chasing stars

He only comes out once a month.  The brightest star graces the sky.  But only for one midnight.  He is dangerous.  Cancerous.

With bright blue eyes and a past.  He walks with heavy steps and tries to hide it.

It’s obvious.  But she doesn’t care.

You are the memory I never want to




It’s midnight a month later.  A month hath passed since that fateful night.  And not a bit has changed.  Yet everything has changed.


A shower.

A proposition.


A statement.

“I don’t want it to be a one night stand.”

“Let’s see what happens and that shall determine the later.”


he said, in words near and unspoken.

“Do you have a long coat?”

“I do.”

“Wear it.  Do you have lingerie?  Wear something nice underneath for when you greet me at the door.”

I rushed to my bathroom.  I scrubbed my shower meticulously.

I ransacked my drawers looking for them:


Fishnet thigh high stockings

the bitty mesh halter brassiere with cherry blossom embroiderments

the sash to wrap around my waistline of the long black peacoat.

I wanted to look of perfection.  Of as much as I could without pushing it.

“I’m outside.”

I wasn’t shivering just because I was cold.





The wind blew across my ass as I raced outside.  The jacket was shorter than I’d remembered.

I tiptoed through the cobblestone courtyard holding back the schoolgirl giggling.

“Shh!” I whispered as I grabbed the tips of his fingers and escorted him back to my apartment.

I didn’t give him the chance to stare.  I forfeited that moment in the moonlight for another.

I wasn’t shivering just because I was cold.

I was to be his present.

He looked me over.  I lowered my head as he untied the sash.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any lingerie?”

“Was that you complaining?”

“Not at all.” he said.

I turned around as he…

I wasn’t shivering just because I was cold.

One midnight a month on the anniversary of the day…

a star comes out…

to frolic and play.

You are the memory I never want to




I was nervous last night because I was afraid if you touched me…

when you touched me…

that it’d only reaffirm what I already knew.

I something thee.

My fantasy.

My” star.


He: what is that? (motioning to the star drawn on the palm of my hand)

Me: It’s a star I caught one night.

He: When was that?

Me: Oh, awhile ago.

The sun’s come up and I have to go.  But I wish you didn’t have to.  I wish I didn’t have to.

You asked me to promise not to ____.

But… I… But you…

Me: I’m beginning to think you can never really catch a star.

Him: No, You really can’t.

And now I just want to join you and wish this dream… this train doesn’t stop.

I really hope this isn’t the end of the line.

Muse for Hire

An awakening occured that morning.  It set forth a fire that burned for 3 glorious days.  The muse had found her muse.

Once upon a time, on Valentines day, a muse found her muse..

But like all tragic love stories, despite the perfect timing it initially had, it wasn’t the right time.

It may never be the right time.

But that’s not going to stop her.

This Veruca Salt became determined to hold onto that rareity. She needed to learn patience. And so she turned to an old legend…

There is a legend far older and magical than the story most commonly associated with it. It is, in some ways, the same story.

In Japan after the bomb dropped in Hiroshima, there was a little girl named Sadako.  She got leukemia from the radiation, and laid in a hospital to die.

It is said that if you make a 1000 paper cranes that you will be granted one wish.

She wished to live.  Sadly, she died before she was able to accomplish it.    However she will always live on through the story.

I too have a wish.

That upon completion I would be reunited with my muse.

I’ve learned that I’ve been too much of a “Veruca Salt” of sorts.  I’m prone to being spoiled and unappreciative.  I dread standing in lines.  I tend to read the last few pages of books before reading the rest of them.

In a nutshell, I suck at patience.  Particularly when it comes to a relationship of any sort, albeit friend or otherwise.

As I’ve grown older, I’d like to think that I’m getting better at it.

This is the work in progress of the journey to my muse and the paths it takes me on.

This is the story of the girl and her quest to create.
Because some things are worth fighting for.
Because some things are worth wishing for.
Because sometimes wishes may actually come true in real life.

I will be posting bits and pieces of the documentary while it is in the progress.  I also started a twitter devoted specificially for this project.

It is the start of many to come, and will all be hosted on my main site for that: just as soon as I can possibly get it in order.

I appreciate your patience so much.

Here’s a video of my pathetic attempt to make the first crane.

Little white lies

I was raving about you yesterday to a friend.  She wanted to know all about you.  I told her you were everything that I thought I wanted.  There had been this moment.. carnal and animalistic, where we first saw eachother and I knew I just had to have you.  We caught eyes.  He locked on and kept walking, never faltering with his stare.  I was his prey.

And then I got to know more about you.  I was intriqued by you.  Every facet of you seemed to entice me more and more the more I found out.







Imaginative and childlike.

A man, but still a boy.

And then I met someone different.  I met ~L.

He once wrote me (back in those 3 glorious days that were ours once upon a time):

“As I see your time as valuable and your hands with which you hold the mightier as future artifacts, forgo spending your time with boys. Valor, chivalry and romanticism can best be found in a man. Perhaps I am mincing words, but having spent most of my life as a “boy,” I can feel the difference.”

But this panther, I thought.. I was blinded by as it turned out.  He wasn’t all that I wanted.  He was a facade.

I went out with the panther the day after my magical night with ~L.  For reasons unknown, I said to myself, if I had to choose between the two of them right now, I think I’d…

The panther was a boy.  Childish and imaginative alright.  But not the man I made him to be in my mind.  I needed to experience last night’s moment before I was finally able to accept it.  It was something I’d already known though.

He’d said he wasn’t over his ex girlfriend.  He’d broken up with her around the same time I’d parted ways with the grip.  We’d gone to have drinks with my best friend, and come back to play video games and talked until 6:30 am.  That was Friday night.

Sunday we went out to a movie.  Which turned into “Surprise my roommate and his girlfriend are there holding our seats.”  Followed by dinner.  If that wasn’t a double date, well then I’m  boggled.

The encounters like this only continued to get further romantic in nature, although never physically romantic at all.

We went on a walk through Venice.  Through alleyways of magic and lights, arm and arm.  We made flirty remarks to eachother.  Told stories about our lives.  Poured our hearts out.

I did it because I thought I felt comfortable with you.  I thought that you were genuine.  Now I don’t know.

Yesterday I was talking to a friend about you.  I showed her your picture.  She said…

Oh no.  We were… about a month ago.

For about that same time, you were telling me you weren’t over your ex.  I believed you.  I remained friends because I adored you.  I wanted to be a part of your life.  But now I don’t know what to do.  I don’t know what to say.

A little white lie?

A huge white lie.


I’m glad that I found out, what apparently I already knew.  ~L. is completely right.  I’ve spent too much time on boys, not nearly men.  And now I just wish… and continue to fold my cranes.

Letters to ~L. :Undone


You texted me asking me what is one thing that I would undo if I could.  I never answered.

Here it is:

  • I wouldn’t have texted you those few times after that initial date.
  • I would have waited.

I would have been more patient.

I should have been more patient.

But now I know better now sir.

I’m making up for it.

I’m doing my penance.

I’m going to make it right.

Because some people want a second chance, I just want a first.

When we’re ready.

If we’re ready.

If at all.

Scratch that.

I guess I wouldn’t really undo it.

Thank you for inspiring me to make the greatest journey I’ve ever gone on.

Where the path leads us?

  • Separate
  • or together
  • or separate and then together
  • or separate and then still separate…

I guess it really doesn’t does matter.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you sir one letter consonant.



The man/sir part 1

I broke a rule.

I got caught up in the daydreams.. that they became real as you did last night.

Sometime around midnight, after days and days.

“If we asked someone around us how long they think we’ve known each other, do you think any of them would get it right?”

He asked so many questions.  Like a child, forever eager to find out more.  His mind, a sponge.   Her eyes but a window to a soul far deeper than anyone (not even her) would ever really know.

They spoke in another language.  In so many words and then.. the silence. Perhaps that is what the lesson of the moment is.. to covet those moments of not knowing.  For if you only listen to the wind and the sea rushing to the shore, you will learn every secret the world has to offer.

It takes but a milisecond for change to grace.

He came into my existence like a hawk.

A hunter.

That I may be his prey.

He’d sent me a message earlier.

A half dozen letters were written back and forth.

A galla of texts to proceed thereafter.

They cherished this world of written words not to be belittled in the sterile composition of serifed format.

Their minds raced to be together.  And for moments encased in time they were with nary a care in the world to overcome them.

Moments of acceptance.

Of perfection and completion with their imperfections.

“Why did you do that in there?” I asked him about that first kiss.

He said “It was just a kiss.”

But in their eyes.. and in that silent still she knew it couldn’t be true. Or it shouldn’t be true.

He looked at her and said “Some things do not need answers.”

Perhaps the answers were already there right in front of them as the rest of the world blurred.

For three days I was graced by this phantom.

Three unbelievable days.

And one withstanding night.

“You remind me of someone I can’t remember.”

Yes indeed sir. Yes indeed.  And I will always remember you.  Forever this way, regardless what happens… I will greet thine encore with open arms if ye ever choose to return.