Bruises

"Those of us born by water are never afraid enough of drowning. Bruises used to trophy my knees from my death-defying tree climb jumps. Growing up, my backyard was a forest of blackberry bushes. I learned early nothing sweet will come to you unthorned." -- Clementine Von Radics

Musings

When I was fourteen I liked a boy who liked me and one other.

He told me, “I love your personality and your intelligence but I am more attracted to her physically.”

To him, this was what it all boiled down to. The final showdown in the impossible case of personality vs beauty. It weighed heavily on him until he excitedly declared me victorious. Congratulations personality! I won a boy who let me know that I wasn't what he desired aesthetically. How endearing!

We lasted a few short weeks as I was not interested in intimacy. He told his friends I was a prude. I told my friends how I quickly realized I was now only attracted to his intelligence, not his looks or his personality. He made me feel insecure and therefore he was impossible to look at.

I never even kissed him.

I heard whispers that he was once again seeking the affections from her. The other girl. She assured him that she could provide all those fantasies a vanilla suburban kid could want. Make out sessions, hand jobs and maybe even a blow job! I wanted him gone.

So, at fourteen I went right up to him after school. My eye was nervously twitching. I looked directly into his eyes and said, “I don’t need this shit. I don’t need this drama. I don’t need you. You don’t get to have me.” He cried.

I scampered off and I have carried both that situation and that conversation with me for years.

Why, dear boy, why would I ever want to give any part of myself to someone who clearly does not deserve me? I will not be lied to, tricked or deceived. You will not make me sad. I am worthy of love. I am worthy of respect.

He and the other girl dated for a few years. She lost her virginity to him. He lost his to her. They were quite cute, really.

A little while later she began dating one of my very best guy friends. He once told me that he was just occupying his time until I fell in love with him. At his seventeenth birthday party he whispered to me as she sat nearby, “you’re the most beautiful girl here."

Stay Hydrated

A few weeks ago my dad called me. He called to tell me that his hometown was over 100 but he’s staying hydrated by drinking a lot of water. Don’t worry, he said, I’m fighting this dehydration.

My dad only started calling me this year. I went five years without speaking to him at all after I sent police to his doorstep when he faked a suicide attempt for attention. Eventually he forgot that he was angry at me and started calling me again. He just likes to hear his voice but it’s okay because sometimes it’s a nice voice to listen to.

There are parts of me that really dislike him but I can’t find it in myself to hate him like my sister does. He is, undoubtedly, one of the worst human beings that I've ever had the displeasure of knowing but he’s just this fucked up little child at heart. I can’t help but pity. I pity him because he isn't part of our family. I pity him because he doesn't know my nephew. I pity him because he lost the absolute best and most loving family. He isn't strong enough.

One time he asked my brother and I if something positive came out of his alcoholism. He wanted validation that he did something right. Reinforcement that he had a hand in raising us. I told him yes. Yes, dad. You taught me what not to be. My brother agreed.

Stay hydrated, pop.

Clementine Von Radics

I recently came across a young poet living in Portland, Oregon.  I have never considered myself poetry enthusiast and I am undoubtedly not a beatnik but I have just found myself devouring her work. Her name is Clementine Von Radics. Below is one of my favorite poems by her.

"You have 6 tattoos.
Full lips. Good, strong hands.
You have 7 freckles on your back,
they map out the big dipper.
You have a scar on your left arm
you carved in high school.
The first time you pulled off your t shirt
I traced the line with my fingers and fell in love
with your strength.

You are a hero
for living from that moment
to this one. You never need to apologize
for how you chose to survive
Your body is a map I know every inch of
and if anyone else
were to kiss me, all they would taste
is your name."  -- Clementine Von Radics

You can read more of her work over at her website. 

xox

Sunken City, California

In 1929, a landslide in San Pedro, California, caused a neighborhood of exclusive homes to tumble into the ocean. At its peak, the land movement was measured at an astounding 11 inches a day.

Today it's called Sunken City.

You can view Sunken City at the south end of Pacific Avenue or the east end of Point Fermin Park at Paso Del Mar and Gaffey Street.

Or you can ignore the "no trespassing" signs, duck under a fence and explore the lost city and its wonderful street art on your own.

Photos taken by John Kingston. My rolls will be developed eventually. You can view more over on Facebook.