The Story

So these are my parents. Mom's looking rather close eyed but in all of the pictures from when they were younger in general... dad always looked like he adored her. I'm pretty sure dad's life dream when he was younger was not to be a truck driver. According to him though he would probably tell you a life of running with the mafia didn't really sit all too well with him either... only because he loved my mother and her three daughters a bit too much. With my father you kind of have to fill in the blanks... theres all these crazy stories but you're not quite sure how it all came together but there is one story that I love the most. How mom and dad got together. I wish I could upload the picture my dad gave my mom in the beginning, when technically they were both married to other people and extremely religious. (Looking at my dad today this kind of makes me laugh... as if any religion would calm his inhibitions). The picture is just of my dad and he looks super Italian... hes got the nose, much pointer then than it looks today and hes wearing sunglasses and his stance ...its so classic. On the back written in pen it says...in faded ink...."love johnny"

its such a classic story too. He was bet a pack of lucky strikes that he couldn't get my mother into bed. She was a waitress at a diner and he was a regular. I'm pretty sure if my mother is anything like me... she was a sucker for him and the rest is history. The thing is... about them.. and I could easily see this going another way ... they were both pretty intense people. If the relationship dragged on and one of them caught a glimpse from someone else I'm not sure what they would have done. I am also not sure because even in my dad's worst moments when he was arguing with my mother he never took the light out of his eyes. Only once did I see it happen and we ended up parked in front of mather hospital all night me and my mom in his old green monte carlo... so he could "cool off."

mostly though he did absolutely anything for her. Save one thing... he drank a lot. Still does. oy....

anyway I have been thinking a lot about them. Wishing I could get my head on straight. Have something just wake me up and shake me down and be like... this is it.

this is where you need to go... what you need to do.

Has anything ever looked so good you thought...well its a trap.
You get into it it looks divine.. flowery almost...
like a freaking story book ending
and then you later realize
the coating was only so sweet
the people aren't real
the love is just the batter once baked it may taste bitter

and there are some things... only small things that seem non-negotiable. However you say to yourself... well I kind of would like to just feel pretty pure for a change anyway.

theres so much more to the scenery than the trees and the sound and the crash of it almost all flying right by.

so...

but I have this problem
I want to bottle it
and save it
until I get this feeling out of my system

that I am string and unwanted
somehow tampering with kindness
somehow
bold and unsturdy
and really oddly
just an object


an idea

and I am always
just an idea

I want to feel

real

......
you all know I am speaking metaphorically just for me?
well I know some of you derive your own meaning from it and its great....
but I may just continue on this way....
....................

sometimes I feel like a vending machine
like in that ani difranco song
origami
..................................

I have restarted twice
twice
I have rebooted myself
thought from the beginning
mapped it out
but obviously I should have thought more clearly way back when

and now I am so careful
so careful
that it may hurt
more than it did before

so careful because
I can not take this any more.


underneath all my smiles and jokes I am a serious person
with serious goals
they may be outdated
like from 1952
but
for such a serious person
I should have thought all of this through

I need to eat something.

I have no butter for my bread
and no one to butter it.

I'll have to put jam on myself
but its not as sweet