Rendevous

Would you want to rendevous?
The answer to your lusty prayers can come true.

nourshing is the woman with the hiked up skirt,
and hungry is the man who wishes to hurt.

For pain is pleasure; so they say.
One to many moans made him stay.

For the hunger was deep,
and the satisfaction was hard.

Food is not on the table,but they are.

A passionate kiss,
a firm grab to the waist.

Made everything rushed,
put the screwing was well paced.

It was not a normal session of loving,
which they had done in the past.

This was present and futurelythis defined "Chaste".

It was a hidden desire
willingly exposed on the kitchen counter.

This was a vulgar little secret;
the ceramic floor tiles would have to keep it.

So this is our little rendevous;
be at my place around 2.

Friend Finale

So far I've known a few people and some have come in and out of my life with incredible ease. Though some departures and endings of friendships have affected me in the past, I tend to learn the lesson and move on.

I've noticed that no matter the age and gender it happens- obviously.



The reasons behind the finale to some friendships can be so silly or so serious. But I think of a few types of ending that stick out in my mind. Tell me if you know what I'm talking about.



One ending can simply be social status. I've been part of the middle class my whole life and I've paid no mind. But I've managed to lose some friends because it was so clear they thought themselves to be better than me. Considering this was the case throughout all of elementary school (another story for another entry) I was hoping to avoid it in high school. But alas, not the case. She came from a decent wealthy Portuguese family who thought themselves to be incredibly important. This girl though had a particular fascination with the lower middle class Hispanic community. Which is why she befriended me I think. I got along with her, but at times her subliminal racial comments made me actually feel uncomfortable. I've always been proud of my race and my friends that I've grown up with have never been foolish enough to utter a single word about stereotypes for Latinos. This girl on the other hand, had an incredibly awkward conversation with her mother while i was in the car.



We were on our way to go watch "Meet the Robinsons" with her little sister. We were going to yorkdale on a Friday night which is the night where all the mall rats came out to play. They usually hung out around the movie theatre and met up with their clique. I was in the car with my friend the sis and the mom. And so, the conversation begins"



"Sascha, please do me a favor. If you are going there to watch a movie with your sister, please make sure to take care of her. And please don't bring her around any of that filth that hangs out around the mall."



"Mom, don't worry. All the Spanish people are at a party tonight. No ones there."



Once again people, may I remind you that I am in the car! So of course I have to say something because not only did i feel incredibly belittled and insulted, I felt the need to say something! Shit I'm Spanish!



"Um, I'm sorry but..I'm Spanish. What's that supposed to mean?" I wasn't apologizing for being Spanish, but I was willing to give them the benefit of that doubt that I misunderstood. They exchange glances quickly and begin to stumble- oops! I mean clarify and justify their racial slip of the tongue.



"Oh Sophie, she didn't mean just the Spanish people."

"Oh no of course not! I'm talking about all those people that hang out at that mall. The Spanish, the black people, the white people-"



Her little sister "The green people, the purple people." And they all laughed and went along with talking about something else.



I did not find what her little sister said cute in the least! I'm sorry but that was irony at its best. If you can't pick up how that's ironic, please realize that this innocent thing is a racist and she doesn't even know it.



Her daughter dated the trash and filth that she speaks of. An Ecuadorian, a Mexican and a Nicaraguan. Her hand has been elbow deep in Spanish "filth". She loved the thugs.

Now this wasn't the end of the friendship. But this is definitely a memory that I will never forget. It was like a foreshadowing event that told me, I wouldn't be friends with her for long.





Some people lose friends over boys, over social status and over miscommunication. People are too proud at times to admit they misunderstood and that they were wrong. Some people forget where they even come from.



I know of someone who is very dear to my heart, that had a friend tell her possibly the most selfish arrogant things ever. Someone who came from the hood, and I mean THE HOOD. She now works and does her thing. She has blamed "my dear someone" of losing the spark in her life due to her pregnancies. Please read that line over. Can you tell that she's a single working woman with no maternal instincts.



She doesn't fall into the demographic that "my dear someone" falls under. She is a single mom with two girls. She pays for her daughters food, clothes, dance classes and so much more. How dare this person even say a single word to her? She has changed. Everyone has. Friends always do. Sometimes they change so much, that you can't even call them friends.



Everyone has the experience of losing a friend. I have enough stories that I can base this blog on simply that. But I'd rather not.



Sophie 101: Understand that when a friendship ends, there is always room for another one. Though the time might be sad, it ended for a reason. Something went wrong. Accept and move on.

The Boris Monologue

So for a school assignment I had to write a monologue revolving around the theme "Life is Beautiful". We had to take some type of inspiration from our life and incorporate that into the monologue. So in other words experiences around you, and from another persons perspective. I chose one of the most impactful experiences that happened to me and all my friends that I grew up with. That was the death of our beloved friend, Boris Cikovic. I managed to write a short monologue from the perspective of all of us and combined it into one person. I changed boris's name to brian. But the monologue is as real as it gets. I hope whoever reads it understands that this really came from the heart. From mine, his parents, and the very heart of each of my friends. If I could have made it longer I would have because this is forever etched into my memory for as long as I live and breathe.

October 3rd of 2008, I lost you Brian. I didn’t know what to do man. I think a piece of all of us died with you that night. We were in our hood dude. We all grew up there, everyone knew us. You were so loved by the people that worked in the bakery and the ladies from the senior home. Maybe we shouldn’t have been drinking in the park, but it’s not like we’d never done it before. I swear bro, if I had seen those fuckers coming over that hill I woulda told you to book it. Fuck Brian, when I saw them pulling out that gun and saw you standing there, I froze.

I will never forget the way your eyes glazed over and the way you squeezed my hand. The blood soaking my shirt, the hole in your sweater, the ragged breathing. You died in my arms man. Even though its been a year and a half, when I actually think about you all I remember is your face.

We miss you bro. We posted up the videos from the memorial service on YouTube and I don’t know how many other people watch em. I gotta tell you though, those videos make me happy.
Even though we are all crying when we are giving our speeches, we knew each and every bit of you. You were so smart man! 80s and 90s in all your classes like some kinda genius. And yo, everyone from the hood was there. The girls went up and spoke about you, about how you always made them smile. Whether they were crying and you were there to cheer em up, or if it was just all of us just chilling.

But I think the one person who had the nicest thing to say about you was Mr.Miller, your gym teacher. He talked about how you woke up every morning and met him at the gym. You guys would work out and just joke around and talk. You filled him with joy every morning. You did a wonderful job man, a wonderful job of being a friend and just ...fuck...you were awesome. You did it all; you were an incredible son and you lived with no regrets. Honestly, you were such a blessing dude. You made all of us realize what we have to do; be here for each other and live life to the fullest. I can never know when it will be my last day. Love you to death bro, thanks for the lesson. See you later.

To Blog or not to Blog?

So I've been contemplating whether or not I should start actual blogging. Although I love poetry, it can only say so much. Sure similies and metaphors are easy to relate to- but not always.

Although i'm not completely abstract, I know very well I cannot say everything I want through stanzas and black and white pictures. And I wonder; would you be interested in what I have to say?

I guess this is an introduction to what could be the beginning of something wonderful.

Or

it is simply an experiment, to see if I can survive amongst the hungry wolf-like blog readers of the world today.

Through my short 19 years of life, I've almost experienced more than enough to say; I can speak with some knowledge of something. Whether it be the teenage romances and rollercoasters, the dysfunctional but united family, or even the friendships one loses and gains.

I could even talk about school and the pressures and victories on the battlefields of College (Of course including dramatic exaggerated details to make it more enjoyable.)

Or another brilliant idea.

I am a person who has seen alot and apply every experience to my life as a lesson. Although some people may learn it but never learn from it, I make sure to tell those people what the lessons I learn are. Perhaps it will give people the epiphany they need. So here comes my question to people who follow blogs or wish to start;

Will you all hear me out?

Sincerely,

Moi.

Speechless

The truth has crept into my skin,

causing me to cringe.

I sit here with my gaze,

reminiscing brighter days.

But as I realize the truth, my memories shatter.

For I now know that they do not matter.

You managed to make a fool out of me.

Took away the blindfold to let me see.

The woven web of deceit that you've made,

has been placed where you and I have laid.

I felt the world fly by me leaving me in the dark.

Each horrible truth leaves its perpetual marks.

Deeply installed into my twisted mind.

You had made me believe that you were kind.

But within each syllable and simile used,

I now know my heart has been abused.

This repulsive creature who once said it all to see,

now sits there, patronizing and mocking me.

He has taken the ability away for me to comprehend,

that this fairytale was truly a horror story in the end.

How can lessons of life teach something like this?

I can only sit here alone, shocked and speechless.

Light

And we laid there.
Still as ever, finally breathing steadily.
Sighing, and grinning.
Although it was dim, I knew what I was looking at.
As if chiseled by marble, perfection stared into my eyes.
Pieces of smooth skin placed perfectly on his body.
The faintest light hitting the ripples on his arms.

I buried my head into his chest, hearing his heart hum a tune.
I let my hand wander over his torso, as if making a new discovery.
I placed my lips softly on his collar bone, hoping he takes it as a blessing.

The light only shone on him, giving my sight the gift of witnessing his presence.
His rugged hands placed on my hips below the thin sheet, lightly brushing with his thumb.

His crevices defining his godliness and masculinity.
His smile almost distracting me from his flawless exterior.

He called me his fallen angel.
He was my halo, he was my light. He was my temple.

As The Leaves Change

As time passes,

the leaves begin to change.

And when they do,
I reluctantly remember the pain.

Within each color of rich gold and earthy browns,

I remember words exchanged between us, which were once profound.

As I travel through the deep oranges and the fiery reds,

I attempt to let the autumn breeze blow away your image from my head.

As if the breeze that comes along with the Fall,

has heard my weary thoughts sad call.

While the wind whips leaves into the cool air,

I began to feel nostalgic wishing you were here.

The fallen leaves are no longer dry,
for along with the grey heavens, I begin to cry.

No matter how much strength I try to gain,

Your beauty always weakens me.

As the leaves change.