2/3/2016 8:40

2/3/2016 8:40 AM

I made an incredible new human friend last night. We met at Cedar Plank after a coffee tasting. I think my mouth was too dirty to really get flavor. I hadn’t coconut pulled or brushed my teeth that day since the night was filled at Vince’s place and the order did not involve mine, Marfa being twenty minutes away from Alpine and all. I’m enjoying the bliss out of this though. I don’t feel I  ‘need’ any place. I just need my backpack of things and I could live and be anywhere. The nomad life for me. I remember the first time I heard about gypsies and thought they were dream people. I then thought I’d been in a dream through my life and they were reality.

Then I learned they steal a lot and tend to be terrible people. The sadness soaked my soul but I still held some love for them. Back then I was so easily swayed by other’s opinions. Anything they said, especially as negative, was truth to me. It scared my parents. One day my father came up to me and said him and mom had figured it out. “You believe whatever the last person you talked to you told you to believe.” I paused because I’d just told him I believed in whatever it was the last person told me to believe. I think it was that there was no God and if there was he was evil. Something that scared my Christian parents.

They’re the best type of Christian though. They question everything. Father does at least. He even studied it intently in college. Mother went to religion to save her from a fucked up past. It’s why she tells us we just haven’t been through enough to need religion, but we will go to it. I think she’s growing with that though, but it is rough for her. To imagine us going to hell and work through that was such a painful journey for them.

Just two days ago she told me that all her children are so independent and she loves that. In fact, how could she have expected any different?

I love that woman.

She’s so real.

I wish she didn’t have so much buried pain though…it comes out only with shovels dripping in our veins as we try to give her love. She fears our love. We’ve broken it too much.

Last night…sigh…I’d had absinthe again for testing to see if I could find more to it. I only  had a glass of red, oh fuck this amazing Merlot, I think it was called Mad Dog Merlot or some such thing. I told my brain to remember the brand and it did pretty well. I know it had dog in it. The flavor was so deep, dry, and clean. I couldn’t ask for more in wine. It hit everything my mouth could desire, and it knows what it desires when it comes to wine. We don’t want only one note but we don’t want a blend. Give us about three and no more. We like the taste to change just once, like a song on the tongue, as it goes from an initial bold and dry touch of the mouth and then crescendos or decrescendos with the rest of itself. This one had a smooth crescendo. Mmmmmm. Mouth memories.

In annoying noise the wind keeps splitting the ends of my hair. And making it so fucking fluffy.

Sigh….on absinthe I fear I am most true and it makes what I’m about to do hard.

I told Vince that I was in love with someone else, that I had met my true love. My very being couldn’t deny it. I felt so raw and found and lost. I felt like I’d known all along. I felt like I had to go to him. I planned out how. I planned walking through that door, saying I’d truly tried and gone through every other human on this Earth (this would be years from now when that was true) and that I just wanted him.

You know who.

It was so pure.

There was nothing else there.

I didn’t want anyone else there.

And I felt him.

Through all this world I felt him.

I do it all the time. I do it when nights go quiet. I reach out and feel him within seconds, wonder if I’m just feeling the depths of myself and it’s an illusion, and let his eyes take over my being. Sometimes I go to sleep with that feeling and have the most vivid dreams of my reality.

Oddly though he’s never been in the dream.

He’s never actually been a character in them, not one that was in my waking dreams at least, and thus I don’t remember it.

How odd.

Or maybe it lends to it being reaching into me rather than some string that connects us.

That thought doesn’t spiral me anymore. The not knowing. I still see it as this journey. Which is badass because I totally had a whole muffin yesterday, and an Annie’s Mac and Cheese that I even microwaved….yeah…but I remembered it being mindsafe from the beginning of this experiment. Honestly all of it felt just fine. I also had tacos, without the tortilla wrap at my favorite loving bar of all time. Seriously. Of all time. Last night I said twice how much the owner impresses me. The food is ALWAYS good, and I don’t caps lightly. He has consistent and unique quality of delicious. You can get unique in places, and you can get consistent quality, but you never get the two together with every single thing you have in an establishment.

Every single thing I have from that establishment has been unique and delicious.

Including the humans I’ve met there.

7 is seriously going to have a dedication to that bar. I’d already planned it. His sign says Social Irrigation across the bar and ours is going to say…fuck I forgot.

Social Fondling..no something clean. I have it written down somewhere.

On that note, since Justin’s in it since we discussed the sign for minutes weeks ago, he is….becoming an alcoholic more and more. I heard, in incredible news yesterday, that he is planning on going to Colorado with some friends soon. Fuck yes. He needs out. Yesterday…or two days ago…okay the memory is a bit ‘off’ and I’ll analyze it later, but at some point not right now Justin fucked up. I care more about the bar then him. He was ‘out’ to me. Usually he handles customer like the bardic pro of drinks. He twists them new specialties and flavors that never miss their mouth’s marks. He dances with words all over the bar and he either two steps like a man with Western pride or ballroom dances lady’s hearts with roses stroking their noses. He was perfect. He laughed with control, he had control. 

Once upon a time ago, probably was two days, he was drunk at work. Or just lost. Or both. I could tell. He only did drinks on the menu. A woman asked what he recommended and he said “I don’t know, laughed in a weird way and looked back at the liquors, shrugged and just threw out a drink from his memory. He didn’t even mold the memory to her. He molded it to some hooker the other night. Probably not but that’s what my rationale of him working for me said.

Speaking of laughs being weird. On absinthe kill roomies night I kept hearing her laugh as though it was crying. Without the fine motor jostle of air breaking it literally sounding like someone crying. It happened multiple times. I also know she’s “crazy” and gets in fights often. She eats so many cupcakes.

So food. I haven’t talked about it as much lately, because it’s just the same thing over and over. I can tell it fucks with minds and I get kind of sad, but I reached so much pain towards it and humabnity that I literally adapted out of it. I simply see it and see numbers. The world is just a bit doomed or its not, and I’ve accepted it either way. I suppose that’s just it. I’ve accepted it. The world will happen, and I’ll do McSuicide to try and save it…but I suppose I reached that point that old people do. I don’t want to force it.

I still talk about it to people, but casually. I even did last night during the wine. My new friend was talking about food at some point and I got excited and showed her my blog. I liked merging our lives together. Oddly, and I do mean very oddly because I usually say “Well this is my food blog (MLM), but the blog I really care about is this one, and I show them Box of Chocolates. Last night I just showed the food one, had a connection memory to tell her of this one, but it faded. I didn’t want to. Not sure why…but I just wanted to be in that moment and that one thing. It wasn’t a rejection of this, but moreso an embrace of MLM. When showing it to her I realized I felt some unhappiness melt away. Some lack of love. I haven’t been giving MLM love. I just show it and then show them my true love, you. Last night. I finally felt love for Mind Lifting Mouthgasms. For some reason it has been far more attached to stress. Okay the reason is clear. People fight me more on it. I get told people don’t like pictures, they don’t like wording etc. I also know it needs a meal plan, it needs…more. Always.

This place is just real. It just is. It’s everything I want it to be. Sometimes I’ll know it needs drawings or cartoons and feel some stress, but I so easily come back to it and can give rough drafts. I have full control, and I feel I know this place more. I know what I want from it and it knows me.

I have no fucking clue what I’m doing with Mind Lifting Mouthgasms. Where to bring it? What meal plans to do and how much could it matter? I look at it through a critic’s eyes rather than any love rose ones. I miss the love ones for it. It started with love…now I look at every post and shudder away. Even now I’m planning to go to Cedar Plank after typing this because I looked at posts and my mind said I had to fix them. It said bad and freaked out over the cauliflower mash. People are looking at it and it’s way too flowery. It’s barely about the food and I even talk about gas escaping me.

It’s a reanalysis of yesterday where someone did say I go to ‘off’ into creativity (different phrasing) with my 150 post. They were kind, in my version of reality though. Someone said ‘the views it deserves’ when he was talking about having to leave the post due to formatting. He actually really helped me ‘see’ that the post did need some cleaning up. Haha I even told him so. Here, just, go look at it.

So I made a new friend at the coffee shop, we met again at Saddle Club around 6:30, which is when we planned to meet upon leaving each other at Cedar Plank Coffee. “Amy? Does tonight still work?” “Yeah, yeah. What time works for you guys?” *exchange eye contact with Vince“Not really sure yet, we’ve got some moving to do.” “Well I have to do a work out.” “Okay, we generally go around five or six.” “Oh…my workout usually goes a bit later. Around six thirty.” *her voice sounds defeated, as though it suddenly won’t work out* “That works. We usually stay late anyway so just meet us there after.” “Oh Okay”. Her voice lifts with both words, as though excitedly unexpected.

It happens.

We wind up talking a while. She says that she really likes me and they both call me beautiful after we get into our lives and I tell them about when I didn’t have confidence. I even tell them playground rejection story after she tells us about her deep one. Yeah she’s been fucked all over by this town’s people. She even came here and dated someone that immediately stabbed her in the back and mocked her throughout the town. She’s got some deep pain but she’s beautiful. She was relaxed around us but the moment other friends came up she laughed too much and tripped over words to the point she was a wannabe sorority girl if you just looked at her outer packaging.

I was shocked.

It was this direct change. I told her it happened and told her it made sense with what happened, but that she was amazing and didn’t have to be that way. I told her she was incredible and the world needed to know it. It did know it. Don’t let those people regress you.

I boomed up some confidence in this woman. Then I told her how I cured my anxiety and that it really is a bodily reaction. I asked if she’s let me do a meal plan for her. It would just basically be meat, eggs, and butter “I love those things” “Awesome” , “and tortillas” “No. We cut those out. Those fuck with you.” Her face got sad. “It will be okay. I promise. You don’t need them.” *sad face* “okay.”

So the night moved to Century Grill which we needed to go to for Vince. His friends were there. More than that he’s been banned from there since he shot someone. Walked in one day and the guy said he couldn’t have him in there until the charges were cleared. Vince told us about this at Saddle Club and we all agreed it was shit. So he had shots, we were happy and free, more than that he needed it. He needed to go and not be stuck in this idea that the town was watching, all he is is a man that shot a man, he needed that release of himself.

We went, they were closing, he shook the hand of the bartender with confidence and I knew it shattered into him in the best of reality’s ways.

*pause story and thinks of Jeffrey and wonders if it will hurt him if he reads this and sees the love above. I consider posting it tomorrow, once he’s here instead…I want him to come so badly. My mind tried to form a lie though. He hates that I’m attached to this false sense of love. He doesn’t believe in it…I barely believe it myself, but it keeps me from him. I want him to be happy…even with me. Just…not in a forever way. I would just hurt him. I also would be with another in truth. Not until I figure all of this out can I move on from it*

So we leave Century and go shoot pool at Railroad Blues. I love that place too. Mostly because the only other night I had there was with a fantastic band, they even had a cello (my favorite instrument) and the girl had this high pitched melody of seduction that brought the place into serious life. There were no zombies that night.

Seriously though this town and Marfa feeds zombies and they take everyone. The amount of people on drugs…I’m going to tell Maloney about it for a study. It needs to be done. The fact I could get coke within a week and I hear that’s how it always is (from Aimee yesterday). Also the amount of murders is high. I asked more about them and it does tend to involve drunk people. Apparently in Terlingua mostly. “It’s where they go for standoffs…with the guns” “Mexican standoffs!”

We play pool and talk about our lives. We talk about each other. We talk about Aimee and the guy from the coffee shop. He’s come into conversation a lot through the night.

She talks about how she likes the pace of it. He goes to the gym and they’ve only exchanged head nods and said Hi a couple of times. He was even in the spa yesterday and she went in, said sorry “Why did you say that?!” She didn’t answer and the conversation changed (this was at Saddle Club). We get more into it and she really does like this man. She’s going to talk to him today. They’re both Mass Com majors “Just ask him his favorite documentaries! You already have so many conversations!” “Yeah, Yeah, you’re right.” *insert her smile in your imagination*

They get a couple of beers there and I have double Jager and water. Vince left minutes before “Can I just get Jager and a water?” “Sure thing.”

He comes back with beers and a glass of brown water. “I meant separate. Haha this works though.” It was actually really good. I might take it on as a new bar drink.

Sigh…I really want Justin still. He has to clean up.

So we move on from Blues and go to his place to meet up with more people. “You have to meet What’s her Face! She has the best face.”

Vince pulls me aside once we get there. “Shhh….but I think this could be a threesome.’ “Really now? With who?” “Us and Aimee.” “Oooohhhh. Cool. I see it.”

We play pool and I say I’ll watch and randomly shoot. I go to the fridge, dig around, find a box with bacon in it and there’s no going back. I pull out eggs and set them in a wam bowl of water and pull out six strips of happiness and put them in the cast iron. No. Cares. About quality. It works. Says my mind. It’s bacon. Another voice tries to come in about hormones and freaks out more at the eggs.


We eat bacon and eggs.

Well I make bacon, she comes over, says she loves to cook. I’m still flipping it’s beginning stages with my hands and licking off the grease.

Oh something weird happened at Saddle Club. We were getting on just fine, steady flow of words, and she put a napkin on her plate. I said, “ohhhh wait. You’re not wasting that meat are you.” “Oh. Do you want it?” “Yeah I do.” I remove the napkin and eat the leftover meat. Her voice changes a bit. I really wish I could tell you how exactly. More…sharp or harsh, like I pulled up some..kind of judgement but different. Definitely some memory of something. Her comfort did fade some, and I tried to bring it back quickly by asking of her life and laughing some. I wonder if I subconsciously was trying to pull the memory up.

We talked about how I loved the fatty parts of meat, they were the best. She didn’t. We talked about food more and we faded back into each other.

Huh. Still wonder what it was.

So we’re at the house and she gets a spatula and tends to the bacon. She asks me how I like mine and I say “barely cooked” and I learn she likes hers crispy. We share bacon and I still remember those eggs hitting the pan and watching the white come right in. God I was in food heaven and she was my angel. My memories soaked themselves into me and said that was it “that’s what we want. That’s what we know” complete comfort soakings of reality assessment as my whole brain and body merged memories into that fucksation of a present moment. I was with new friends, eating my favorite food and enjoying the fuck out of life.

We play pool before the others arrive and talk about the restaurant. We talk about her joining us. I change my being. I get serious. I get her to sell herself to me.

“I could go and talk to people.”

“Hmmm. Well.” *My mind searches itself* “Could you coordinate kombucha, wine, and other tastings for me?” I pause. “Wait.” “That’s the part I want to do.’” No no, I get it! It’s your baby!” I pause and mindsearch again, easing into it. “Yeah…but if you could take 75% of that I could do other things.” I nod as my body acknowledges it likes this.

“Okay. ….Okay…sell me.”

“what is it for? The kombucha?” Her voice and being merge into professional reality. “Okay so you know how to talk to people?” “Yes! I’m good at that.” I hug her

“You could take on my greatest worry.”

We laugh. We’re happy.

“Alright. So. Let’s go over here.”

“How would you present it to them?”

“Well I would tell them about us. What are we about.”

“Well we’re called Seven. We’ve been working on it a while” I look to Vince as he comes out of the bathroom and he moves faster to join us, knowing he’s a part of it, loving that he is.

“I love that number.”

“Yeah, yeah, we do too” my words rush to move that conversation along into the more of it.

“In a world where there’s so many diets that separate people” I pause into the muse of that, gauging her.

“That’s so true!”

“Yeah! Yeah, and we want to bring them all together. I’m going to have a menu with every diet on it, and ..and…” I get so lost and sway into the idea. Smiling and letting it merge into our reality with words, my favorite of mediums…well but for writing.

“So we are even going to have this coffee shop in the day, with coconut milk and other things

“Flavored waters? We could do herb waters?!”

My eyes light up as she becomes this gorgeous fantasy I merge into my reality.

How bliss.

How wonderful.

How could she say the very thing I could only wish for her to say. More than wish. It was … it was everything I couldn’t know I wanted.

The people that hear of this and want in on it so desperately. Vince. Aimee. Everyone I even talk about it too. I get more and more scared the more real it gets.

Not fully sure why…suppose I care. Too much. Already.

And it takes me away from neuroscience…the dream that already keeps feeling fake.

Aimee’s in.

The night goes on. To a spot I like less. It’s why I almost ended the story there. We talk politics. One man comes in, he’s drunk, the others all arrive. The girl arrives that’s supposed to be gorgeous and incredible. She’s tall and disappointing with acne and a bore to me. Aggressive, unhappy..sigh. I want to find people I love. That I want to aspire to be like. That I don’t have to provoke life out of.

I love Aimee and Vince though, just not a lot of others here. Oh wait and Rachel, she just gets on too much caffeine and can’t ‘feel’ as much as I would love. Moments I’ll get to seep into her and feel this affection for each other, but usually she’s distant, like her mind is caught in her limbic 😉

I don’t mind except that I do.

Well the drunk man goes on about Niggers, loudly, taking his money, He talks about how much he makes and how much they take and how he had to earn his education and they just get the money and waste it. I laugh.

“hahahaha. I think you’re blaming the niggers for your reality.”

He pauses. He likes me.

“No no no. Did you know I paid for my college? They get grants and then just throw it away.”

“What the fuck? You can’t put them all in that category. You’re seriously projecting man.”

Conversation goes more and more about politics and money.

“Vince. I’m done. I’m going to bed.”

I do.

He joins later, we cuddle, he tries to move futher and I tell him I can’t. He’s awoken me, but I’m still in absinthe and there’s no readjustment of reality. I say what’s there. “I just want sleep. It’s way too late. It’s like four hours past my bedtime.” Okay okay.

They keep being loud.

“Fuck. Can we go to your place?”

“Yeah…yeah we could. *he pauses and muses* We have to go out the window though.”

“Okay. Wait. What? Why?”

“Because I’m Vince. I have a persona to maintain.”

“Fine. Fine.” My mind doesn’t care, it’s just a window and I just want sleep.

“You also have to drive.” “Definitely.”

We climb out the window after getting dressed and hearing Aimee. “What about Aimee? I hate leaving her here.” Goes Vince.

“She’s fine. She needs this.” I hear her and hear her laugh, she’s getting accepted into an Alpine crowd. I’m not taking her away from that. She doesn’t need to be.

We climb out the window.

“Wait fuck. I forgot the weed.”


“Yeah yeah I have to go get it.”


Ruins the point of going out the window, I think.

I hear him go back through the window. He returns with the bag.

We drive off.

“Fuck. I forgot the paper.”

“Haha. So we can’t even smoke?”

“No no we can. We just need to get cigarettes. Pull into the Stripes.”

We get there and I pull in and get him the second best cigarettes for the $6 of cash he could find and we roll away to his place.

We get the heater on and I pass the flip out, almost.

He goes for things again.


My words are functioning with the essence of me, that’s about it.

“I’m in love with someone else.

You see. I’ve met my twin flame.”

“Oh.” He rolls off. “That hurts.”

I’m a bit shocked, realizing he felt more to this than I thought.

“I’m sorry.”

“No no. It’s okay.”

I stroke his arm some and fall to sleep.

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