Impulse Control… Poetry

So the Sippy Cup (re:¬†http://dimensionthe5th.com/2013/06/23/hes-awesome-wait-whats-wrong-with-him/¬†) is already getting poetry written about him. Again, this can’t be good, and I’m waiting for bad things to happen. The poetry that came out of it isn’t so bad though ūüėõ

“Impulse Control”

I should take it slow…
I know
As my body reacts differently
Heating at your touch
Melting at your voice
You tell me a song with your smile
And I’m already a puddle

Slow, slow
Even as I move to claim your lips
Your lust, your heart
Taking you inside of me in whatever way possible at this moment

Slowly, slowly
“Let’s not rush,” I whisper to myself
As I take in your scent
The vision of you
Becoming drunk off the fantasies
Pouring through my mind, my very spirit
All connected
My emotions want slow
As my body primes for Now
Impulse control shot to hell and back

It’s simple.
I want.
And I don’t want to wait.

Be the strength of us both, I beg
To slow things down
Slowly, slowly move towards
A heightened feeling of more
Before I take over
And plunge us both
Into an exploding moment of ecstasy

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That’s Just My Day Face? Ramblings of Military and Civilian Life

My first time trying this:  Rarasaur and Prompts for the Promptless РSeason 2 Episode 1:  The Alter Ego

I’ve worn a uniform so many years that it feels abnormal not to wear boots or a cap on my head. Of course, the longest I’ve gone without the uniform is probably about 30 days of vacation in a year.

So it makes it hard to understand civilian life, to make friends outside the military. To not bring the military in every aspect of my life.

The military has its own language, that not even most movies can duplicate. There’s certain responses to situations we are conditioned to make. Or well, we WERE. The guys that I see coming out of basic training are softer than a wet roll of toilet paper. No offense, though it does offend me.

Not like I’m the toughest chick outside of my uniform. I run and scream at the carpenter bees, super mosquitoes and stink bugs that think my patio is their nighttime club and bar. But there is a mask that I can pull on, the military mask. When in uniform and told to stay still, I’ll let bees crawl all over me while I stay the frack still!

But back to making friends outside of the military, to being a separate person. I swear I don’t know how you guys do it! I mean, if you move to a new place as often as I do, how do you connect with others? What do you talk about? Do you just use your holdover friends from high school and college? Make nice with the neighbors?

Is this how I do it? Stalk people to make friends? Hmmmm.

And, how do you be a regular human being nowadays? My time in the military has been a part of my identity for so long, that I don’t know how to separate from it. It’s gone from being a face that I put on, to something I can’t take off even after the day is done and the uniform comes off.

So along with online dating, I’ve added online friend making with Meet-Up.com. Dear Baby Jesus, in order to be a normal person, I’ve trapped myself in the interwebs!

Sometimes you just got to put those emotions to song…

Or in my case poetry. I have a short little poem about a crush. I cannot write this on my actual FB page because my paranoid personality is sure said crush will somehow read my mind, know it’s about them, and then things would be weird.

I swear I’m not shy, and pretty forward when I’m interested in someone, but my confidence in myself has been totally blown lately. I’m sucking at this whole online dating thing. I mean sucking big honkin¬†blue balls. It seems what I like looks wise doesn’t like me, and what likes me look wise I have no interest in. We could argue over looks not being everything, but I do try to¬†evaluate everyone by just the basics. You know, would I be okay walking down the street with a dude that has a huge unibrow¬†and teeth that looked like they were in an MMA fight all on their own? No.

I’m superficial. Sue me. So are you. You just don’t want to admit it. You don’t want a unibrow man with teeth that could give you a hysterectomy either.

Anyway… So, while the interwebs¬†dating thing is at an almost standstill, I crush on random guys that I shouldn’t. You know, the kind that probably have a whole closet full of issues bursting at the seams, but looks make me say “Me gusta”.

So here, I give my scribbles to the random internets!:

“Lucid Dreaming”

By dimensionthe5th

I can’t have what I want…
Or yet, no confidence in even planning the chase for your lips, your heart

And so, clandestine affairs reverberate throughout my night-time musings

Not dreams, as I control the level of love and lust lucidness that permeates the atmosphere of my mind

Not true to real life, I think, though I’ve never been in such a situation with you

So I just imagine
Arms wrapped around and warmth seeping like a kiss against the goose-pimpled skin of my body

I’m giving myself away, or is it not obvious that I burn like a small sun in your presence?

I must keep the secret, so I’m not hurt by your disinterest.

So I let a rain of lies my mind has made up wash over me, so that you don’t shine so bright in my emotional senses.

And the pretense is that I’m just a no one, a figment on the wind.

Don’t trouble yourself,

And leave me to my imaginings.

March 2013

Pet Peeve #52.757 – New Adult Readers Reading Bad Things

I love reading. I love books. Although I have an e-reader now, there’s still nothing like the smell of books. Yes, I smell books. I started reading at 4, had moved to chapter books by five. By 10 I was reading Stephen King, and then stories on the high school list like Elie Weisel’s Night, and Things Fall Apart, all of Isaac Asimov and Shakespeare for the heck of it. A speed reader, I would finish a book of around 3-400 pages in a day if I could sneak in the time. Even when I went through basic training and wasn’t allowed to have any books, I had a small notebook that could fit in the pocket of my uniform that I filled with poetry so I could read over and over again.

That being said, although my reading isn’t always high-end (I’ll read sci-fi/fantasy fiction more than anything else, although I love reading nonfiction about different religions), I do know what well written books are. I do know that it takes a certain skill level. And that even a famous writer isn’t THE BEST writer out there. I mean, my favorite two authors of all time are Stephen King and Anne Rice, and they can go for a chapter about a crack in the wall O_o.

My pet peeve though is those adults that haven’t picked up a book since they graduated from high school or college, and then it was only required reading. And then, this NEW HOT BOOK comes out, and they read it, and want to come talk to me. Argh. Grrr. Ugh. Dear Baby Jesus, it’s not even a GOOD BOOK. It’s reads like the author only had a 5th grade level, does not understand what plot is, and can’t construct a complete sentence. Granted, I’m not the best writer, but I’m a lover of good writing skill. And I’m opinionated. And I’m vocal about my opinion.

Like this: I’m at the car dealership getting my car checked, out smoking a cigarette and reading my e-reader (because that’s what I do: feed my brain while I destroy my health) and this older woman walks up. “Hi, you love reading huh? Me too.” Yay another reader! “You know what I ordered on my Kindle and can’t put down?” Please let it be something good. Not that 50 shades of sh– “That 50 Shades of Grey series!”

Pause.

And then my rant spilled forth without me being able to control it. “You know, I’m so tired of hearing about that horrid series. Who the frack¬†would pay for such bad writing? Why would you read such bad and unrealistic erotica when there’s so much better with an actual plot in it. The author writes like she didn’t pass high school, and even her take on BDSM makes it sound like you’re not into that kind of thing unless something is wrong with you. Her characters are Mary Sue characters…”

The question comes of have I read it. “No, a couple of chapters, detailed synopsis. Did you know this was basically fanfiction¬†that she just changed the names? You’re paying money for fanfiction!”

By the way, I love fanfiction. I just think an author should actually EDIT if they’re going to take a story that they wrote for their vision of someone else’s characters and then publish it. And that’s only my most recent pet peeve about new adult readers. The one before that was of course the “Insert Yourself because the whole main character is a blob just waiting for you” Twilight books. And dear Lord, the Da Vinci Code. That was mostly guys: “I read a book. It was great. I am now intellectual.” Go sit in a corner and shut up dude. That author made me fall asleep 3 times trying to read the first chapter before I gave up.

And I understand everyone has their likes and dislikes. Have at it. But if you’ve only read one frackin¬†book or series, do NOT talk to me about favorite authors, about writing styles, skills, and think that you can bond with me. It’s like a person coming up saying they’re a rap fan because they heard a Black Eyed Peas song. Are you serious?!?!?! It’s like saying you like to cook but all you know is Hamburger helper.¬†Delicious¬†at times, but not really high-end cuisine. In fact, I think I’m cooking Hamburger helper for dinner. Who says I’m too uppity and opinionated?

Rant over.