A Random at the Bar

December 28th, 2012

I shared my deepest thoughts with someone,
He was a random at the bar.
I noticed he liked to draw and write, like so I figured in a sense we were not that different.
It was near closing time and the kitchen had already shut down, the bar was empty except for a couple all the way at the other end, and while my shift was done.
I decided to stay a little longer and talk.
Socialize I suppose you can say.
He asked me those generic questions, the ones where it just surfaces the life of someone.
I told him how I admired his pictures and art work,
The way he was so freely expressive.
He asked me what I did on my free time, or when things got boring.
“ I write, write what I see and feel, write about anything, and sometimes I draw”
I told him about this small travel notebook I carry with me everywhere.
He asked me if I had it with me.
I walked back to the desk where my bag was hiding and pulled out my leather black small notebook.
It had my most intimate thoughts and dreams, my moments in life that I had surpassed.
It had everything. And never once have I shared it with anyone.
He asked to see it, but I never thought he would actaully look through it.
I saw his eyes skim, he pointed at certain things, laughed and questioned.
When he finally put it down he looked up at me and said
“You are one angry horny teenager”
I cooly just replied “Nothing wrong with feeling a little anger and pleasure, such opposite feelings, women write and read erotic things, men watch porn. Give us credit for at least using our imagination, women are so shut in by society and given labels for simply enjoying sex, don’t you think that should be broken by now?”
He just simply nodded his head and smiled in defeat and said “yea, I was like that when I was your age”
He was a random at the bar, for a moment I showed who I was as a person.
And it was accepted, there was that great feeling of connection and acceptance,
Finding someone who gets you, who knows you, because at some point
They were you.

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A Random at the Bar

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner!

What I see, is a game and tracks
I don’t call myself a player,
But thats exactly what I am doing.

Just a girl, having her fun.
Fun. That kind of fun.
The fun where you make heads turn.
The fun where you just linger on their lips and nothing else.
The fun where you run your fingers through their hair and bite your lip
The fun where you have guys falling at you.
The fun where you watch them want you.
And you just tease them so they believe it.
There is a chance.
And you bash your eyelashes and smile.
You wear your makeup to hide your face.
You just play it, you make a show, the ideal performer.
You deserve a Grammy, or some big award
You make people want you, and yet the one
You actually want, doesn’t want you.

And when they start to want something more,
Start to feel and demand something, try to tie those strings
Like a puppet, like a leash, Before they can even put it around your wrist…
You cleverly just disappear.
You become no one.
Just THAT girl, an old memory,
A one night stand, a random hookup.
Because for you, you’d rather just be
Known as that girl,
Not as their girl, not anyone’s girl.

Learning to do this without feeling.
What they feel, I feel nothing.
It’s a joke, a game.
And I am the main player, the center piece.
The trophy everyone wants to reach for.
And yet he seems to be the only able to take it.
he has taken it before, so now to him
It’s a memory game.
That is why he keeps on winning.
A victory!

Maybe a new person hasn’t reached that level,
They’re still stuck on some other obstacle course
They have not been able to surpass it because of obstacles of some sort.
They have not defeated that big boss at the end of the castle.
Is that me? Am I the big boss, or is it he,
not letting anyone through?
I am my own obstacle, my own mind and morals.

Why have I turned into this kind of person?
This person who just doesn’t care about people,
Selfish? Am i?
Am I selfish for just trying to do me.
Ha! Shallow? ME?!
Yes, I am shallow, with reasons.
Trying to dedicate myself to me, and not some other incompetent ass?
That is a fair excuse isn’t it? Just trying to do me, there is no harm in that.
Nobody said I was not allowed to just figure out what makes me happy,
who makes me happy.
And how they make me happy.

So yea, I guess I just straight up told myself,
Play it all and risk it,
Winner, winner, chicken dinner.
Be the player,
And always remember,
Don’t take it too seriously,
After all it is only a game.

 

Happy readings!

– Marz

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Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner!