I Miss People

I’m not speaking about certain individuals like a lost love or the fatality of friends

I mean the sincerity of strangers threaded throughout our thumbprints

Those unsung spirits

Heroines and heroes sans egos but with in-erasable emotions

I miss someone wearing their heart on their sleeves and instead of shooing them away, I would roll mine up in turn and say,

Let’s see how we can work with this


But instead, I work to brighten the smiles of people on a screen

Chained to a desk, the only heartbeat I feel is the pulsing of the mouse underneath my hand

The only connections I see are through a glass screen into a false reality

I miss hellos that led to handshakes and handshakes that end in leaving hugs, and all of that spectacular serendipity of connectivity in between


Give me a dive bar where I may go swimming in the hearts of man

Unchain me from the chain restaurants that source their livelihood from the masses

Give me someone local and lean, whose meat is juicy like their stories.


It’s no wonder that en entire generation of people connecting online oftentimes feel themselves a little bit disconnected

A poke is a joke and a like is like a fleeting lark

Momentarily engaging but all of this social interaction is ultimately leading to absolute isolation

And there is no sharing in the longevity of loneliness


While we spend hours cramming the best parts of ourselves onto the Internet

We’re leaving the focal point of ourselves back in fundamental fibers

Those beautiful inconsistencies of humans

That recognition of a counterpoint in another soul

But instead we counter online arguments

Facebook battle war zones littered with text instead of empty bullet casings

Fueling the hate with blank boxes of ammunition

Igniting fires we are trying so desperately to escape within ourselves

Reignited by the artificial flames of the media and the ‘other’


Even the tinder we have today cannot seem to spark because it will never be able to match that feeling of going weak in the knees

LOL no longer an abbreviation but a code of letters standing for the idea of laughter

But there’s not shortening like the shortness of breath from laughing so hard you cannot stop

With Buzzfeed ringing in my ear like the banality of busy bee

I sit at my desk, my fingers type out messages I yearn to speak aloud

My eyes scan pictures I wish­­ to witness

My heart longs to experience it with humankind instead of the holograms of the herd


This petty poem will never placate the palpable nature of people

This pandering of the populous will never play out the way we planned it

Until we fight for the friendships we’ve forsaken for Facebook

Until we stop idolizing instant individuals.

Until we stop teetering on the text of tweets

We will remain in our attempts to recreate this rapturous reality we’ve tried so hard to replicate

Until the only thing that lingers are the hallowed hearts harboring hardened hardships

Ultimately pining away for that palpable perfection of people.



One vs The One

Since March, I’ve been conquering men in bars, both locally and internationally. While it was a fruitful summer with a multitude of good stories to tell for years to come, I had promised myself I would slow it down by the time fall and school rolled around.

And then I met someone (see Disasters in Dating). Someone I didn’t sleep with at first. Someone I like to actually hang out with because he doesn’t make me want to claw my eyes out from boredom. Oh and he’s cute. From henceforth, in all future forays with this boy, he shall be referred to as The Bartender.

I over-analyze everything. I mean everything. So while I was going through my one night stand phase, I analyzed everything in the days following a hook-up. Now that I’m dating someone, I still analyze everything and constantly wonder how I’m faring in the dating world. So far I can’t decide which option comes with more stress.

One Night Stands

One night of sweaty, somewhat intoxicated sex. The shared agreement to limiting the amount of knowledge about the other person. Due to that agreement, talking is usually limited to banal topics that you won’t really care about the other person knowing (ie: things that you would find on my Facebook if you creeped hard enough). The walk of shame in the morning. That weird moment where ya’ll can’t decide whether or not to spoon. The feeling of both achievement (if you bang a 10) and disappointment in your self-worth. The look that tells each other it’s on. Free drinks. The questions following the one nighter: Will he call me? Why wasn’t I worth waiting for? Why am I already horny again? What was his last name? Am I bad in bed? The aftermath includes wondering how many lies he told you to get into your pants, wishing you worked out more so those flabby bits weren’t as…well…flabby, and usually regret. Usually.


A tepid toe into the waters of getting to know each other. Dates where the conversation is foreplay, instead of a slap on the ass. Personality becomes a factor. A big one at that. Attraction can only go so far without an actual connection. Sex is steady, but isn’t dull. The feeling of constantly wanting to impress someone with your charm, wit, and appearance. The fear that they will find something out about you and immediately dump yo’ crazy ass. Seeing that look in their eye that lets you know they like you. Free drinks and free meals. The questions that follow: Will he call me? What do they think of me? Am I interesting enough to capture their attention? Am I the only one they are seeing? Do I really need to shave my legs againThe aftermath includes wondering how long you have to lie about not eating carbs, wishing you could stay and cuddle for hours (especially with the recent appearance of fall weather in Texas), and the knowledge that the more time you spend with that person is directly proportional to how much it’s going to hurt when you stop seeing each other.

Which is the lesser of two evils? I’m going to go with the one where spooning is non-optional…for now anyways.