Goodbye Gangee

Feel sorry for me will ya? Especially when they legalize Maryjane. Cuz I can never touch the stuff ever again. Not even if I have the rarest form of Cancer, am a paraplegic, and bleed from every pore on my body. Its all her fault.

Who's her? The neighbor from hell, that's who, everyone has had one or will have one at some point. May it be that we only suffer through one in a lifetime.
We shared a wall, thin wall, gosh darn wall. .. I put rug on the stair treads to make traversing back and forth sound proof, aren't I nice? Didn't matter, when ever she got the urge she'd call 911.

I cant tell you how many times I was woken by a very loud banging on both front and back doors. . "Cops, you okay in there?"
" Why officer? its only 3am, of course its quite, we were asleep!"

You get the picture? My roommate of sorts, likes the funny cigarettes, smoked quite upper-scale stuff too (I might add,) if I get more detailed I may start drooling. Let me focus. He would spark one up, and in less than say? two minutes? Knock knock knock, it would be the cops. Every time, I am not kidding! Never enough time to light an incense stick.
"Whats that you've got in your hand Maam?"
It became too tense to even consider smoking that stuff in my home. Kinda bit the big one. The end result is if I partake I become "cop sensitive", meaning they are everywhere. Behind that tree! See !! The glint of the metal from their shield? It's reflecting in that window a mile away. What you can't see that? Shit, they are behind us, wait, you hear those footsteps? They'll be knocking on the door any minute. Oh boy, look out the window, we're surrounded!

ITALIAN STYLE PIG STORY


The Three Little Pigs - Italian Style

Once upon a time there were three little pigs. The straw pig, the stick pig and the brick pig.

One day this nasty old wolf came up to the straw pig's house and said, "I'm gonna huff and puff and blow your house down." And he did !!!

So the straw pig went running over to the stick pig's house and said, "Please let me in, the wolf just blew down my house." So the stick Pig let the straw pig in.

Just then the wolf showed up and said, "I'm gonna huff and puff and blow your house down." And he did !!!

So the straw pig and the stick pig went running over to the brick pig's house and said, "Let us in, let us in, the big bad wolf just blew our houses down!"

So the brick pig let them in just as the wolf showed up . The wolf said, "I'm gonna huff and puff and blow your house down." The straw pig and the stick pig were so scared! But the brick pig picked up the phone and made a call.

A few minutes passed and a big, black Caddy pulls up.

Out step two massive pigs in pin striped suits and fedora hats. These pigs come over to the wolf, grab him by the neck and beat the living shit out of him, then one of them pulled out a gun, st uck it in his mouth and fired, killing the wolf, then they tied cement blocks around his feet threw his sorry ass into the creek then they got back into their Caddy and drove off.

The straw pig and stick pig were amazed!!! "Who the hell were those guys?" they asked.

"Those were my cousins... the Guinea Pigs

---

And a youth said, "Speak to us of Friendship."

Your friend is your needs answered.

He is your field which you sow with love and reap with thanksgiving.

And he is your board and your fireside.

For you come to him with your hunger, and you seek him for peace.

When your friend speaks his mind you fear not the "nay" in your own mind, nor do you withhold the "ay."

And when he is silent your heart ceases not to listen to his heart;

For without words, in friendship, all thoughts, all desires, all expectations are born and shared, with joy that is unacclaimed.

When you part from your friend, you grieve not;

For that which you love most in him may be clearer in his absence, as the mountain to the climber is clearer from the plain.

And let there be no purpose in friendship save the deepening of the spirit.

For love that seeks aught but the disclosure of its own mystery is not love but a net cast forth: and only the unprofitable is caught.

And let your best be for your friend.

If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.

For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?

Seek him always with hours to live.

For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.

And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.

For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

La La La

Current mood: disappointed
Category: Life

I've come to grips with my reality, which is? I'm okay today. It's just okay. It's okay to be alone, it's okay to have friends. It's okay to spend the day on the computer, it's okay to sleep. It's okay to work with my hands on my knees in the dirt, it's okay to dress all pretty and feminine just for myself. It's okay to listen to music some may believe is ridiculous, it's okay to dance my heart out. It's just okay.
You know I've spent a lot of time with myself lately. . .lol, hey it's okay! And I sit and wish I were with someone else. But really? who? who would think I wasn't boring, while I sit here bored with myself? think about it. . .so, shucks. . .unless I like where I'm at and what I'm doing, I'd rather not share my blah blah. . .I wanna share my life, the living of it, not the whining, or the trauma's, not the sadness (though that's always a part we can't avoid), but the joy of it!
And I've prayed and I've pleaded and I've wished and I've gotten angry. . .in the end, or shall I say, for right now. . .it's just okay. I get what ever I may get. It's the outlook I've noticed that's part of the answer. I'll keep pushing forward, hold onto the ledge my friend, and then? Well, is it okay today?
It's okay to look at a puddle, watch the ripples, if that's all you have left to appreciate on the worst of days. It's okay to shed a tear, let it out and breath a sigh of fresh air, when it's all done. It's okay to laugh like it's the funniest thing you've ever heard. Okay to look someone in the eye and say, "no, I disagree". Doesn't mean I don't care, just means I disagree. . .and well, what am I really blogging about?
I guess, I'm just reminding myself, it's okay, to just be okay. Is that okay with you?

Facebook | Corinne Costantino

Facebook | Corinne Costantino

Here I sit. . .

This is amazing, I'm stumped!

I'm just sitting here,
mouth ajar,
shoulders hunched,
tears just waiting to erupt. . .for what?
I'm at a loss for brain waves.
What just happened?

Do I start making fun of myself now?
Lighten the heaviness in my chest?
Or should I just unload my confusion on this site. . .
(no one's gonna see it anyway. . .)
heck, if I knew what I'm even thinking maybe I'd get a clue?

There's always something, isn't there?
Someone says a word out of place,
maybe you forget something important,
sometimes it can just be the weather.
Yet, there's always something.
Now if I could only find out what the hell it is!

I've been teetering back and forth between the best of myself,
and the aftermath of the worst of myself. . .
It's been an interesting battle,
sometimes I wait on the side lines, rooting for the hometeam,
other times I'm right in the thick of it,
and again even more so,
I wonder how to take myself totally out of the equation.
Not get in my own way, so to speak. . .
It's not that simple.
Never has been,
It may feel like it's easy on a good day,
but on one of these moments (just this funky minute)
I'm stuck, and it hurts to move in any direction.
What is that?

I guess all I'm trying to do with this Blogger site is put together a page for my bestfriend. . .
which it so happens, IS ME!!!

Remind myself who I am,
What I like
What makes me tick
Share my special stuff with myself,
Sounds weird maybe, but I have a reason. . .
Got to find that joy again, that pure joy of life. . .
the joy that comes from being true to yourself. . .

So I'll paste the pics I love,
Post the sayings that touch my heart strings
Put up stuff I enjoy doing. . .maybe even memories
Imagine????
Spew my shit, share my laughter, and even confusion
at myself. . .
And when I croak, maybe I'll pass this site onto my kids?
Who knows?