I wrote the story myself. It's about a girl who lost her reputation, and never missed it.

- Mae West.


Reputations. Funny things, aren't they? I think the funniest thing about them is that we can never truly, really know what our own reputation is. When I was in school, I never seemed to hear gossip about myself, so I made assumptions of my own reputation, based on my own actions. I think, as it turns out, we become the number one proponent of whatever reputation follows us around. Which, if I can guess with any accuracy what mine may have been...its not that pretty. At least, not to me now, quasi-trying-to-grow-up and become a happy, healthy adult.

Lets talk for a second about how we all do shitty things. I mean really. You know you do. There are two camps of people: those who admit it, and those who don't. Those who admit it fall into two camps: Those who celebrate and revel in it, and those who are just fucking real with themselves, and move on. Then we have those in denial, who fall into two camps: hypocrites, who talk down to people who do exactly the same kind of shitty things they do, and those who stay silent and in denial.

I've tried to be one of the not-in-denial-deal-with-it-and-get-over-it people for the most part. Sometimes, your mistakes and mishaps are truly funny and stupid learning experiences that make great and entertaining stories, and sometimes they are just plain selfish and hurtful. I've always tried to keep the world from knowing the latter, because I don't take particular pride in the ugly side of my soul. I work every single day to chip more and more away at that ugly side, but I know it exists. It exists in all of us.

I've been told I give people too much credit. This is false. It doesn't take me long once I meet someone, even someone I really like, to see the personality traits that I don't like. I see things that I know other people will dislike, things that may be immature, I see life choices I don't agree with, and I see most of the things that I know annoy the shit out of me, and most likely annoy the shit out of other people too. And, having said that, I tend to really, genuinely like most people that I meet. It's not that I exclusively see the good in people. I'm not a saint, I have no desire to be best friends with every body, but the bottom line that I feel like a lot of people miss is this: Most people that you meet have something to offer, and if you could just take off your biased, baggage-ridden, defensive glasses of superiority, you would learn a whole hell of a lot.

Do people piss me off? All the time. Do people hurt me? More than I'd like.

And usually, when I come down from my self-appointed saint cloud to lick my wounds, I end up coming to the conclusion that this person is exactly like me. I can be mad/angry/upset/annoyed, and then I remember - I am fallible. I am extremely flawed. And I have a shit ton to offer the world. And so does this person - just not maybe to me at the moment. At the end of the day, we're both going to go home to families and friends who love us because of and despite our imperfections.

SO when you hear me say the phrase - as I so often do - that I really don't care what anyone thinks about me, its true. I live my life according to my own will - both good and bad. This does not mean I give myself license to be a complete asshole and to hurt others and say 'its just the way I am' - but I do give myself license to fuck up, make it better, and learn from it without convincing myself that I am a horrible person. The older I get, the more I see how much the same we all are. And while it's fun to gossip or slag other people for their poor choices, bad attitudes, and indiscretions, at the end of the day, we know we only do it to make ourselves feel better for being the extremely fucked up creatures that we can be at times.

This does not imply that we have to take doormat status and accept bullshit from people. If you don't like a friendship, or a relationship, or whatever -ship you're in - if its causing you pain, if it's unhealthy - change it. Find a way to change it or leave. Usually, if its worth it, it can be worked out. If its not - cut ties, and I mean really cut ties. Cut out all the negativity, move on, and forget it.

I am of the opinion that the hardest person in the world to love and like is yourself. Because you know what an asshole you are sometimes, you're the only one who really sees you completely, warts and all. If you can do that, I tell you my friends, it gets way easier to do with other people. Take out your own trash before complaining how bad the neighbor's reeks.

'Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.'

And so now, on to step one for me: Taking my own advice.

-JC

And I think to myself

My cynicism is constantly at war with my optimism. I know that isn't unique, I'm most certainly not even close to being the only person with this conflict. I think that I need to squeeze every ounce of truth or warning out of every situation, find the lesson, learn it, and think I've done my part to protect myself against the future, and maybe even protect others. I've learned how to effectively construct all the necessary fortifications to keep myself balanced, on an even keel, and sensible. Stable. Smart.

I have a confession to make. I don't want any of that.

I want to fall. I want to spin so madly out of control and far that I don't even recognize myself. I want to be consumed with the madness, all of it. Because life is madness, and nothing else. If we deny ourselves that, we deny ourselves everything.

I have to get it off my chest. I believe in love. I believe in love the way its been passed down from its inception. I believe its worth every ounce of pain or struggle or hurt we go through in our lives. And while I've made a great sport of putting it down, brushing it aside, and giving the tsk-tsk to those who give it due value, I'm done. I quit. So I've been hurt. So what? It'll keep happening whether I believe in love or not. The only difference is, belief gives way to hope. Hope gives way to a light at the end of the tunnel, whether its actually visible, within reach, or whether its light you can only imagine, traveling from the base of a star, not yet visible to the naked eye. I scoffed love and everything that goes along with it because of my firm commitment to never settling in life. But the irony in this way of thinking is that if I continue on that path, I ultimately settle on the belief that I'm not good enough for the kind of mad, passionate, lifelong, pain-worthy, life-changing, ever-challenging love that I KNOW exists. I know it does. Not everyone experiences, but not everyone believes in it. Or thinks they'll find it. Or thinks they're worthy. I'm not in that category anymore. It doesn't matter what happens from here on out, I believe in love. I will believe in it for the rest of my life. It's not this Hollywood shit. It's serious business. It's the person who you KNOW is going to let you down thousands of times because of their undeniable humanity, and that you're going to do the same. We're all stuck here on this one earth that we have. If we decide we want someone else to muddle through it with us, to the bitter end, that in itself is exquisite and beautiful, no flowers, no scented candles and rose petals needed. I believe this exists. I believe one day, I will have it, when and if the time comes that I deserve such a responsibility.

-JC

For Mary

All around me I see tragedy
people are dying and crying and trying
to see
afraid of what may be
and here I fly away,
to an endless sunny day
and all the while I'm trying to say

life is a wasteland wonderland
though the unplanned, underhanded
ways are trying to steal your spark
keep holding on,
holding on in the dark

the monsters have broken down my door,
i've been the broken down angel on the floor
the tigers have come, the reaper close
and all the while i've tried to smile
I suppose
because I know,
yes I know

life is a wasteland wonderland
though the unplanned, underhanded
ways are trying to steal your spark
keep holding on,
holding on in the dark

and I believe that even in death it follows so
that we live eternal for all that we know
and that love's not a feeling but a legacy kept
a promise to all who will leave, who have left
they steal your body, they steal your bones
they can break that shell, they can leave you all alone
but the heart is a fire that smolders untamed
for even the basest, faceless unnamed,
its embers fed from the lives of those you leave behind

life is a wasteland wonderland
though the unplanned, underhanded
ways are trying to steal your spark
keep holding on,
holding on in the dark

a little girl smiles and the light in here eyes
casts out the schemes and the demons and lies
her bright shiny heart is a testament to
all the things that life had waiting for you
and the angel you left to see it all through

No More

No more eating the scraps from the table.
No more throwing yourself down, just to see if you're able.
No more waiting.
No more calculating.
No more tasting the rotten fruits of deceit.
No more breaking your own heart just to see if it still beats.
No more rolling in the hay with pigs.
No more groupies of the gigs.
No more taking the road detoured.
No more needing time explored.
No more chalking it up to live and learn.
No more intentional crash and burn.
No more running wild and scared.
No more feeling unprepared.
No more hopelessness preserved.
No more less than what you deserve.

And you know what? Fuck, I do deserve it.

The Art Dealer

I should have known
I mean really, here's the man
who spends his life
telling other people
what they're worth.

Literally.
Dollars.
Cents.
Euro, Yen, whatever
a price for every one-
what will you pay?
Everything can be bought and sold, you know

I sat.
I listened rapturously
I drank the red wine you put in front of me
and I bought it

Batted my eyes as you talked about Hong-Kong
and giggled shyly as you comment
on my delicate manner, eating tiger prawns.
Why does no one take such care like that
these days? he asks, a faded London-lilt

I feel like a fairy princess
and am already disgusted with myself
for reasons I cannot name,
but smoking one of your cigarettes,
you know, the ones from Nairobi?
Oh you've never been?
Well here, let me light you up, he says.

and I do.

In your hotel room later,
I give you my best offer
you give a twist to an empty left-hand finger
you should keep your valuables closer, I say
after all, with the price of things
ah yes, the price of everything, he says
which you know well,
you then mumble something about Renoir
and antique watches

Random thought

People call me articulate because I am very good at speaking my mind and expressing my thoughts. But I'd rather be able to say whats in my heart.