Tag Archives: women

secret keeper

She kept her heart tied up in the cellar

I’d visit

From time to time

Laying kisses on the palpitating thrusts

Signs of life

Reaching from her insides

Left out

But locked away


But left to fray

She kept her mind sealed up in the attic

I’d visit


Rubbing temples no longer connected to her entity

Cries of strife

Poured out

Left over from

From her past life

The day she asked me to stay

There was a little box inside her hands

“Open it”

She said

In a breath so sweet

I had instant cavities

“Open it”

She said

Before I fully took off the top of the box

Revealing the key beneath the lid

She threw her arms around my neck


“It might be the last thing I’ll regret.”

feed your walls ♥ brian viveros

Brian Viveros


fluorescent hay

There’s nothing a little ocean salt in the air and gourmet french fries can’t cure.

I’m not exactly in the mood to be writing/sharing. But I’m doing this more as a personal exercise rather than to expel any specific emotions. I’m in a rather neutral state so…dramatics are at a stand still. And my best writing comes from the drama…I think at least.

Recently…sadness has turned into anger…which…slightly dissipated. And now I’m left feeling pretty indifferent. I don’t really feel there is much room for other emotions. At the core, yes, I can still admit there’s some questioning…some yearning, even a tinge of jealousy…but… Idk. I’m pretty logical when it comes to facts. At least now that I’m older.

22 year old Taschka would have probably had a cow, flipped out and done some kind of a spell just to prove a point. But I’m not as ridiculous as I used to be. And all I can do is live in the current state of knowledge that now inhabits my brain. Prior to this information I was prancing around open fields of fluorescent hay…somewhere between fantasy and the black hole. And that was my home…that cotton candy field of the unknown.

They say ignorance is bliss, and that couldn’t be more true. But for me, the facts are all I can presently focus on. It’s all I have. And reality is that sometimes people hide behind facts. Because telling you the truth without concrete blockades can appear more cruel.

Keyword, being “appear.” and nobody likes to play the role of the bad guy. I have a lot of respect for bad guys…that just come right out and stake you in the chest…as opposed to dancing around the heart of things.

I wish I hadn’t gotten this emotionally invested into something that will never be. It’s going to be a lot of interior work to free myself of this. Not hard work…but abundant. It felt like it was going to be hard a week ago. But now it’s just necessary. And honestly…I’ve got too much self respect to continue pining over someone who I now know is into someone else. I just don’t function like that. I never have. So…that’s my logic for the night. I think I should get some sleep now.

Night world.

our father

Apparently I’m a nun.

Idk that I find this complimentary or…otherwise.



I mean, ok…I WILL NOT just slut it up with anyone….I don’t give a flying F.U.C.K how attractive I find them. I have to find you extremely appealing to even want to do anything remotely physical with you. This is not to say I don’t have “fun” occasionally when the moment calls for it. I’m not a complete and utter prude.

Just a nun…seemingly so. What…is that…one step down from prude on the holy grail of slutdome?

Well, whatever the case I’m so not interested in meaningless bed wrestling. Even in the newest of scenarios there can be slight meaning, for me anyway. In some way or another..somehow. Sometimes you don’t even know this until after the fact. Most of the time I’d like to think…I can tell if I’m feeling someone for more than a quick game of tonsil hockey and barefoot bingo. But….sometimes…shit happens.

I just don’t like to step in a lot of shit.

So if I’m a nun….so be it.

“Why didn’t you $%#& her?!

Whhhhhat kind of question is that????? I mean really.

Ummm because…

Just because. I’m a lady dammit.

Would I really be more fun if I dropped my drawers for everyone I thought was attractive or found me attractive? Like “hey there handsome beautiful, wanna have a go?”

Even at 16, 18, and my early 20s I wasn’t like that. I was boy crazy to put it mildly but I still wasn’t promiscuous. Then when I started dating women I calmed down even more. If I was still straight…whatever I was…bi, “free” I would have been married by now I think. No joke. I’m not sure what changed along the years…but I’m not ready to be “settled” at least I don’t think. In a relationship, maybe. But “settled” eh…

Not sure.

Maybe it’s because the women I’m attracted to have gotten younger and younger and how can I settle with those that are just blossoming? Even the women my age I’ve been with are fucking peter pan at heart.


I could keep typing…but I need to leave. Too much to do. So much to say, but I just started feeling strange…

Reflecting is…odd….and unsettling when you hit a soft chord.

Perhaps I’ll revisit this subject another time.

things i forgot in the wind

I forgot how much I love when doors are opened for me and all that old school loveliness. I hate “roles” but I dig being treated like a lady. Period. But ahhh what I really forgot was how much I love a persistent Woman…until I was just reminded. Or persistent is the wrong word. “Aggressive” maybe is a better word. But that sounds so…aggressive. Hmm. “Forward?”. Damn, whatever…”forward” intentions known. Shit just laid out on the table. Interior exposed.

It’s refreshing.

I’ve gotten so accustomed to either others telling me I keep them strategically closed out…or keeping certain feelings to myself in fear of getting hurt and rejected. Worse than death in my book.

So this change is…welcomed.

I missed just saying…anything. And not having to worry. Even better, I’m glad I actually want to share the personal parts of me again. I was beginning to think I’d turned into one of those self sabotaging girls. Ya know the type…fall for the wrong people on purpose for numerous reasons.

So I’m just glad to see it was a one time situation. That or maybe I’m not used to NOT getting what I want. It makes me irritable and I’m not conditioned to deal with it. ­čśŤ

Ha. Don’t you guys love my brain.

I do.

I lost my train of thought and I’m tired as all get up. Must sleeeeep.

Night! Or morning considering the time.

sugar high

I did it again.

Blurred that line
Between nursery rhymes
And more than friends.

The ice queen is back
Fuck neglecting the boredom.

I’ve got three little facts
In tact
To keep me from whoring.

At least I won’t be your whore.
But go right ahead and adore.
I won’t stop you while you continue to pour…
Cuz I like sugar
Maybe more then I dig catnip.

And you like my purr…

As much as you like that sip…
You think you’re bound to get.

But baby that’s ok
Long as you know
There’s an expiry date to your trip.

Heaven can have
Only so many soldiers.
And I got a line full of bees
Ready to go to war for this honey.

But you can…

Try me
For size.

Word to the wise
You might wanna put your wash
On extended cycle.
Cuz my scent is hard to shake.

I get all up in your molecular space
Kicking up those endorphins
Like you on some kinda steroid crack from outer

It’s that new shit.

Y’all try that new shit?

It’s called Taschka.

And I can’t be giv’n it out like some damn party favor.

So if I were you
I’d savor what you can…

While you can.

Cuz you ain’t staying the night

Oh no
Oh no

Maybe you don’t know that yet…
But I won’t let you forget.

Word to the wise…

This shit
Comes regulated
By the national government.

Too much of me will cause a world wide

A sugar rush
of enormous capacity.

Yeah baby,
I’m that mothafucking sweet.

But you ain’t stayin the night.

In this moment
My sole interest
Is something along the lines
Of inhaling your face.
As fingertips dance along edges
And limbs are misplaced.

Oh, and…

I’ll let you do that thing you do…

Where you take me to that place
Below prerequisites…
Beside adjectives…
Above time space travel equivalents.

Less talk
More action.

Just be sure to fill in the blanks
With lots of P’s and Q’s
And don’t forget to dot your I’s.

While you’re at it
I’ll throw in a few
Yes, please, and thank yous.

But no, you ain’t staying the night.

Not to say I don’t appreciate you.
And all the little things I’m sure
You’re bound to do
For some other girl.
I’m just not interested in being her.

Not yesterday, the day before
Or this time around.

Let’s pretend this is an open house
Grab your bottled water
Finger food
Take a quick look
And don’t let the door hit you on the way out.

Oh no.

I’m not trying to wake up
Without my hair on point…
Just to play footsie
In the morning
Like we on the b-side
Of some played R&B joint.

You are not my princess charming
And I will not be Cinderella tripp’n
So better I begin
With your not so happy ending

Then confuse you…

Like I did the rest of ’em.

quick fix

Some things need temporary fixes.

Some people act as temporary fixes.

In a perfect world no person would be regarded as a “fix” nor “temporary” by anyone.

I should hold myself to a higher regard. I should try not to take advantage of women.

Does is count if it’s not intentional?

Am I a liar if I tell someone I’m interested when the more accurate term…might be “bored”?

Even if I never actually tell them a thing…implying is just as messed up. Isn’t it?

Am I an even bigger asshole writing this blog considering it’s the ones I’m the least interested in…that pay the most attention?

The saddest part is I can relate to them. Wanting something that doesn’t really want you back. At least not in the same way. But how do you tell somebody that? “I feel your pain, I was in your shoes…just not about you.”


Yeah. I’m an asshole.

This is why I avoid these situations. The more I stay locked away in my artistic cave the less I have to deal with being sergeant scumbag.

I shouldn’t even be writing right now. I’m supposed to be asleep. Another early ass buttcrack day and here I am still up…and blogging! My brain has the most inconvenient timing. Maybe this is my guilty conscience…not my brain.

Oh and something really amazing happened recently. Or somebody amazing…it seems, maybe…we’ll see…But that’s all I will say…for the minute.

Anyhow…back to this other crapola…

Women know. We know when someone is all there…when someone is present and into them. I’d like to think I do. So I assume that…they…do, too.

“Where are you?” she asked. Funny….the one before you asked me the same thing.

Not here…somewhere else…

Something extraordinary reached inside my chest, ripped out my heart and was holding it hostage. I’m still trying to sew it all back together.

Life would be so much simpler if I could just fall…..for one of them…any of them. For even a day, if I could feel something some how…some way…for someone besides the one I can’t allow in my head.

But…I…am NOT a “simple” woman.

Thank god Jen is in town, cuz I could not deal with this ish on my own. Why did this “stuff” have to follow me to NY. Argghh. I’m not in the mood.

The most fucked up part of popping pills in the form of women…

Is when they know just how temporary a fix they are.

And still they come back.

So really, am I to blame?