Designated Doodler

I thought of if I were to run into you on campus. I imagined that you would ask me if I disliked you, if I hated you. And I would say "no, I don't." I think it's sad actually. I doubt you'd even pose the question I imagined, because you are more likely to be wrapped up in yourself than any inquiry into another. You're a douchebag. Which, ironically enough, was my initial impression of you four years ago. You make it your "mission" to fight the norm, to break away from the mundane traditional. Yet, you're the very embodiment of it. Far from unique. Just another power hungry man who gets high off of having authority, who can't handle being challenged. Just another man with thinly veiled anger issues. Just another man who pretends to care about others, but doesn't. Just another man who wants to be the "cool kid on campus," when that desire is the very thing that makes you pathetic.  You want to buck the system, bu

I remember that exact moment so well. Sitting down at my new desk in my new room at my new house with my first piece of homework. It was English, it was easy, and I was more than ready to escape the relentless desert-scape that was the panhandle of Texas. One of my Dad's old coworkers used to say that Borger wasn't hell, but you could see it from there. Houston felt like a new start. I had painted my room with my mom before we had even moved into the house. The room was blank and in the dim evening light as we worked it transformed into a beautiful light blue. I remember lying down to go to sleep on one of those first weeks spent in the house, thinking to myself, this is the room you're going to grow up in. And it would be. It was the room where I celebrated my 13th birthday, the room where I spent my time watching JAG, building model airplanes and teaching myself how to draw. It's where I read my favorite book for the very first time. It's where I cri

The Reese's in the vending machine at work are always melted. Their chocolate bottoms stick to the coffee colored paper wrapper, and peel off completely, revealing squishy, sandy brown, peanut butter flesh. Instead of a neat circle, the chocolate folds up on two sides, Like the face of a child getting squished by an overbearing aunt. It tastes gritty. Like there isn't enough chocolate and the peanut butter conceals grains of sand. 75 cents and 250 calories later, here I am. Holding the atrociously bright orange wrapper, flapped open, in my hand. I take the two hollow skeleton cups and shove them inside. The wrapper doesn't quite "crackle" but it "crinkles" like the laugh plastic would make if it were able to laugh. I careen off my armless desk chair and toss it into the space between my hand and the abyss of the trash can. Naturally it misses and lands on the floor. That's what you get when the pilots of a vessel are two hollow skeleton cu

It came as a surprise That my most ticklish spot Is my hands I discovered it at work While lost in thought As languid fingers traced a map On my palm Where ridges rise and fall Like crests and troughs And in the blazing wake of exploring fingers is a burning trail That aches and tickles In a sweet discomfort I traced the outline of my hand Until I reached the borders of the sensation losing the electricity the shaking vibration that races at the surface Pulled from somewhere mysterious in me It's a warm, sweet tickle That starts at the palm and turns to a hearty laugh as it edges from my thumb It lights up where my fingers join my hand Quiets at the stalks of them And breaks out again but ceases at my finger tips Where my thumb faces my fingers The tickle is dead It lives on the outer side of the digit instead And a curious swipe along the back of each finger reveals a nervous shout of tingles Along the skin so pale that culminates in a synapses' kiss just before reaching

Firstly, I do not own or claim to own anything Star Trek. This is just a fanfic from an admiring fan...as well as an admittance to the general public that I'm a total and complete Trekkie nerd now...and I love it. PS I painted this as well... PS please don't steal my writing or atwork, that's not very cool. K thanks, enjoy! -------- Spock's eyebrows knitted together in concern. His heart flew in his side, a furious crimson red crept into the corners of his vision. Get the captain back.  Replayed over and over in Spock's head like a mantra. He stood on the bridge as acting captain, staring at the massive screen in front of him. The window for gazing out upon uncharted worlds, now a communication conference with an alien terrorist. "You have insulted us with your terms Mr. Spock," the voice was dark and gravelly. "They were not my terms Mr. Valglad, they were Star Fleet's terms. We are simply here..." "I know exactly

Life is full of ups and downs, these are the ups. Welcome to the family C.C. Man, it'll be hard to miss this bright blue on the road. While not enamored with the Ford dealer, the end result was worth it.  Because I have somehow managed to become a full-blown Trekkie...I used my art skills for the power of good and painted Spock (Zachary Quinto), and then the next day painted Kirk (Chris Pine). Both paintings were started and finished in the same weekend :D   Finding out that you're getting published never gets old. I can't believe that one of the poems I wrote for this very blog is ending up in a book :D Painting plates never gets old. Seeing the finished product is always worth the hours spent meticulously painting small details. I got this message literally today. I've never had a review make me feel so fantastic.  Man, I love to write <3 p=""> What a great trip. IKEA ca

You say what you want to, Take what you want to, Pull affection in , And break it when you want to. A master of masks In each disguise you bask The hot breath collects Beneath smooth plastic And sweet words wind and fall like a hymn From lips so caustic. You bend and twist those around you, Those who've found you. You mold every interaction Exactly how you wish Until it resembles a reality That feeds your satisfaction But if I press where it's bruised, If I twist where you turn, Using words like mace, Pushing you to lose, throwing fuel on the flames where it already burns, Through the light of heated fire... I can see into your naked face No bullshit crafted from fine plastic Just a rich and pungent fury That belies your nature, so drastic That to watch you for too long is purely tragic

As a child I had straight (albeit wavy) hair. There isn't a single photo of me as a child with curly hair, because I didn't have it! I loved my hair! It was great! And then it went curly when I was like…11? And I when I say curly, I mean CURLY. Not to mention I have enough head on my hair for two people (easy). No seriously…sometimes hairdressers up the charge, or charge me double because I have so much hair. So you get the picture…I have a lot of curly hair. The odd thing is…I get treated TOTALLY different when I straighten my hair (which takes about 3 hours). By the time I got to college, my hair relaxed to a mildly manageable point and I began to get Keratin treatments and straighten it. I noticed immediately a jarring difference in how I was perceived and treated. People thought I was older when my hair was straight. Not to mention, they paid more attention to me! When my hair was curly, people perceived me to be younger and "nerdy." I was treated

Finding the right medication for General Anxiety Disorder (GAD) is like playing Russian roulette. If you haven't surmised this yet...your doctor has no idea what's going to work for you and what won't. They can't forsee the side effects that you'll be sensitive to or the outcome of the medication for you in the long run. And knowing anxious souls...looking up medications (and their side effects) online is disastrous. If you've reached the conclusion that you need medication, you have to keep searching for that perfect medication, with the realization that it may not exist, all the while living your daily life. Medication can take a couple months to take effect and coming off of medication can be...challenging to say the least. I've experienced coming off of Lexapro. It was a terrifying experience that occured in college. And you can't exactly explain to others around you that you're acting totally...weird...because you're coming off o