Blow out!

Blow out love instead of blowing out anger, passive aggression or fear. Don't let your anxiety or insecurity get in the way of giving your love to the world. We are all meant to be happy not detract from each other's happiness.

Everyone needs a friend and if you're having a hard time then all you have to do is open up & tell someone. Acting too cool for school & hella tough to cover your true feels or evading friends & family completely will get you into more problems than what you started with. You ain't gotta be perfect to get love or support from the people in your life. You just have to show up and be open to receive it.

How you push people away is all you. No one else's fault. I personally have been known to push people away when I don't want to deal with things... Feels, situations, pressures, etc. So the best advice I can share that works for me: Take a compassionate hard look at how you're handling the pressures you've placed on yourself and how you're dealing with feeling afraid and then the people trying to help you.

Like I've said a bunch of times before, I don't always have the Buddhist answers for myself until I've experienced something or a situation and I'm ok with that. So it's ok if you don't have the answer to everything. But you have to be willing to give it a try to figure it out. Be completely open and honest with what you feel and have to offer others. Once you put your best foot forward, you'll see that others do the same. Figure out what comes next as you are able to. You have to let life and love in to be able to blow it out in all ways and aspects of your life. 

Here's an old piece that has nothing to do with hair and everything to do with blowing out love. 

Enjoy!

Kisses, 

m.

Blow

(3-23-2010)

Blow. Smooth lips pursed together. Red. Delicate. Tiny opening pushing out air. Cheeks strain with the slightest sense of pressure. Air escapes. The chaos amid the noisy cherry velvet room has no relevance. Stuck in this moment. Lighting lifts and dims without notice. Watching. Smiling mouth. Demure. Hand rises up to mouth once more. There it is. Blow. Lips press together in a soft unreturned kiss. Lowering hand thrusts the puff across the room at me. Landing directly upon my face. Smile. Happiness in my heart. The pulse pounding noise surrounding can not break this connection. Thick humidity deepens with the intensity of the crowd. Bodies pass inbetween. No matter. Eyes never leave. Lips stay full. Giggles escape from the soft red. My eyes are smiling with anticipation. Air drawn in again. Blow. An small ‘o’ forms with the gesture. Both hands reach upwards to hide the impending message. Silent. Discreet. Jumping outward and full of excitement. Sending the invisible soldier off into the open expanse. Ready. Aim. Target Acquired. Smile. Turn away. People interrupt. Embracing. Lips locking. Interruption to the beat of the drum. Up. Down. Wet. Tongues. Eyes open. Eyes closed. Neither is thinking the same thing. Disconnected. Break. Parting in different directions. Focus. Across the folding sea. Blow. Lips force an opening. Pushing out an intruding army of wind ready to make battle with any obstacles. Hand reaches up and outward to guide the path. Eyes follow the concealed missile toward its target. Distractions intercede. Path is blocked. Nothing but movement before my eyes. Heated pulsating flesh shoves and hits against my skin. Face buried in the warmth. Hidden. Losing the battle to the electricity of the mass. Hands grabbing and pulling. Sinking. Unknown faces. Smiling eyes. Blow. Air against my cheek. Familiar. Red. Revealed. Soft. Kiss.

Photo Credit: Tyler Shields 

Clean

"Clean... The cleanest I've been" - Depeche Mode

There's nothing wrong with a little dirty if you get clean afterwards. Clean slates are good things to begin with... But you can always wash it clean.  

Here's something new... From the Hair series. 

Enjoy! 

Kisses, m.

Clean

I'm wounded. 

Body exhausted.

Tired.

Achy. 

Dirty.

The day nearly stole my soul

And he demands attention. 

Eagerly waiting for me

He holds his gaze.

Too weak to refuse him

I submit.

Gently he disrobes me 

And with a nod I'm his.

Bare to his eyes. 

Open to his touch. 

Softly he massages my neck & back.

He insists upon my fulfillment. 

My body is tight.

Emotions closed off.

I'm needing release.

And he knows this. 

Tired of my excuses 

He persists.

Taking control.

The way he knows I like.

Moments of his hands press my body forward until I open up to him.

My sun kissed brown hair falls when he unravels it. 

Although unhappy with the abrupt change of color he says nothing while continuing to assert his will.

My hair falls and catches the air currents from the fan and begins bouncing like the wind has a hold.  

Gently he caresses my neck, my arms & breasts before kissing the top of my forehead. 

With a slight indication he lifts and carries me to the bathroom. Setting me down he motions to the bath. 

Quietly I draw the bathwater and wait. 

There's only still between us.

Silently he removes his clothing and reveals himself. 

His eyes look me up and down. 

Lips open with a smirk. 

Letting his fingers run across my skin he teases. 

With a quick gentleness he runs his hands up my spine, through my hair & moves my head to meet his. 

His breathing is calm and deep as he leans closer with his mouth.

With a gentle kiss, he encourages me to move toward the warm water with him.

Completely lost to my own will I hesitate.

His strong slender frame moves without mine.

In an instant he's at rest in the tub.

The gentleness of his arms insist me to join him while his eyes never break their stare.

As I follow his lead I'm lost in thoughts of the day trying to break my mind free.

Moving by his volition I untie myself from the memories that haunt.

It's only when he pulls me down to him and holds me in his arms that the day falls away. 

These feelings have never subsided.

I'm reminded how lost I am when I'm away from his arms. 

Dirty and consumed by the madness of the world. 

Found by his touch...

I'm clean.

Photo Credit: Tyler Shields

Beauty simply is...

Beauty simply is. No matter what your exterior looks like, you are always enough dolls. There's no need ever to compete for a man or woman's attention. Especially no need to copy, trash talk or feign friendship with other dolls or Kens to get it. If a person implies you do need to change your appearance or treat others badly to win their love, then his or her attention & love isn't worth it. 

Love yourself to know that the only change needed is as simple as taking a bath. The right person that thinks you're the most won't want to change a cosmetic thing about you. They'll want to grow old & wrinkly with you. Change for yourself. Not for a lover. You are special exactly as you are.  

Here's an old one about taking & meditating in a bath! 

Do you love baths? This doll does!

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Breathe

(1-5-2011)

Slinking into the white porcelain basin beneath the velvet blanket of wetness my skin slides until the top of my breasts are visible. From outer reaches beyond the white-wash of the bathroom door there’s the loud sounds of a television. It’s irrelevant what the sounds are in reference to as I count.

In. Out. One by one they escape my nose and mouth like bastard children sprang from passionate moments. One preceding one after another. Each sounds like an inverted rush of wind. Pushing in. Rushing out. There’s no battle but the force can be felt within.

The top of my feet are exposed enough for my toenails to be seen. My eyes pick apart visible red upon pink cracked paint hiding bare simplicity as I reach 35. I think I counted 25 the minute before last after the soapy wetness begins to evaporate into anything but still water.

Up. Down. My chest lifts. Rises to the rhythm of air. A moment longer and I’m counting to 40. Chest tightens quickly. And I’m thinking that somewhere I read that this is not normal before I sink further into the tub to listen.

Head remains partially submerged to the ears.

The distant vibration of the television’s din remains until all sound becomes quiet.

The same warmth of wetness surrounds my bare skin. My eyes look around in the same wonder and feel instead of listen. The cool air upon the red and pink brilliance awakens my skin into electricity. The gooseflesh runs up both legs wrapped inside the velvet blanket.

Beneath the blanket there’s no more numbers. No thoughts of measure. Nameless without their count. Air held tightly in cavities inside. My mind pregnant with thought. Thinking that there are dozens of them waiting to become once again. Released.

Trapped within. A feeling that seems ancestral grows. Without rise or fall it becomes.

In the vacuum of nothing. The feeling slowly becomes noise that is recognized. Familiar like an old memory. The sound of my heart fills the silence. Pounding. A moving rhythm in my ears. The beating of life continues without the movement of breathing. Listening to every beat without count. Needless to be counted. Known to themselves without identity.  Slowly the feeling in my chest lessens as the pulsation of blood begins to slow.

Deep within the white basin lies a feeling more than sound becomes audible without measure.

Photo credit: Tyler Shields

Rise Up

Life's currents are choppy at times and difficult to navigate when you're surrounded by people that each want something from you. Realize one thing though... You are the only thing weighing you down. In order to rise to meet the challenges life brings and overcome all things, you must take responsibility for yourself instead of blaming external factors. Once you do this life is easy. You are the reason and have always been the reason things don't work out... no one and nothing else. Discipline sounds like a bad thing but it's not always. Discipline transforms difficult circumstances. 

Are you ready to focus and rise? This doll has been rising up for the last few months and is amazed at how great life is. 

Here's a story about a man finding himself being the only person to blame in difficult circumstances...

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Dry

When the water dries out I’ll know where I stand or hang. I know this as I move my hands carefully beneath their rope tied shackles. Carefully I lift my head backwards and hope that the rope around my neck will pull back with the ebb of water. Letting it happen is a matter of relaxing in the right position.

A thousand times over I’ve felt the cold water lap up neatly against the bottom of my chin with a false hope. The force of my own weight shoves back towards me as the water rises and rescinds. There’s a reason or two that have found me in an interesting predicament now and again but nothing could’ve prepared me for this. Both my arms bound above my head hanging beneath the dock of the bay with a noose around my neck. Tighter and looser the ropes dig in before releasing with the ebb of tide. One thing is for sure is that once the tide rolls out dry I’ll be sunk and left hanging by the neck unless I can relax.

“Miles Redfield there ought to be a law for the kind of man you are.” So says Zanrha Grey the only woman who ever walked out of my life more than twice and still knew me better than any other when she came back around.

If there’s one thing I know from spending my time with Zan was how much she liked to lay down laws.

And I did enjoy when she did cause I loved to break them.

Except this time around it wasn’t so much the law she laid down as it was her foot that said “No more.”

No more was what I should have said when I welcomed trouble back into my life instead of walking away. That Thursday morning out on the avenue by the docks hanging back with Charlie Black and Melly Abriga I knew there was nothing like trouble but I went along for the ride. I wanted to be in, so I was.

 There weren’t any cops around when we boosted the old dodge, certainly no one looking when Charlie pried open the driver’s side door and Melly took a knife to the trunk. What threw me by surprise was the body that jumped up out of the trunk and grabbed a hold of my throat. There wasn’t time enough to react. Melly dropped his knife and jumped into the freshly running car that Charlie threw into gear leaving me with 6ft 2inches of terror with his hands wrapped around me and a look of pure hate in his eye. It can’t be happening. But it was. And so was I.

He wasn’t an angry man the fellow that handed me back my neck. His fate was sealed inside that car and I’m the one to blame for letting him out. Yet instead of setting me free, he gave me a choice on how to be dead. And it wasn’t what I might have chosen, but no one knows what trouble will hand you when you aren't clear about what you want. So with an agreement and a nod…

Smoothly I let this happen to me. I chose the noose around my neck. I wanted to have a betting chance and agreed this was a better way to end up than with a bullet through and through my skull. See most people want to know what’s coming for 'em, and I’ll be the first to say I’d rather not know. For every inch of water that dries up and drops my body, tightens the noose around my neck. My arms bound up tight won’t save me when the full force of gravity yanks downward on my body.

As I relax and give into the current, my body remains afloat while I let my neck loosen in hopes of shifting the noose. My mind continues to think of Zan and her words while my hands fumble to untie themselves.  

“A law” she said time and time over again whenever I’d roll back home with a mess or two trailing behind me. To Zan it was purely infuriating that I could be so callous and not think of her when dragging another round of trouble to the door. But this time in the back of my mind I knew there would not be another round as the water takes another drop with my neckline growing tighter. It’s when the tightness takes hold that I realize floating won’t much longer be a problem as the slow drop into the dry will snap my neck without question. Taunting me the water laps up and back across my chin dragging and easing the rope in a tug of war for life. A war that will end in freedom either way.

Dry. For too many men it means something different. One man is clean from his addiction, another is flat busted, and for me it means I’ll be out options if I don’t break free.

**Photo credit: tyler shields 

Strap it up!

Sometimes you're prepared for what life throws at you. Sometimes you are not. Either way, it's best to strap yourself up & pull it together. Ms. M figures people create situations without preparing for the consequences or in the event things don't go to plan. She tends to focus on what she can do and gets it done regardless of a little setback or two or challenging circumstances. How about you? 

Anyways... Here's a little micro about being prepared. Are you prepared in life to finished with what you start or do you simply give up when it doesn't go to plan?

Enjoy!

Kisses, m.

Strapped

2-20-2010

Strapped to the max. Enough fire power to blast a hole in this joint. Barrels blazing. Ready for action. 

Strapped. But that’s not always a good thing. All the ammo in the world can’t always prepare you for the unexpected outcome. The buildings on fire. Your firearm can’t help with that little problem. They’ve fit you with a pair of cement feet. As you descend to your watery grave, where is the use of a firearm? Shooting fish won’t free you and wasting ammo isn’t going to help anyone in the end. Strapped when you’re outgunned seems as useful as a life jacket at Niagara Falls. Certainly won’t keep you afloat. But there’s always the slim chance you will survive.

Card carrying member of the NRA? That won’t do you a damn bit of good in the field. Gun licenses and permits? No one cares if you’re allowed to carry the gun. The most important part is whether you know how to use it. In a pinch, the skill of a weapon is what will stand between you and death. Whether you can pull the trigger faster than the other guy is all that matters. My case and point, tonight I find myself outdrawing an adversary in the back room of a dive bar. He’s outarmed me. But my skill with the pistol is better. I can shoot the flea off a dog’s back without him flinching. Point? I never miss. That foolish bloke may have been strapped, but he lacked the grace and expertise of a true marksmen. He may have got off two shots, but he never came close. 

Two pistol tango. Kick down the locked doors and proceed tearing through a bar room full of amateurs. I can pick them apart without effort. It doesn’t make me feel any better. My menacing intent is wasted on sheer unprofessionalism. Bartender with a sawed off shotgun makes two holes in the door, yet never grazes my body. Down went the army of steroids holding up the pool table. Never needing more than two guns at any moment to make my way through the crowd. Thugs and sleazy barflies all step up for a turn to dance. In the end it’s just me and the two guns sliding across the floor to meet with the final target. Back door swings wide. Hello, Charlie?

Quick departure ensures a clean getaway in most cases. Not tonight. Rear entrance is guarded. Something I’d overlooked before walking into this endeavor. Pistol securely fastened in its holster as I exit in a roar. As soon as my ears identify the clicks of the gun, I knew it was over with. Bullet rips through my chest quicker than the sound escapes the chamber. Skill should have prepared me for this, but I didn’t see it coming. Falling face first and rotating back I can see the man who deals my death. Puddle of water absorbs my blood as the bastard walks up and stands over me. Asshole wants to watch me die. Sadistic SOB getting off while I’m lying here bleeding. Left hand grips my pistol tightly to defend myself. Foot comes down crushing the fingers of my hand. Cracking. Breaking. No chance I can shoot that gun. This the way he wants it. Probability of him living is greater without my gun involved. Defenseless? Strapped to the end. Kick of boot. Shift of leg. Hot metal tears through the skull of my executioner. Steel accented toes of a shoe can hold quite the mystery. Hello, Charlie? So very sorry, but I came prepared. 

*photo credit: Tyler Shields

As

Jealousy is an ugly & negative emotion that’s linked to anger not love. It’s not reflective of how you feel about someone. There’s times where it’s justified and feels like an instinct but realize it’s brought upon by insecurity. No, in fact it does not mean someone loves you more or vice versa. You can show you care in a different manner.  In Buddhism it is considered a form of greed to allow jealousy to consume you. Buddhism teaches that we must understand where these emotions come from and release them. Try practicing mindfulness and metta. It helps me balance my negative emotions. 

 

Now, inciting jealousy in someone is also unnecessary. Talking with a friend isn’t meant to cause jealousness or insecurities. But deliberately inciting jealousy through actions is.  Personally when a man decides to try to  incite jealousy in moi, I immediately have nothing to do with him.  This behavior will always drive things apart. Why?  Inciting jealousy only shows how insecure you are. It shows lack of trust and little regard for your love. If you want attention or validation… let your love know because there are more positive ways to go about it. 

 

And ladies, if your paramour is a mutual friend of mine, rest assured he and I agreed long ago not to be more. Bottom Line:  I could never be with a taken or married man. Adultry goes against my catholic upbringing & my buddhist beliefs about causing harm to others.

 

Here’s one about jealousy from a new series that I’m not sure where it’s going but soon I will reveal. 

 

Enjoy 

Kisses, m.

 

 

As

 

As he stands, 

She follows.

With her eyes, 

She chases after him. 

 

As he moves 

Through the crowd

Closer to me, 

His eyes smile. 

Noticing a familiar face.

It’s been a while. 

A friend. 

 

As he nears 

She scowls,

Pouting 

Like a child. 

Opening a book, 

She feigns nonchalance. 

 

As he nears 

I find myself

Leaning back.

I feel myself

Crawling inward

Wanting  to close my eyes. 

Thinking of waving him away

But I don’t. 

With a hint of sass and smirk, 

I let the moment unfold. 

 

As time has never passed 

Between our meetings,

Without pause, 

He’s pulled me

Into a hug. 

Quiet and brief,

Followed by a laugh. 

That’s far too loud. 

Ending with a smile. 

That goes on forever.

 

As our eyes part briefly

I can see her 

Without Calm. 
She’s hardly breathing. 

The gaze in her eyes,

Hardly masks her anger

Mixed with fear.

Gently mounting tears, 

Are close, 

When she swallows hard.

 

As my trepidation

Grows.

She‘s listening close,

Awaiting his story’s end. 

When it comes it’s all too soon. 

But she welcomes it 

With a crocodile smile. 

 

As we say our good byes

There are no grand gestures

Only see you laters and laughs. 

Grazing my arm, he bids me farewell,

Welcoming the warm hug that follows. 

 

As he is walking away slowly

Making his way 

Through the crowd

Back to her fury.

 

As he nears her, 

His movements slow further.

All the while

His focus shifts

Between her scowl and my smile. 

 

As one arm scolds her envy

While the other waves back to me. 

His unhappiness with her thickens

And grows heavier

With every intense step 

Of his feet.

 

As the focus 

Shifts. 

I collect myself 

Stepping back with a lean, 

Watching her movements

As she watches him continuing to watch me. 

 

 

 *photo credit: Tyler Shields 

Bird

The other day I watched a blue jay struggle to fly against the wind. It struggled with the flow but never stopped going. It was the answer I've been seeking for months to share with a friend and it was so simple.

Life changes and we struggle to face the currents holding us back but we must adapt to keep going. Things may not happen when and how you may want them to but you find a way keep going. 

People stop doing things & behave badly intentionally. While it's hurtful, realize there's no excuse for bad behavior. Why? A person who wants to do things continues no matter the struggle in their life, including reflect kindness. It's simple. It's a choice to maintain loving kindness to all and reap the karmic rewards.

All religions, even in Buddhism we attract what we reflect. People really aren't the problem. Struggle doesn't hinder you. It's part of the journey. The obstacle is the path. Yes it's hard, but after hardship comes so much opportunity. Believe that you deserve so many wonderful things. We all do. And ultimately realize that you're the only thing weighing you down in life. You have the power to set yourself free anytime you want without having to escape. 

Here's a story from the D men about struggle and letting go of things. It was written for a friend years ago. Do you continue when life is hard? 

Enjoy! 

Kisses, 

m.

Deadweight

(2-28-2011)

Gryphon Teller is sinking. Sinking like a stone to the very depths of the sea and in this moment he’s taking me along with him. Gryphon once told me he loved me and I believe that to be true. I believe very much that he loved me. But whether or not his love for me remains is yet to be seen.

And his grip locks tighter as the watery bottom nears closer.

Gryphon Teller isn’t a complicated man. At least he didn’t used to be. Unlike other men, he was satisfied by the little things in life. In fact he was quite the type of man that enjoys retelling the same story over and over without thinking a thing about it. And most often he still does.

Today he wears the same brand of jeans that my Dad and his Dad wear while talking about the price of gasoline in a story about the lawnmower. It’s a story from last week that doesn’t quite fit the mood or feel of the day but he tells anyway. Just like he told it last week over breakfast. Between his story and another cup of coffee, he tells me about testing his diving equipment. A test that requires a short dive and a couple hours on the boat. Before he resumes the same story, Gryphon tells me to “Come along for the ride. You’ll enjoy it.” And like so many times before I couldn’t see the harm in it.

Soon after we first met each other, I believed that Gryphon was the most interesting person I’d ever come across in my life. I’m not sure what it was that made him interesting. It might’ve been for his sense of fashion or how he talked about music or science. Perhaps it wasn’t any of those things, but I knew that there was something about him.

Simply put, Gryphon Teller is the kind of person you meet on the street once and never seem to forget. His charm never lacked for energy. Often people mistake that energy for something else when it isn’t that at all.  And just like so many others, I mistook that energy for something else.

Sometimes I’ll wake up at night. Snap right up out of a dead sleep that feels like falling. I can’t ever remember the dreams. The dreams aren’t what’s important. What’s important is that I know where I’m at. And how that feels.

It’s the same with Gryphon. Sometimes, I’ll find myself snapping. Sitting up and coming to attention. But instead of falling it’s sinking. And seeing how he really is before slipping back under the guise of unknown.

My life with Gryphon has become a bit like quicksand. Everyday we sink a little bit deeper. I used to like the feeling of sinking with him.

I can’t breathe anymore.

As I’m suiting up Gryphon tells me about the human brain. He tells me that the brain can survive without oxygen for a short time before telling me the tank only holds an hour’s worth of air. With a smile he puts the tank on my back and turns to his own equipment. It seems like an eternity that I’m staring at his back before swinging my legs over the edge of the small boat.

When he first told me about diving I was completely captivated. Listening to his stories about dives made accepting his invitation easy. Dive after dive sounded so amazing in his eyes. The world through Gryphon’s eyes was something so incredibly beautiful that I couldn’t help but contemplate seeing it. And then I finally conceded to.

When I first agreed to go with Gryphon he told me it would be a simple dive. They were always simple. And even this final one was supposed to be no different. But that first time when he said there would be “nothing to it” he was so very right. Gryphon’s words couldn’t be truer because there was nothing to it.

It was always nothing. And the only thing that changed this morning was my participation. His plan has always been the same. From that first time, I knew what diving alongside Gryphon entailed. It meant my trust.

Trust like love is something that you simply give. And when Gryphon gave me his I returned mine without question. Some people might tell you that love is full of twists and turns before you know what that means, and I couldn’t begin to disagree with them more.

Disagreeing at the depths of the sea is the last place you want to find yourself. Yet it’s where our argument finds its temperature to be perfect. The last minutes of air in the tank are counting backward on the dial as I move myself towards the surface. Gryphon hasn’t behaved like this before.

It had only been fourteen minutes since we left the boat when I couldn’t reach the valve on the spare tank. Three extra tanks he dragged down 50 ft with us. Beneath the blanket of dark I can still see his eyes in the thick mask. They’re letting me know that I’m not doing something right.

And I was wrong when he followed me back to the surface. Within minutes his legs coiled around mine as my hands pulled at the line alongside the boat. The thin cords attached to the extra tanks find themselves firmly wrapped around his legs. I can see the new look in his eyes when he can’t grab onto the boat. With a pull that releases the tanks. There’s panic.

Panic is as panic does.

Once Gryphon told me he wanted me to leave him. Because he couldn’t leave me. He needed someone to be there for me, he said. To reaffirm what he wanted he told me that I shouldn’t question it ever again. I knew this wasn’t what he wanted but he said it to me anyway. It hurt when he said it and I couldn’t imagine ever having to. Deep down, I would never leave him because he didn’t want me to.

“Let go.” I mouth the words as Gryphon’s panicked hands pull at my suit and hang tightly onto the cords weighted by the tanks that drag us down.

We’re sinking and he can stop us. The weight of the extra tanks pulls tightly against my waist. I want him to calm down enough to realize he can stop this. There’s not enough air to last another trip up to the surface for two of us. Foot by foot rushes past us in the darkness.

I can’t breathe and this moment feels more like the same dream.

Over and over again there’s a chance for release. In any situation there’s a chance for escape. Even in quicksand, there is a chance you can get out. You have to reach for it though.

Closer.

Closer to the bottom my love drags me. It’s when I start to think he doesn’t care that his actions change. Gryphon finds a moment in my eyes and stops. His tight grip loosens from my waist and pushes. There’s no more sinking as his hands untangle from the cords. We’re not going to die.

In a moment of effortless calm, Gryphon Teller looked into my eyes, realized that he was only sinking because he chose to and simply let go of the unnecessary weight.