest… just do 30 minutes, 30 seconds, 30 steps more.
missrenie: (Default)

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear..."


When I was a child I hid my smile behind my hand because of my protruded and widely gapped teeth.  I held my head down. I let my hair fall in my face.  I didn't laugh.  I would purposely think of horrible, tragic things to keep my lips closed, to keep my "offending" disfigurement locked away.   I hoped they would forget, hoped they wouldn't tease me anymore… hoped today was the day they would let me play with them.
At home, after I had my bath, I would hold my drying towel just over my nose.  I would smile widely.  I would imagine the mouth I wanted below my nose: thin pink lips with complete with two pristine rows of white bright teeth behind them.

I would smile my perfect smile and they would accept me
But I was wrong


When I was a teenager I used to worry as I danced with someone.  As their body pressed against mine, as his or her hands would go to my back, my waist, my hips I would imagine disdain and disgust lurking behind the bedroom eyes, the soft smile.  As they tilted their head I imagined them listening to my fears and deciding it was true
A moment that was sweet and sensuous suddenly becomes torment and torture. 
After the song had ended or the kiss parted and I was home in the dark, where no one could see me, when I was safe in my bed sweating beneath a pile of covers. I imagined my waist thin enough for her to place her hands around, my hips narrow, my legs longer than an anime school girl's.

I would walk into a room with those long, long legs and they would accept me
But I was wrong

When I was a young woman I hid my truth behind a thick and tangled matted mess of lies.  I rationalized these lies.  I told myself that if I did not tell them mom would worry and sister would be disappointed, friends would be overtly concerned.  It is better for them not to know the truth.   Not to know the secrets.
And as I slept  locked in my nightmares and dreams my truth and my lies would wage a bitter battle in a wearisome war.  Which I  told myself  I was wining.  

I convinced myself that the weight of those lies was not too much to carry.
But I was wrong and it broke me


Now I am a woman
and as I stand besides the table,
as I place my hands upon the base of his feet
as I lower my voice and drop into a dancers stance,
as I tell him softly:  breath…  just breath... deeply… all the way into your center. 
I can hear the nagging voice in my mind. 
If you fail then you are worthless, if you disappoint then your training is pointless.  If you mess up then it is because of a serious shortcoming in your compassion a  fatal fault in your intuition, a devistating defect in your being…

But I inhale  and realize that…
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear... "

I exhale my inaccurate ego.
I inhale my accurate self
I begin
"I" suddenly disappear.
And the best of me remains.

The art of touch has taught me these truths about myself.  How I let my fear of being rejected and my inaccurate ego infect everything in my life.  And how wonderful life can be when I move past this. How I should not only look upon my client with the eyes of compassion but also myself.  

As my intent flows from me in an deep yet effortless effleurage, as I create a space for that persons body to heal itself ... I myself am healed and freed.
Free of the fear.
Free of the inaccurate ego.

It is beautiful
It is humbling
It is love
And it spills out to illuminate every aspect of my life, touching everything that I put hand or mind to. 

This truth
this way of touching
this way of being the best of me.


"…I will face my fear... I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
                                                         ~Frank Herbert, Dune

missrenie: (Default)
Current mood: creative
I was talking to someone not so long ago and it occured to me that in a not so distant past I was so arrogant to belive that I was the only one going through some epic battle between the good me and the shitty me. or that I was the only dealing with my problems. So this is a reminder to myself that I'm not the only one....
and neither are you

You ain't the only one (But you are)

You ain't the only one who got a life
You ain't the only one who can shake that tail
You ain't the only one who can jump and jive
Sleep all day
fuck all night
and wail
You ain't the only somebody that wants to cry
Mad at mama/ daddy/ sistah/ brotha
Wishin' a mean nasty death on your trifling ex-lova
You ain't the only trying to try
Trying not to die
Trying to get by
You ain't the only somebody that has a dream
You ain't the only somebody that can scream
You ain't the only somebody composed of pure cream
Floating to the top
Never gonna give up
Never gonna stop

You ain't the only one who has had to fuss or fight
Work two jobs or go to school at night
Been hated or judge by the color of their skin
Wanted to rip off someone's head off
but had to keep it in

You ain't the only one that can make sweet love
Had they pussy licked or dick sucked good
Had it laid down so well that you forgot
Just what hell yall were just arguing about
What were yall arguing about?
How he said this and she said that
How you feel you're the only one that got anyone's back
In this world
But you ain't the only one hun
You ain't the only one deprived of all the fun
You ain' the only one always on the run
You ain't the only one dodging bullets from life's gun
But you are
You are
Living your life from your own unique point of view
What's true for me may not be true for you
Because you are
But let's not kid ourselves sugah
even though this may sound lame
The journey may be different but the destination is the same
There ain't shit you can do totally by yourself
'sides maybe die or take the blame
So yeah we may be different
but in the end its really the same
Blood is blood
Pain is pain
We both get wet if we stand out in the rain
I'm not trying to bully or bertate
And I ain't trying to say that you aren't great
And I ain't trying to start no mess yo
Yah moms wasn't lying when she said you are special
Because you are
Living life from your unique point of view
I'm saying you are mind blowing,
Its true
I'm saying you're somethin' else my dear
But honey I am too!
missrenie: (Default)

Tea –noun
5.any of various infusions prepared from the leaves, flowers, etc., of other plants, and used as beverages or medicines.
10.one's cup of tea, something suitable, appropriate, or attractive to one: Horror movies and westerns are just not my cup of tea.

We complain about our lives… I complain about my life… sometimes I down right bitch about it. This is not a bad thing. Complaining helps me realize that there is a problem that I need to fix. However excessive complaining is a problem in itself. This is where the tea comes in. Good tea.. .not that lipton shit.
Good Tea is not just tossed together. It is not just an accident. The seed has to be planted, the seed has to grow, the plant must be harvested, the harvest must be separated from the chaff, the leaves must be dried carefully, water must almost boil, then the leaves must regenerated themselves in seemingly opposing elements fire like heat and water, and just when they blossom and unfurl once again releasing like a butterfly emerging from the cocoon their life essence gets taken from them, infused changed into something new. For great tea there must be an even greater patience. I myself and my life itself are no different than the tea.
Which touches on :
Personal Truth 3
There is a Tao to everything. If you open yourself to it (but that is for another day)
The things that happen in my life are not just accidents… well not everything :).
Life is like the tea. Sometimes we brew it for ourselves sometimes other people brew it for us. We brew with actions, and reactions and thoughts. We pick our ingredients (actively or passively) … sometimes some bastards sneak up behind you and toss something in the mix. Other times we see them put it in and just let it stay… too lazy to pick it out ourselves, or too afraid to displease them.

And when the tea is done we drink
It tastes like shit
We bitch
And pour another cup
Toast and bottoms up
If it ain't my cup of tea… why the fuck am I drinking it?! Why complain and then do nothing. Why did I fill myself with the same bitter drink over and over again. Because I was worried that if I spit it out I would look like a stuck up ungrateful bitch, I was worried that it was too late to start a new batch, grow new plants and wait for a new harvest, and no matter how appalling the taste was I knew what too expect… and in that there was comfort despite the discomfort.
My mom is teaching me all about tea.
She is at the age now where she does not want me to admit how old I am because people will figure out how old she is… but she is starting a whole new brew for herself from just the seeds. She has the courage to spit, too not drink, to demand a better quality from herself. She has no idea what it will come out like or even if she will be able to finish it at all. And that is inspiring.
She laughed at me when I told her I was hesitant about starting everything over. She said that she understood my fear but that I was a silly hussy for using that as an excuse. If the shoe is fucking up your foot kick it off and if something in your life, whether it be a person, a thing, a job, a situation a habit is not your cup of tea i.e. ."Something suitable, appropriate, or attractive to one" stop accepting it in your life. Fill your cup with something else and stop being such a silly hussy.
I am mama and I love you.

The truth.

Jul. 11th, 2007 04:08 pm
missrenie: (Default)
"You're lying
about something", she said as she held her hand over my neck. I could feel the reiki moving through her and into me. A heartbeat formed in my throat. Pulsing, throbbing "Or is your throat sick?"
"My throat has been a little sick, a little scratchy."

The truth is that I was lying
About a lot of things
Important things

See the truth is this, this thing that I do not want to look at. The truth means questions and answer with messy routes to get to them. Straight forward as those answers are… they may still cause heads to rolls, feelings to get hurt, illusions shattered into tiny shards of sand, dreams dashed dramatically against razor pointed proverbial rocks (not all my dreams… other peoples dreams too). And I just feel like…

I already waded through a big pile of bullshit and now that I reached the other side and scrambled up the hill I hoped to see a spa treatment fit for at least a demi-goddess instead I find another mind blowing pile of bull. I guess I have a lot more to learn… or better yet I have to apply to my life the things that I have learned. So yeah I'm not Jedi yet but damn Yoda can't you cut a gurl some slack?

This truth thing touches every part of my life

Its not lies that I told other people… I used to lie a lot as a child and as a young adult because I wanted people to like me. No matter how much I dressed in multiple layers of black with matching onyx nail lacquer and shied away from who I considered to be the brain washed masses. I wanted to be liked and loved.
Since accepting this and growing up a bit and realizing that so what if every one does not like me I stopped lying… so much… It's still kinda hard to tell certain people when some article of clothing, collectible trinket, or behavior is the reason the word ugly was created

It's lies that I told myself… about myself that are getting to me. That tasty yet empty meal of delusions
Appetizer: Denial
Soup Course: Luke warm serving of Settling
Main Course: Self Destructive Behaviors
And for Dessert: Anything that you can convince yourself it true (which is harder to get rid of than cellulite)
And its all coming back up
And it stinks and burns

I knew when I started this whole… "Living my life to my fullest potential" thing that it was going to be an experience that words could not quite capture. This is not a singular experience. Every one has gone through it in some degree or form or fashion. It is different for everyone and in its purest essence it is the same. I have watched the people that I have admired struggle through it and emerge as (again a loss for words)
I'm not depressed or even daunted

I'm just tired

The truth takes everything from you
Things that you think you need
The truth takes everything from you
And leaves just you.
A frighteningly beautiful limitless you .
It's just a difficult detox
Its uncomfortable.

And at this moment and in this now I just want someone to hold back my hair for me.


missrenie: (Default)

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