a confession

I lust
after my hair stylist

in fact
I have done so
for 11 years

(no subject)

just checked my voicemail for the first time in a week
last night my ex called me she sounded strange
like she was making great effort to sound casual and failing

she inquired how I was and asked me to give her a call sometime so we could chat

cant say the idea appeals much to me

herein lies the problem

I have a strong belief about treating people with basic human dignity
regardless of any past between us while I fail frequently to uphold
this standard it is something I strive for.

I strive not to play games with people to let them always know
exactly where they stand with me this must be balanced
with the understanding that one should not be unnecessarily cruel

if you call me, no matter how much I despise you I will call you back
at the very least to hear what you have to say and say no, please don't call me again

If I say I will call you ...I will period.

and lastly an oath I made once
a long time ago not to her specifically
but in general to any woman
who manages to put up with me

any of my ex's who finds themselves in trouble
which they can not deal can call me and I will ensure
the safe resolution to the best of my ability

of course with the exception of one woman before her
this was never an issue as I am on friendly terms with all of my ex's

something didn't sound right in her voice, call me selfish
but I would rather not know what

anyone care to share some wisdom with me?

simple joys

laying on the floor
in front of the fire
with my two cats

clipping my fingernails
they were way overdue
and even though
I am not talented with
fingernail clippers
it does feel very nice
to have them
trimmed

it takes one

sweet kiss from her tender lips
on touch from her fingers tips

it takes more than one thing
to mend a broken heart

so go ahead and cry

Now in Vienna there's ten pretty women

There's a shoulder where Death comes to cry
There's a lobby with nine hundred windows
There's a tree where the doves go to die
There's a piece that was torn from the morning
And it hangs in the Gallery of Frost
Take this waltz
This waltz with the clamp on its jaws

Oh I want you,
I want you,
I want you
On a chair with a dead magazine
In the cave at the tip of the lily
In some hallways where love's never been
On a bed where the moon has been sweating
In a cry filled with footsteps and sand
Take this waltz
Take its broken waist in your hand

This waltz,
With its very own breath of brandy and Death
Dragging its tail in the sea

There's a concert hall in Vienna
Where your mouth had a thousand reviews
There's a bar where the boys have stopped talking
They've been sentenced to death by the blues
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
With a garland of freshly cut tears?
Take this waltz it's been dying for years

There's an attic where children are playing
Where I've got to lie down with you soon
In a dream of Hungarian lanterns
In the mist of some sweet afternoon
And I'll see what you've chained to your sorrow
All your sheep and your lilies of snow
Take this waltz,
With its "I'll never forget you, you know!"

And I'll dance with you in Vienna
I'll be wearing a river's disguise
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder,
My mouth on the dew of your thighs
And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
With the photographs there, and the moss
And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty
My cheap violin and my cross
And you'll carry me down on your dancing
To the pools that you lift on your wrist
Oh my love, Oh my love
Take this waltz,
It's yours now. It's all that there is

-Leonard Cohen (from Lorca's little Viennese waltz)