too cold outside

They yell at her, blame her for the lead. She's playing cards and forgets how to add. He holds the king, the card she needs to get her release number. Sift through the deck. Hundreds of cards are before her. She sifts frantically, stopping long enough to kiss the lips and remember that's not her card. So they blame her for tears and a faulty hand. Try harder this time but she just gets farther from the truth. Movies remind her what she needs to do. She probably won't win the game but a train and new city will give her the king back. She's hopeful. Romantic. Pictures it perfectly. Standing across the street so that he can't see her. The first time she mutters a mans' name, feels foreign in her mouth.

Dry throat, scared girl, no certainty. But she wants to dive. They all say it's too far, too high, she won't survive. Knees shaking, crumbling beneath her. She stands across from him with no strength. It will end in more tears and he'll probably steal the rest of the deck from her when she's looking. But she has to know, see him.

Her throat chokes as his picture comes to the surface. Hasn't seen him since nineteen. She doesn't want to go outside tonight.

I thought I already said my goodbyes

But I still look at your facebook at least once a week. Even though all I can see is your profile picture. But I still think about how you're doing. But every day there are things that remind me of you. I can't listen to that song anymore. Makes me sick and sad to my stomach. Move on, get over it. How many times have I said that? How many times have you said that? How many times has everyone said that? Does it ever really happen? I wish it would happen fully. Completely and totally. I've tried and maybe this just makes me look like an asshole. The things we don't talk about, right? Just hold a smile. Just love again. It's not easy but it's possible. That's what gave me hope. That word. Possible. So I sucked it all back up, pulled in the reigns. They were wild, struggling hard, but I still managed them. I loved since you. I hurt since you. I lived since you. So why am I still thinking about you? I'm so lost right now. I pretend to have it all figured out, that I know what I'm doing.

I had hope for so long but that changed. Then I was introduced to acceptance. And that was enough for me. So why do I still wonder? Why do I feel like I'm walking aimlessly? I want to scream at the top of my lungs until it makes sense again. I want to cry until my eyes are so red that all I can do is sleep.

I have this plan in my mind. One of many that have passed through my mind over the years. But I'm getting better at being able to hold onto plans lately. You live once and I will regret it forever if I back out again.

I'm so scared.

not your average bookstore

I knew the topic right away but wanted to dive into my ever wonderful world of the internet answers to find some research behind me. Hey, it's a touchy subject. Girl wants to have her back covered. But, in doing so, I found that the word I'm looking for isn't polygamous. Dear everyone else who was unaware of this, this is the Ethical Slut. Think about it for a moment. Got it? Ok. Like I said, controversial. But hang in there with me. Come on a trip of discovery with me ...

Once so taboo now I'm not so sure. Then again, wasn't being gay considered taboo at one time ... not too far long ago? And even still is today to select people and groups. Minorities have been overpowering over the years. Yes, it's always going to be hard with certain people but in the end we're here and we're living better lives than our ancestors. Loving is coming into light. If I've learned anything in my little 21 years it's that love is fluid. There are no restrictions and there shouldn't be because it's the thing that makes life worth living. There is the love you have for your friends. For your family. Different from your mother to your aunt to your great grandfather on your dad's side. For your lover. Some love the same sex. The opposite. Both. One. Two. More. Men who were born women. Vice versa. Animals too. Carpet munching lions. Fudge packer giraffes.

What kind of people would revel in calling themselves sluts? And why would they insist on being recognized for their ethics? In most of the world, "slut" is a highly offensive term. But isn't it interesting that the analogous word "stud," used to describe a highly sexual man, is often a term of approval and envy? So women all over are reclaiming the word "slut" as a term of approval, even endearment. Sluts may choose to have solo sex or to get cozy with the Fifth Fleet. They may be heterosexual, homosexual, or bisexual. Radical activists or peaceful suburbanites.

Ok, you're probably like "Shit, Shane, what are you talking about? What are you up to now?" Right? Yeah, I figured. Just for future reference, I want to have one lover to spend my life with and raise a family with. What I want right now isn't up for discussion. I'm still figuring it out.

Those who set off down the path of exploring new kinds of relationships and new lifestyles often find themselves blocked by beliefs - about the way society should be, the way relationships should be, the way people should be - that are both deeply rooted and unexamined. We have all been taught that one way of relating is the only right way; lifelong monogamous heterosexual marriage. We are told that all of that is "normal" and "natural"; if our desires don't fit into that constraint, we're obviously either morally deficient, psychologically disturbed, or (my personal favorite) "going against nature." What was it that my grandmother told me when I was about 12 years old? Oh yeah. "Chelsea, every girl can find a nice boy."Yeah, we all see how well that worked out.

"Beliefs about this traditional marriage date from agrarian cultures, where you made everything you ate or wore or used, where large extended families helped get this huge amount of work done so nobody starved, and where marriage was a working proposition. When we talk about "traditional family values," isn't this the family we should be talking about? An extended family of grandparents and aunts and cousins, an organization to accomplish the work of staying alive. Curiously, controlling sexual behavior didn't seem to be that important outside the propertied classes until the Industrial Revolution, which started a whole new era of sex-negativity. Maybe because of the rising middle class and the limited space for children in urban cities. Doctors and ministers in the late eighteenth century even began to claim that masturbation was unhealthy and and sinful. The most innocent of sexual outlets was dangerous to society." We even had manuals to show pregnant women how to keep their unborn children from touching their genitals in their sleep. Really?

"But human nature will win out. We are horny creatures, and the more sexually repressive a culture becomes, the more outrageous its covert sexual thoughts and behaviors will become, as any fan of Victorian porn can attest."

Test #1, Make a list of all the people you can find who are not monogamous or have trouble staying monogamous, including characters from TV, movies, books, and so on. How do you feel about each of them? What can you learn (positive or negative) from him or her?

Here are a couple a no joke, completely legit gimme's. Now find your own! David Letterman (you old dog!) Woody Allen. Liz Taylor. Brad Pitt (Like you didn't know! It was all over the media when Brad took up with Angelina on the set of Mr. & Mrs. Smith. Too bad Mrs. Pitt - also known as Jennifer Aniston, aka Rachel from friends - was also in the picture. Not for long though. Brad dumped Jen in 2005 and Brangelina was born. And none of the players have been out of the tabloids since.)

Voodoo! Taboo!

I'm too tired to write anymore so this is going to be a blog through the book titled "The Ethical Slut". You can find it in either your local bookstore (maybe ... if you live in california ... in san francisco. No, that wasn't a shot at your homo-tendencies, California. Wouldn't want you to get offended since you ran back in the closet on that bill. ANYWAY! Or you can find it on google. :)

sometime is here

We've met, but you don't remember me.

I worked for a company you hired to have part of your memory erased.

In order to correct this, I'm sending everyone's fixile back to them.

My name is Clementine Kruczynski.
I'm here to erase Joel Barish.
He's boring. Is that enough reason to erase someone?

I've been thinking lately how I was before and how I am now,
and it's like he changed me.

I feel like I'm always pissy now. I don't like myself when I'm with him. 

I don't like myself anymore.

I can't stand to even look at him. 

That pathetic, wimpy, apologetic smile.
That sort of wounded puppy shit he does, you know? 

What are you doing?

I'm not doing anything! 

The bloom is certainly fucking off the rose at this point.

------------------------------

Joel Barish.

Hey, Clementine. Hey.
Really very educated.
I mean, she's smart, I think, 

but not educated.

I couldn't really talk to her about books, you know?
She's more of a magazine-reading girl.
Her vocabulary leaves something to be desired.

Sometimes ... I was embarrassed in public ...

Because she would pronounce...
library "libary."


I think if there's a truly seductive quality about Clementine,
it's that her personality promises to take you out of the mundane.
Amazing, burning meteorite...
will carry you to another world where things are exciting.

But what you quickly learn is that...

it's really an elaborate ruse.


So flashy in a kind of obvious way.
But still, 

it seduces you. 

Where's the real Clementine?
I mean, the whole thing with the hair ... it's all bullshit.
The world's a goddamn mess.
Is it some kind of a revolt? Change your hair color. 

No, I don't think her sex is ... motivated.


I saw it clearly the last night we were together.
It wasn't sex. It was just sad.


I thought there was more.
The only way Clem thinks she can get people to like her ...
is to fuck 'em ...

or at least dangle the possibility of getting fucked in front of'em.


And she's so desperate and insecure...
that she'll, sooner or later, go around fucking everybody.

I thought I knew her so well.

What a loss to spend that much time with someone,

only to find out that she's a stranger.

------------------------------

Wait.

What? 

I don't know.
Just wait. Just wait. 

What do you want, Joel?


I don't know. I want you to wait for ... just a while.


Okay. 

Really?

I'm not a concept, Joel. 

I'm just a fucked-up girl who's looking for my own peace of mind.

I'm not perfect. 

I can't see anything that I don't like about you.

Right now you can't. 

But you will. But you will.

You know, you will think of things, 

and I'll get bored with you and feel trapped...

because that's what happens with me.


Okay.


Okay.


Okay. 

-

Look around you

Change your heart
It will astound you

Now, I need your lovin'
Like the sunshine

Everybody's gotta learn sometime.

one last thing.

The project will be your words over someone else's picture to keep privacy but to also show that we are one in the same.

No matter your class, gender, race, sexual orientation, religious beliefs, etc (I could go on) ...

we all feel.

For everyone who shared something, can you comment below with your name and permission to use your profile picture in the project?

Thanks for helping!! I'll send a copy to everyone who posts.

one thing.

All I'm asking you to do is finish this sentence as a comment on here anonymously.

It can be a sentence or it can be a paragraph. It's up to you.

All you have to do is be completely honest. Hence why people are staying anonymous.

Write what's real ... to you.



"If you really knew me, you'd know that ... "

when it was real.

Little lies. White tales of the past. A whole past that at this point can't be rewritten. No one would believe me anyway. Even if they did, they wouldn't understand my reasons. Hell, I don't even understand. So young. So lost. So naive. So I keep it to myself and giggle a little. More innocent. More fragile. Than anyone would ever imagine. Icing on my cake, just grab me another beer. I'll drink it all myself tonight. I don't need your help. I never did. No one would believe me anyway.

She was my teacher. Motioning with her finger to come learn. My heart was beating fast and my hands were shaking. I tried to keep my cool but damn it if I didn't break every piece of that glass heart. The first reality of my life. The first gift of myself I gave away. Too young to deal with her problems. It always seems I find them at the worst times. At sixteen you're not equipped to help someone stay on their path. Running away lead to the daze of long drunken nights. Nights she wouldn't let me touch her. Nights she would leave me out of the room. I was too young to care or see the signs. Next time I'll learn my lesson. Next time it will be real.

I was honest with my mistake. A day late, an hour short. She never showed. I just wanted to tell her. To her face. I just wanted to cry. To her face. I wanted her to know. To her face. She gave me her hand and walked away. I don't blame her. But I loved this person. Quiet and sweet. Something like the feet of a deer. Lightly touching the ground but alert at the same time. She was warned  from the beginning but allowed her mind to open. I was happy. I was in love. Our time took ages off of my youth. I learned more through her eyes than I ever did with the motion of that finger. But time for us was sweet and kind and also dirty and painful. Bleeding and broken, we both moved on. Then I realized not only had I lied to her and everyone else, I had fooled myself as well. It was too late. I just like fucking you wasn't the last words I had hoped to hear as our time faded into the background.

I think at the beginning it was for your looks. Had them on my fish hook. And then it was your smile. And then your heart. I never expected you. I think that's why it was so easy to love you. But when one person wants a relationship and the other wants a fuck buddy with a label, your views tend to conflict. I would still be interested to see what would have happened if I wasn't already too tired to care. I sat outside your house and talked with you as you left me. You gave me a paragraph while I had given you a piece of my heart. I refused to let it happen in front of you. Composure. It's the only saving grace I have anymore. I made it around the corner before I couldn't drive anymore. I just sat there. While you were already back inside, playing footsie under the covers with someone new.

I could have stayed with you. I could have been happy with you. You should have grown up faster. Or maybe not. Maybe this is how it's supposed to happen. You gave me time to figure myself out. You gave me time to see other people. To slip into sheets and lay bare the next day, not remembering why I even tried in the first place. To forget you. To let you go. To accept what was happening. What has been happening. What has already happened. We'll meet again. This time I'll be less broken. This time I'll be braver. This time I'll leave my jealous heart at the door and only bite the girls who you let in. A lot of them try. Still. It hurts. Did you know that? Did you know the way you say her name sends me into a sick panic? Did you know I'm fucked up? Did you know I blame you a little bit? Did you know I still love you? Did you know it's still so real for me?

I was your first love and I got caught up in that. I loved being on your pedestal. For the first time, I didn't feel so broken. I didn't feel so flawed. I thought someone could actually look at me and see a good person. See a good lover. See someone worth a heart again. I was wrong.

You're a fool. I loved you. It was real. She kept coming back though. Stepped in the way. Ruined your dreams. Crashed your hopes. Hopes of making me better. Fixing what was wrong with me. It worked too. Too well. I even fooled myself. I'm not an angel. I'm not worth the world or your life or your heart. I'm worth what I give. So if I give you a strand, you better give me back half. I have to fight for it. Otherwise it's not worth it anymore. I have to get that rejection. I have to feel the loss to feel the love. I'm a god damn beautiful contradiction. You want my heart? Make me work for it. Make me work for you. Give it to me on a silver platter and I already know it doesn't work that way. I won't fall for it. Give it to me on a silver platter and what's the fun in that? You can't fool me anymore. And I'm tired. And lonely. And on overload of heart ache.

When it was real, it was great.
But somewhere along the line, I realized that I'm not your housewife to make.