missrenie: (Tree of Knowledge)

It's always sad when a hero dies.

But its heart wrenching when that hero "dies" to you... when you have to change how you see them or sever yourself from them in defense.

I'm angry because it did not have to be this way.

There are alot of things I did wrong partially because I have never had to deal with such an exhausting personality so closely. But even with my lack of experience the only thing I can honestly apologize for it holding you up to those hero standards. You didn't ask to be my hero its something that kinda happened. It was unfair of me to think of you as such.  You have made me stronger and you've shown me how to confront on the battle field of life.  I'm not sure that lesson would have reached me if you did not have the capacity to be such a bully. 

In the near future when I am not so angry, injured or indignant I will tell you that you lack the compassion you expect to receive from others, that you lack the respect you demand from others and that once you attained your future would be limitless for this is the key to your success.  In my dream world you would listen and hear and change and go on to touch the world in the same positive way in which you have changed and touched mine.

I'm not doing this for you, for your acceptance, for your love, for your respect although I know I was at one point.  I would have loved to have these things that I had so readily given over to you.   Now I am in it for the mission, the cause, the right reasons.

So here's to you!!

You're brilliant and talented full of charisma and inspiration.  You were my hero but you killed that by continually being such a flaming bitch.  To be completely melodramatic you're some weird hybrid of Jesus and Judas both...I'm thankful even for that. 

You've shown me that heroes are painfully human.
You've shown me that I can be one too. 
You've shown me that I can and should be my own.

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: (Default)
I’ve decided to withdraw from this battle.
I lay down my shield and sword and I shake off all this armor.
And even though I’m no longer kicking and screaming I’m not as serene as I appear to be. I still feel you moving around in my body, stirring my blood, fevering my brain but it gets better. Since I’ve acknowledged it everyday gets easier. You’re more of a ghost than tangible touch now.

It surprises me that its harder getting over the dream than it was to get over the reality. And now that I have finally begun the process of letting go, since I stopped medicating myself with a hyper active social life and schedule I’m oh so sensitive to everything.
I feel pain, longing, loneliness, anger and grief.

I’m finally in mourning…
I was so arrogant that I believed that allowing myself to feel these things was a sign of weakness.

After all I was the one who left you right?

Who was I to miss you, miss us, miss what could have been or be angry at “what should have been”. But I can be this way. I can be pissed off at losing my best friend. I can mourn the death of this relationship. I can miss the way our bodies moved together and the way we had with words. I can grieve… it is well within my rights to grieve.

I spent 16 months running from this feeling that is washing over me right now because I was terrified of drowning in it. And guess what? Even though I am in over my head with it I can still breathe. And that is kinda pissing me off too. Knowing that I can in fact breath without you… I should have tried to far sooner.

Ten years ago I laughed when I asked you ”What did I think about before I thought of you?”

Now I remember. And I am upset about that too. I am enraged at how I allowed myself to be so dedicated and consumed by us that I let me wither away. That I allowed the value of my word to tarnish that I let my ambition lay furrow in a vast field of opportunity.

I’ve decided to withdraw from this battle of looking for that person to be “us” with.
I have decided to lay down my shield and sword and shake off all this armor so that I can relearn to breathe just for me.
I have decided to remember my own thoughts.
I have decided to reclaim my word and properly nourish my ambitions.
I have decided to let go of this hope for you and me
I have decided to surrender the dream of somesort of “us”
So that I can live the victorious reality

Of me.
missrenie: (Default)

You were Pan and all of his Lost Boy.
You believed you could fly and I longed for you to.

You were Nibs
debonair and charismatic wanting to provide even though you were incapable of it
You were Slightly
living in lies you believed to be true, creating songs that only you could hear while begging me to dance with you
You were Curly
my troublesome and forgetful boy but always so so endearing
You were my Twins
knowing nothing about yourself but professing everything

You were also my Tootles.
Who mistook me for something else.
Who shot me down and almost killed me when I tried to fly

You were my Peter Pan, unable to love me the way an adult should.
I was your Wendy, constantly reattaching your shadow.
You exhausted me, wore me out, broke me down while trying to rescue me from a Captian Hook that you created.
The Dreams of Neverland turned to the Dark of Nightmares

When I left you followed me
And at first I loved it

You coming through my window bringing with you all the dreams of a unknowingly selfish heartless innocence. Sprinkling fairy dust over my head and saying that we would fly. But my feet no longer want to leave the ground with you. Every time I leapt off of the edge I realized that that dust was just the remnants of shattered dreams and that the only thing that keep me suspended in the air was the noose you tied around my neck. That and these wings I've constructed on my own.

You were taping at my window last night


But I would not let you in.
Wendy doesn’t live here any more
I do

It's the worst thing I’ve done to you
And it's the best thing I’ve done for myself

Betraying you by growing up

missrenie: (Default)

Dre dropped the book infront of me while I sat twisting my unkempt locs back into some sort of reasonable neatness.  It’s been a long time since I have inquired as to just why she gives me something to read/do.  Everything she seems to point out to me has been relevant.  It is as if the universe sends me messages that I too busy fucking around to notice and she has the lovely inclination to grab my head and twist my neck so that I stop and take a look see. 

I was quite resistant the first few times.  But after a while I realized that this process is a lot less painful if I just accept it. 

This time  it is a book on birthdays and astrology.  I open it up to age 27 & 28 and I am blown away, caught up in a feeling a overwhelming relief and warmed by a deep sense of connection to the vast universe around me.

This wild trip through the rabbit hole, this turmoil between healer and hedonist, this casting off of my old self and creation of the new, this painful passing, isolation, insomnia, this fit of exhibitionism, excitement, acceptance, all the serendipity of the last few months, all this death and rebirth, every glorious bit of greatness and gore that has been astronomical is merely astrological.

Saturn Returns… with a fucking vengeance I might add and with it comes cleansing, purification, manifestation, actualization, maturity, responsibility and the confidence to live the life appropriate for me on my terms and no one else’s. 
It has meant the ending of old relationships,
180 to 359 high speed shifts in perception
So far it’s been humiliating and humbling,
exotic and empowering
and if I am correctly informed a completely normal part of the growing process.

As chaos of my 27th year winds up to the adventure of the 28th I am ever so excited to see what Life has in store because for a while there Life was giving it to me hard…
full on  bent over the barrel without the lube hard.  I’ve recently bitch slapped her, flipped the script and taken top and now...

now we are in madly, absolutely, positively in love
and pregnant with beautiful expectant possibility~~
missrenie: (Default)

One of the great things that I have learned is that I can choose how I feel. I can choose to continue to feel angry and cheapened or I can choose to learn, laugh and move on.

Last night when I got home from work I chose the latter.  While surfin the internets for funny clips and distractions I came across some Futurama and it was just what I needed to see. There is this character on Futurama called Zapp Brannigan who is a complete pain in the ass to our main girl Leela after a one time roll in the hay. He is described in the following wikipedia excerpt as:


arrogant, incompetent, chauvinistic, cocky, vain, and painfully stupid… Brannigan envisions himself a "ladies' man", but is clueless in matters of romance. He remains convinced that Leela lusts after him and will eventually return to him, despite her (often literally) violent opposition to the idea.

The creators describe him as being "40% Kirk, 60% Shatner"

I’m not mad at him anymore and I am not mad at me anymore just merely annoyed that I actually have my own personal Captain No Pants
lol & fucking sigh~
missrenie: (Default)
Stop hatin on me
it's really starting to piss me off

yeah its hard to lose weight
yeah its hard to pay bills
yeah its hard to be alone

its been eaiser for me to lose weight cause... well I fucking exercise and I eat most my meals raw and green.  
its been easier for me to pay bills cause... well I work two fucking jobs
its been easier for me to be alone because instead of sitting in my house I find shit to do. 

No i'm not starving myself
No i'm not working myself to death
No i'm not whoring myself out

I eat healthier
I enjoy my jobs
I think people like me cause unlike you I don't bitch

When they tell me good news I am happy for them
I don't say
-I found the fat you lost... its on my ass
-I'd be rich too if I were killing myself
-guys like you cause you obviously can't keep your legs closed and well everyone likes fat black women...

Honestly the more I think about the shit you say to me the more I think this friendship isn't gonna work.
Can't you just be happy that i'm happy and getting healthy?
I'm trying to lift you up with me but you're too busy trying to drag me down

I say good morning
you say fuck mornings

I say good luck
you say my luck is fuck awful

I say you can do it
you say I don't understand

I say you can do it cause I am doing it.
I didn't get this life handed to me
I work my ass off for it
and I am about to tell you to kiss it.
cause you're so toxic

so damn toxic
that you're making me sick

and I can't afford to get sick
not now
not for anyone
not anymore

I want to be your friend
I want to support you
I want to be there for you
but  I can't if you won't do something
and damn...... pleeeeeeeeeease
quit yer  bitchin
missrenie: (Default)


You think you can do these things, but you just can't, Irene!!



So Thursday night I had a date.  Which I canceled because I was super emotional and hyper horny and if I went out on said date I would just end up crying on his shoulder or fucking him and that is no way to begin a relationship with someone that I don't even really like in the first place.


So Q being the darling that he is had the perfect solution which involved a trip to San Francisco, a bar on Castro apply named The Bar, and the meeting of a man named Louis.


First off driving into the city at night is a glorious thing, if you're not driving.  The nite brite lights, the mosh of music, the open individuality of the people, the steep ass hills that either make you feel like you're on a rollercoaster and/or give you vertigo...  I've been there several times before but for some reason last night felt like the first time.  There was all this excitement.  I felt like a virgin on prom night. My exact words as I peered out of the window were "Omg I feel like a huge clitoris"


We parked two blocks away from our destination and made our way down hill to The Bar.  Q advised me to watch my step but I was so intrigued by the vinyl padded walls that I didn't… I stumbled through the entrance, into the padded wall and fell immediately in love.


Three drinks later I was all sorts of sheets to the wind and involved in deep conversation with Louis who I love now too.


"You have to be who you are.  You have to own who you are." He said as he held both my hands.  "You're in a stage right now and you are figuring yourself out and that is beautiful, you are beautiful.  I see you.  I can see you right now.  What I see is wonderful."


And then he told me things.  All the dark things, all the sad things, all the happy things, all the wonderful things, and he spoke with confidence because he wasn't speaking to me as much as the Universe was speaking to me through him.

We understood that

We understood each other.

We had synchronicity

We had vodka


"You're perfect and I'm validating you," he said as he looked into my eyes "so you can now validate yourself and someone else.  You no longer need anyone else to validate you, because you're perfect and God loves you and I love you and you love you.  We're family now you and me.  You have my card now and if you don't call me or contact me the next time I see you and I will see you again, I will call you all sorts of bitches"




Despite the fact that

-I am limping a bit from dancing on my turned ankle

-will probably not be able to drink cranberry or pineapple juice for a month

-typing the word vodka is masochistic in nature

-And my stomach feels like it's full of lead…even though I know its empty for obvious reasons that I won't go into.


I feel wonderful, whole, free, complete and perfect.


Because I got what I needed what I was searching for not just in the past few months but the past few years.  During the course of the night between dancing, drinking and discourse Louis gave me a book mark and what was written on it changed my life just as much as massage school did, just as much as playing the Moaner did.


Thank you Q and K for taking me out last night.  And driving me home since I was a drunk, snoring mess by the end of it.

And thank you Louis for taking the time to connect with me, to share with me, to see me...you are a wonderful, divine and perfect person. All my love to you.





Nothing from without can touch the


Perfect Life of The Divine within me


No past experience has power over me




I am a perfect child of The Divine




And nothing that anyone has ever done or said


can interfere with my divine inheritance. 


The power of The Divine is greater than any circumstance in my life.


The strength of The Divine is mine to use.




Turning away from all feelings of inadequacy,


I discover that all that I need is within me right now.




As I forgive the past, I find that I have


nothing to atone for,


nothing to run away from. 




Casting off the old me,


I discover my true Self




I take dominion in my life,


Old habits have no power over me


Conditions have no power over me


Personalities have no power over me


I take dominion!


I am whole.


I am free.


I am complete.


Now and forever more


And so it is.


~Adapted from Your Needs Met, by Jack Addington

missrenie: (Default)

I must be feeling better
I have to be.
I know this because I want to strangle my inner child.

As I lay in bed this morning watching the sunlight ooze through my venetian blinds the little bitch started in on me.
Weapon of choice: Show Tunes. 
I hate it when she sings show tunes.

By time I roll off the futon she is halfway through The Sun'll come out Tomorrow.

Much to my dismay I found myself skipping around the house humming Heart don't fail me now, courage don't dissert me from Anastasia
The drive to work was accompanied by Mulan’s To Be a Man… changed to To Be a Single Woomannnnn
And as I made coffee I was fucking Sleeping Beauty singing a disturbing & raunchy rendition of Someday my prince/princess will come

It's not even nine o'clock yet and my inner child has joined forces with my inner teenager.  We’re into pop now… Destiny’s Child Survivor.  Even the inner doom-cookie- goth-light- wannabe  is starting to chime in with Within Temptation’s Stand my Ground.

 It’s a god damn, girl scout, gurl pop, pussy power campfire in my head and the inner victim has not been invited… actually she can’t even be found.

 I looked for her since she’s really good at shutting the other voices down.  She usually unleashes a flood of tears in biblical proportions that drowns everyone but the little heifer is mysteriously mia.

 This works out just fine for the inner hedonist whose wailing I Don’t Give a Damn About My Reputation/ One girl Revolution(Battle Mix)/ Fuck Yeah while swinging the inner child by her pigtails 


(le sigh)

It’s going to be a long day

But at least it will be a good one

~~thanks Kwame :)


missrenie: (Default)

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