#42 (not the reason but a reason)

It irritates me that as much as we talk about how important it is for us to support each other, he still doesn't. Our relationship is still one sided on so many levels. And yet he'll sit an wonder how it is I get to the point where I just don't want to be around him. He constantly wonders where the resentment comes from causing me to believe I'd rather do this alone than with him, because to me either way its the same shit. Daily I come home to a house that's not mine, yet I support it financially and physically and get nothing but blank stares of misunderstanding when its clear I need to get some rest. I get looked at sideways for expressing my pain whether vocally, subliminally, or privately in my writings. So I don't write. I hold back my frustrations with a damn that is way past its breaking point. And so it continues. The waters remain still because I swallow what it is I want to be screaming it from the rooftops.

It makes me wonder if this is what womanhood really is. Submission through the defeat of one's will power.
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#20

He's right about one thing, we did have it. That thing that bonds people together, a connection on the deepest levels of beings, what some call love has turned to slow torture through attempts to reclaim what once was true love. Despite the path it took to gain it, to make the neural connections to process the thought, we had it.
And its that one thing that got me tripping. Because there were imaginary lines drawn & crossed. Boundaries never truly established but unconsciously acknowledged and consciously forgotten. Like an invasion of enemy troops, my lines fell back till there was nothing between us but barriers. Barriers that held, & still stand strong defending the fragility of my heart.
The gift of love, each time delivered is accepted with the suspicions of a trojan horse. No longer blinded by the delusions and hopes of loves spell.. Now I see with eyes wide open the man separate from the father. If ever again they become one, only time will tell.
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#18(Venus) [draft]

I don't know what it is but
I can't put it down
Within the word written
I feel a connection,
to something bigger than us
Divine inspiration
Perhaps we were muses in a past life
Or nymph
I feel universes within you
There's more to this book than just the cover
I want to
Read on

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#16 (My Scarlet Letter)

Worse than anything I hate is when I am made to feel that I am crazy. I hate it when people make me look & sound like a liar because they don't want to believe the truth. And because I lied ONE time, I am now branded forever with it on my forehead. Everything you don't want to believe becomes a lie. My actions become sneaky even though they are honest & just spontaneous. It just makes me see where I stand for real. Where I am I will never again be free without distance. I will always be seen as a lying. & adulterous because its what you want to believe. And so with that I give up. I'll do what ever her wants. Cause I'm not playing any games and I'm tired of trying to love someone who never existed in your eyes. I'm tired of trying to heal her. So if you ever catch a glimpse of her again, tell her I said bye.
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#9

"I am trying to become who I would've been without you because I hate who I am because of you"
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#5 (live your life)

I am afraid that I have found the truth about myself but am just scared to admit to it. Because I am in conflict internally. What I was raised to believe and emulate is not what I have determined to be right for me.
I guess that's a major part of this final movement into adulthood. And there is the likelihood of my decisions being a contradiction to who I claim to be. But I make no promises, and therefore should be okay.
I choose the path of wisdom & pain over ignorant bliss any & everyday.. Because life I find, is too long for me not to know more. And sometimes pleasure/bliss can spring from pain. Pain passes over time, fades away until there is nothing left but perfection.
I'm terrified to leave what it is I thought I knew. A lie, a life of comfort. But to feel something is better than nothing. To aspire for impossible dreams is better than shuffling through a haze of disappointment. I don't want to constantly see failure in my reflection. Unhappiness, a secret smile hidden beneath layers of worry, stress, & sorrow. I want to be free spiritually & emotionally yet still honor my responsibilities as a woman to myself and others.
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#6

Today is one of those days where if I had crossed the street I would have prayed to have been hit by a truck. The bigger the better. Honestly I hate days off because its never a real day off, its just more work. And there are days lie this, where I wake up feeling worse than loose bowels. More like road kill and less than human.
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Fwd: #3

---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: Joi <cjoiadams@gmail.com>
Date: Sat, Oct 23, 2010 at 2:42 AM
Subject: #3
To: Mobil blogging <cjoisanchez.damaged@blogspot.com>


Right now my shit is playin' not even any particular song comes top mind, just a genre of music comes my way. And my hips want to move, I want to shake the body I was bessed with and be one with da rydem.m the rhyme with words that rhyme...
She is the key, the rhyme and the reason, I understand that I feel outcasted only when I make myself so.... So why perpetuate that which is simultaneously natural.. I feel as if I belong, as I the deams I have are possibly,: as if I were to lose myself on a dance floor, float away and be recognized bythe dances looking up with hands up and eyes closed, giving birth to the most high for another day full of opportunity upon this earth.. Fuck this I gotta dance.. And pee
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Starting Over

For year I've been caught up in the idea of writing a book, but I wasn't until last year where I had the genius idea of piecing together the random thoughts I express daily into a real story. And so I began collecting whatever came into my head via voice notes & memos. Finally I was making the most out of my "smart" phone. Unfortunately for me, the not so smart user, I forgot to back up any of these things. I also saved nothing to my SIM card. So like my hair, my book will now have to start again fresh. Perhaps its serendipitous in the timing; I may just be an idiot savant.
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#47

He asks what it is I really want, with tear stained skin he gazes at me, my heart skips a beat... and my brain pauses. Breathing stops.
i remember what we were talking about.. what I want. . .
What I want is a life defined by no one but me. I want to live outside the boxes designed, defined, and designated by society.
I want to be the independent, free-spirited, spit fire, rapid tongued, no nonsense type of woman I was raised to be.
The type that uses her mind and not her heart to male those serious, life altering decisions I should have already made by now. I want to be the type of woman that years from now makes her daughter proud to want to e like. I want to be someone who loves and honors herself and the responsibilities she carries. I want to be more than what is expected of me. 
I want to be able to express how i feel in real life, with more than action...
I want to live an honest life. I want to not be the cause of your troubles, your pain, your tears, i want to not be the reason that you are stuck here in this moment of life. I want to not be your excuse, your reason for holding yourself back. I want to not confuse you.
I want to not want anything more than what I have.