Stomach Ache (draft)

Stomach Ache (draft)

I can't afford your love.
I can't afford for you to love me.
I can't bandage the bruises on my heart.
I would slice my chest,
peel back the layers of my hot skin like an onion.
Split my ribcage open like shelling a nut.
Serve you the wounded organ on china,
dripping my emotions, still steaming with my passion for you.

I can't afford your affection.
I can't afford to feel affection towards you.
I can't sew up my shattered emotions.
I would hammer my skull,
disassemble the puzzle of cracked bone.
Bleed my brain from its liquidy womb.
My most visceral offering, the tender meat of my gentle words,
whispering your name, still squirming with the anticipation of you.

I can't afford your truth.
I can't afford to be truthful with you.
I can't stanch the words my tongue bleeds.
I would rend my lips,
slit my gums like skinning a grape.
Wrench my teeth from their sockets.
Cleave the muscle from its fleshy mooring like an oyster,
twisting in my agony, still lapping up your attention.

I can't afford your love.
I can't afford your affection.
I can't afford your truth.
I can't (afford to) lose this.


(c) 2/1/2012

Brain Soup

Some random clips/(probably) fractured sentences/tangents from unfinished work:
OK I lied. The first one of part of a finished poem.

I'll let you catch me thinking.
You think I'm distracted my by own intelligence.
I'm really giving you the opportunity to study me,
unashamed.
...
You're not listening to what I say.
You're listening to the timbre of my voice.
--
Let me worship at the temple of your pain.
I can ruin you.
I can destroy your faith in love.
I have to create a mess to feel alive.
I have to break something to understand how it works.
I have to write my story in ink.
I have to bleed to feel clarity.
--
Let me steal a kiss.
Let me believe I'm stealing it.
--
I can't ruin this, but I can ruin you.
--
Your hands on the small of my back is all it takes
to remind me that I am not in control.
--
An excitement borne of the understanding that there are no boundaries, no rules yet.
Only unspoken questions demanding tangible, physical, immediate answers.
Speech is tangled, messy, wholly audible and at times unintelligible.
You find you possess both a tenderness and a violence you never imagined.
--
The metacarpophelangeal joint of the thumb is the sexiest part of the human hand.
So pronounced, so defined.
The tendons stand out on the backside of the hand like violin strings
when fists curl to grab sheets.
--
This is the good pain, the throbbing of blood through veins.
This is that dizzying high--my hands on your throat.
--
I try to hold back, I do.
I know my strength, and I know this isn't fair.
But I need to scar your delicate features,
to rip the sarcastic words from your tongue,
to redden these virginal sheets with the blood of my lust.
--
This was so much, too much.
Too close, too good, gasping too loudly,
and loving it too much to be embarrassed.
--
She didn't even expect to want me.
I didn't expect her to, either.
--
She commented that it was my fourth--fifth?--and I was still vertical. My only response was to pull her towards me with my free hand and push our mouths together. Somebody took the joint from her surprised fingers and before she realized what she was fully doing, those same fingers were under my jacket. Nobody paid us any mind. When our pot-sticky, smokey embrace ended she said she needed some fresh air, and a cigarette maybe even more. I lit her smoke and introduced myself.
--
I would say "yes" to anything she asked as long as her question was in the form of a kiss.
--
This is a dance, so lead on.

Where's my soapbox?

I commented to a friend today that I had gotten a chance to pick up a book again! (Finally, I could feel my IQ slipping.) I've been reading the Wheel of Time series by Robert Jordan on and off for a few years. It's a great series! Unless you can't handle massive amounts of detail -- which I love -- then don't read it in that case. Anyhow, there are too many things about it I like to list, but it brought me to that fact that I hadn't written anything in a while.

I love to write, I always have. I've been working on a book of my own, again for years. And as I've grown a lot has changed. The more I've read, especially in the fantasy genre, the more I've been able to identify cliches, etc. in my own writing. However, I got off on a tangent today about the female fantasy characters.

Let me clarify because "fantasy" is an awfully broad genre. I'm talking about Dungeons & Dragons, swords and magic type of fantasy. Questing stuff. Barbarians, ogres. You get the picture. So where are my strong, female leads swinging a sword? Now I've been reading this same WoT series for a while, so I'm assuming they're out there somewhere. But I haven't found them.

And I'm not talking barbarian chicks. I've encountered tons of female characters who are a deadshot with a bow and arrow, Birgitte from WoT and Catti-Brie from The Forgotten Realms just to name two. Now there are also plenty of sword-wielding females, but can't I have one who opts out of the dagger or the 2 lb. rapier to pick up something more substantial? If a dude can swing an 8 lb. great sword, so can a chick. I'm just sayin'.

Earwen (Arwen) came close in LoTR, but settled down with Finarfin...a dude.

I don't know if this is a stereotypical "the author's a man" case, or if some sort of "historical authenticity" is lost or what, but can I also please get a strong female lead who also loves women? Where's my gay medieval fantasy shit? We seem to have all of our other bases covered, why not this one too? Aaaannd, I don't want smut. Sorry, not interested. I just want characters like me in the books I read. I don't want my female characters running around with their boobs popping out. That doesn't make sense. I don't want them hiding behind their male counterparts or waiting to be saved. I want them in the middle of the battlefield, not waiting at the castle while the husband is getting all bloody.

And as much as I loved loved loved Moiraine in WoT (I refuse to believe she's dead), and loved loved loved Briza in Forgotten Realms, I'm tired of magic wielding women. How convenient that the bulk of the women are doing battle from the background. They're weapons are projectiles; they're not mixing it up with the bad guys, not face-to-face. My favorite moment with Moiraine was in the end of The Fires of Heaven when she actually, finally puts hands on Lanfear and drags her through the ter'angreal doorframe. Hands on. Finally. Balefire is really cool, don't get me wrong, but it added another dimension to Moiraine. It illustrated a different kind of strength of her character.

Moiraine Damodred, dwarfed by her Warder, Lan.

And as mentally strong as the Aes Sedai and Wise Ones (and others) are in WoT, as manipulative and scheming as they can be, as vast as their powers are, it still gets stale to read about them wielding the One Power and tying weaves...essentially just playing with magic. On a large scale, definitely, and to great devestation and death in some cases (especially the Forsaken), but still. We know Rand (the main male character) can use a sword AND the One Power.

Now I'm not quite halfway through the series, so who knows who else I'll encounter? There are so many characters that anything could happen. But with a core audience of straight men, I'm doubtful I'll find a character that makes me say, "Hey, that's me! I can relate to this person!"

At any rate, this is what I write. Strong, flawed, female characters who can pick up a sword or an axe, hone their inherent stamina and resistance to pain (Childbirth anyone? No really, they've done studies.), and get down and dirty with the men. And then go home, and get down and dirty with their women.

#9...#9...#9...

Sometimes, we have to change to simply avoid becoming stagnant. I like to learn new things, and I need a change in my life if I'm going to stay sane & keep my wife sane.

I hate school.

Can't I just go, learn some cool stuff, and get a diploma? I like too many things to concentrate on one program. I like art (illustration), woodworking & carving, writing, the english language, grammar, poetry, food, firefighting, fighting, nature (!).

I took Soils & Vegetation at CCSU my freshman year. It was a great class, if a little dry. I did my final paper on Black Walnut Blight.

If I have to take another Freshman Composition class I'll stab myself in the eye with my #2 pencil.

If I could stick with Creative Writing past the Intro classes I think I'd be fine. The Intro classes are always 90% kids who don't even have a concept of comma usage & think it's going to be an easy "A". Then there's you and one other who are actually trying. It sucks a whole lot.

I got a new tattoo Monday. It's my ninth. It was fairly spontaneous for a tattoo. And for me. But it was a change, and it felt great.

And Share Alike

You must know that I watch you.
I think you're afraid to watch me too.
There's a secret behind your smirk.
Something hidden, something dark.
Let's share secrets, let's find out.
Let's plant the seed and watch it sprout.
And dance beneath it's tangled limbs,
chanting ancient burial hymns.

Draw me a map. I'll decipher it.
Sketch me a maze and I'll delight in it.
I'll creep the alleys of your brain,
to find the treasure you contain.
I'll split that secret open wide.
There's no shame here, and no more pride.
I'll find your most delicious sins
and revel in them, drink them in.

I'm curious. You've struck a nerve.
I have to touch what I observe.
Something's lurking deep beneath.
That sarcastic mouth is just a sheath.
A shroud, a mask I'll rip away.
We're hand in hand. Come out and play.
Come frolic in our devilry.
Myself, our demons, and you makes three.

You can't fight a fighter or shock a freak.
Let me inside, give me a peek.
Let me taste your pain tonight.
I don't hit much, but I do bite.
Reveal your inner horror show.
Gasoline on the fire? How apropos.
I'll push your senses past taboo.
Don't worry. I show you mine, too.


(c) 2011 Adrienne Shonio

Everyone Hates the Boss

"That's right, my dear. I'd love to embrace you, but first, I have to satisfy my sense of moral outrage." (Roger Rabbit, Who Framed Roger Rabbit? 1988)

Without a chain of responsibility and accountability, things fall into chaos. If you are the boss, you are accountable to your boss. Everything falls on your shoulders. You can't hold onto all that accountability by yourself, or else you'll go crazy. You'll crack. And mostly, it's not fair. If there are people under you, staff you can delegate responsibility to, then that needs to happen. If they don't do their jobs, they need to be held accountable.


An employee (left) and me.

You can't do everything by yourself; that's what the people below you are for. You can't shoulder every task alone, shouldn't have to. You can't cover everyone else's mistakes all the time. You can't not point out other's mistakes or else they'll never learn from those mistakes.

But where to start? I always feel like I'm playing catch-up. I am constantly back-tracking to make sure that the little things, the easy things -- the "free throws" -- are getting done. This is how I lose sight of the big picture, and the big problems. Once upon a time, I was one of those staff below, and I did what needed to be done. I was responsible for my own actions. I led by example. But in doing so, I did more than my share. I did others' work, too. No one else needed to be held accountable, because no one else did anything. I took care of it all.

Now, I can't take care of everything. I don't have the time. I have too many other responsibilities. And those who took my place, don't have the understanding of how things work the way I did.

Did I fail? Did I not teach them right? Not well enough? Or do they really require the micro-managing that they claim to hate so much? Do they need someone constantly checking up on them in areas that I never did?

You can make as many lists and post as many memos as you want. If there is no follow-up, no one will ever take that list or that memo seriously. You may as well write "do whatever the hell you want," because that's what will happen.

I'm not the only one guilty of doing others' jobs for them. I've passed that trait on to my second-in-command under the mistaken guise of "work ethic." But they're easy to mix up. Sometimes your own to-do list needs to simply read, "make sure everyone else did theirs."

SMD

I watched Interview with the Vampire recently, again, because it is one of my favorite movies. I'm also reminded when I watch it of how much more richly detailed the book is. But isn't that usually the way? At any rate, at the end of Louis' tale he sets fire to the Paris vampires' catacombs and hacks away at them with a scythe. When he finally kills Santiago (played to infuriating annoyance by a wonderful Stephen Rea) in what I refer to as the Slo-Mo Deathstroke, I realized I've seen far too much of this great death technique in recent years.

Simply put, the SMD is when a character takes a hack (usually with a sword, but always something sharp) at the bad guy and misses. Until the bad guy stops and you see his body slowly slide apart, cut in two by the blow that did indeed land.

Now Interview... (1994) was the first movie I could remember using this move and at the time it seemed bad-ass. I mean, it still does because Louis is twirling the scythe around, eyes in full vampire mode, the place going up in flames behind him. This was unfortunately, not nearly the last place I saw this used. At this point, I'm on overload. There has to be another cool way to kill someone off.

Louis takes a scythe to Santiago in Interview with the Vampire.

I saw this for the second time in Cube (1997). A high school friend recommended the movie to me, as I will to you. It is a unique concept, which is why I can't bring myself to watch Cube 2: Hypercube or Cube Zero. In the first movie, though, Alderson gets sliced into little cubes by a large razor-wire grate or trellis. The trellis swoops down from the ceiling so quickly that -- again -- you don't realize what's happened until Alderson's body starts to bleed and falls into a pile of flesh blocks. It isn't until you see the trellis slowly folding back up that you realize how he was killed. You can watch the YouTube clip of this death here. It's sort of graphic, but very well done, and the expression on his face is priceless.

I witnessed my 3rd SMD in Resident Evil (2002) and was immediately reminded of Cube. I remember thinking how blatently this killing style was copied. Resident Evil does up the ante by creating an SMD threesome. It's also done by a laser trap, not a sword or the like, which was new. But it also copied Cube's multiple piece body-split. In other words, it would have been a cool death scene if it hadn't already been done. Here's the YouTube video. Forward to :45 for the actual deaths.


Ok Milla, just put the guns down. On second thought, don't.

I've previously mentioned my feelings about Kate Beckinsale. Despite all her leathery hotness in Underworld (2003), I was still immensely disappointed when the movie ends with (Spoiler Alert!) an SMD. That's right, Selene takes Viktor's sword to him in true SMD fashion. And in true Interview with the Vampire fashion, you really don't think she's killed him. Until he gets that puzzled look on his face...and it slowly slides into two pieces.

Ouch.

I'm sure there are other movies that have used/overused the SMD approach to killing. This was probably used prior to Interview... in movies I simply haven't seen. Not to mention there are other ways to die that have been overused. This one is my own pet peeve because it was new and brilliant to me the first time I saw it. I enjoyed all the above-mentioned movies (I own them all, and I just don't buy movies willy-nilly), so it's disheartening to see the same technique recycled so often. As realistic as they make the body parts, and as graphic as the bloody, squishy noises are, the first time is always the best.