I like when everything starts to explode.

Set Me As A Seal Upon Your Heart

Solomon sat on his bed without a feeling in his heart at all. Beside him was an atomic clock, a letter and crumpled pair of women's panties as at that moment, down his legs, there poured two parallel streams of blood--red and unceasing. He watched as it spurted and fell and puddled the floor. He watched until he couldn't and fell back to see the plain blankness of the hotel ceiling spinning slightly as he began to dream.

In and then out.

The ugly tapestry and the phony paintings. He hated gold trim and watercolors. He hated frames. There were those panties, which he held tightly in his right hand, saturating them with blood. "What is my name?" He asked himself, as he could know longer remember. People were smiling and calling out to him; some yelling at him, crying. Memories of friends and beer and fat pedestrians. The face of a woman he loved. Her body wrapped around his in the dark and him filling her. Feeling full because of her.

He shuddered. The phone rang.

But for Solomon there was no longer sound. He had exhaled and in that moment, was gone forever.

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Cooking debacle led to a break-up on my birthday and driving back to Kentucky to once again return to stripping. I'm not in a place to describe how I feel, and I'm going to do everything I can avoid thinking about it. To be to the point:

I do not believe in being in love.

I do not believe in anything at all.

I've been naive, you, all of you got that right. There is no monogamy. No happy endings. No soul mates. There's no happiness in sharing a life with someone.

I was wrong.

Thank you for proving me wrong. Thank you for breaking me in.

If you think you want to be in my life you are mistaken. Like everyone else, your personality would unravel and your life would just systematically fall apart one element after another right before your eyes.

I don't know how or why, but that's my fault and I mean that seriously.

So don't read my journals anymore. Don't look at my pictures.

Don't seek me out at all, not any of you who come here.

There's no longer anything worth seeing.

Finished Product

Ta-Da!

Not best presentation but at least the vegetables are recognizable. The fact that filet mignon is the type of meat meant to be served rare/medium-rare forced my boyfriend to google "is 100 degree filet mignon dangerous" and eventually made me paranoid enough to not want to eat it at all. There was lots of staring and forks pushing around unwanted pieces. Definitely not the effect I was going for.

I was hoping for more of a "this is a great meal, thank you for showing me you love me". But I'm still trying to teach myself not to expect appreciation for ways I try to make his life happier with little things. So much effort is just overlooked.

Just the same, I was proud of my own cooking! Next time I'll just broil the meat. :)

Dinner Attempt

Okay. The game plan for tonight's dinner is filet mignon with artichoke hearts, zucchini, green onion and garlic mashed potatoes.

I'm not exactly homemaker of the year so uh, cross your fingers for me. I'll post pics of the result to better boast/humiliate myself.

(Pic stolen from Men's Health Magazine)

Marxism

"Owners of capital will stimulate the working class to buy more and more of expensive goods, houses and technology, pushing them to take more and more expensive credits, until their debt becomes unbearable. The unpaid debt will lead to bankruptcy of banks, which will have to be nationalized, and the State will have to take the road which will eventually lead to communism" .

Karl Marx, Das Kapital, 1867