Here's a "Have A Better Life" Tip

Every time you complain,
 Mirror it with something you're grateful for.

It'll keep your life in balance,
remind you that it's not so bad,
and over time minimize your complaints.

Happy Monday all!
♥ Shay

I Go Insane, Crazy Sometimes...

 I Love Maxwell! This is my favorite song from the Phoneixrising album. Yes, even more than Pretty Wings. He's supposed to be coming to Saint Louis with Jill Scott. Hopefully I won't miss him this time. I really love the old school video feel. Just him and the stage and the camera. It's nice. Enjoy you guys.

Simplified Complicated

After my last post, I got to talking to my booski via skype about sex without love, and then some more stuff. I love having smart friends, because they're capable of juggling complex ideas with you and can be okay with not reaching a solution.

Summary: we came to the conclusion that I like things in life a little complicated...or elaborate, if you will. It's a bittersweet addiction. On one end, my complicated life keeps me on my toes, keeps me motivated, moving, working towards something, it's exciting! But on the other side of the coin, complicated can get dirty, stressful, tiring, painful, and leave me running for the hills.

Which brings me to the point that I like my simplicity. I do. But I know I don't want a simple life. For one, I'll always be expecting it to go belly-up and get wayyyy out of line. Or if it doesn't do that, I'd just be bored, and probably settle into some pattern of complacency of life.

So how do I balance the two? I make simple choices in a complicated life. My friend argued back that you can't make simple choices for everything, and my counterargument was that I just have a simple procedure for reaching my conclusions and stances on things.  Why? Because life is gonna be complicated regardless of what plans you make. People with the best plans can still have fucked up lives. So why exert the extra effort of trying to avoid the inevitable?

I rather save that adrenaline for when the storm comes instead of hyping myself up on what MIGHT happen. I spent a good part of my life always worried bout what would happen next and the consequences of not weighing all the options of the future, blah blah blah.  Well, I don't even know all the options of the future, and all I really know is where I come from and what I am in the very moment. Everything else is a foolish attempt to play God. And trying to be God is a move that the devil himself knows isn't a good role to try to play.

I focus on the here and now and doing the best i can at the margin of time closest to me. When it feels too mundane, i reevaluate myself for complacency, for a decrease in drive, for a decrease in love of life. Because the easiest way to make it through life is to go through loving it. And if you aren't loving live, then life is just happening to you and you're not living at all.

I'm a complicaed being, I know. And I feel so misunderstood so much. I felt misunderstood having the conversation that this post stemmed from. I feel like my parents don't get me, and even my very best friends will attest that they've had their moments where all they could say was "WTF are you doing Shay?" Just for me to look at them, give them what I think is a  logical answer, and them still just writing it off as whatever.

I don't really take it personal anymore. Okay, that's a lie, I kinda sorta get in my feelings. But I remember that they have moments I don't understand them and just let it be.

It's hard being complicated sometimes, but I would hate to be simple and boring. I don't know. Maybe I already am.

Because I really want some tulips...

♥ Shay

How Do They Do It? [#cosign]

Was talking to one of my god-sisters tonight, and we somehow brought up the poem "Sex Without Love" by Sharon Olds. This is one of those poems that led to interesting conversation my summer at SWP (shoutouts to Carleton!) and that I still cling to. Mainly because it's opening question is one that I really want to have answered. Some people are capable of seperating the physical from the emotional, or so it seems. How do they do it? Or even better, is it possible to have sex without love? And if it isn't possible, doesn't that mean that the people who think it possible are lying to themselves?

Check out the poem. It's one of my favs:

Sex Without Love by Sharon Olds

How do they do it, the ones who make love

without love? Beautiful as dancers,

gliding over each other like ice-skaters

over the ice, fingers hooked

inside each other's bodies, faces

red as steak, wine, wet as the

children at birth whose mothers are going to

give them away. How do they come to the

come to the come to the God come to the

still waters, and not love

the one who came there with them, light

rising slowly as steam off their joined

skin? These are the true religious,

the purists, the pros, the ones who will not

accept a false Messiah, love the

priest instead of the God. They do not

mistake the lover for their own pleasure,

they are like great runners: they know they are alone

with the road surface, the cold, the wind,

the fit of their shoes, their over-all cardio-

vascular health--just factors, like the partner

in the bed, and not the truth, which is the

single body alone in the universe

against its own best time.

Mhmz.... food for thought. What side of the fence do you sit on?