Un (one)

Hi.

So... I happen to mischievously run into two casual breakthroughs these past couple of days. Not exactly a head to head collision per se. The impact was gradual, but concise enough for me to finally notice. One. You can be alone. Both in body and ceaseless thought. If you choose to, even in your most clouded modes of disposition, you can freely lash out off the shackles of reality. Put up a forcefield repelling anything that comes close. Build this immeasurable, supremely impenetrable wall around you. A shield. No way in. No way out. And so... I thought again, that perhaps, you might as well have the luxury of  returning, without event the slightest of prejudices, continue life in boundless isolation.

It's funny how life works. What an unsually capricious humor life has... I do admit, though humbly covered in doubtful conviction, I had implanted this idea in my silly head, that by secluding myself from the realities of this world, both its harshness and opportunities, lock my tangible self in my own little disorganized corner, lace euphoric fantasies in my drowning thoughts, that somehow, even just for a little while... I could run away.

But yes... You beat me to it yet again, internet. I was wrong.

Rosey

Rain, Rain

Ahhh the rain... Being the steadfast, homebound, ultraviolet light-loathing, self-proclaimed hermit that I am, I just love it. The magical cycles of condensation shiznits that the prestigious mother nature does whenever she feels like it. She's a lil nasty biatch like that. Quite impressive though. Perhaps a form of repressed vengeance? What weird sorcery, eh?

The response of each wandering soul, every beating heart to the uncountatble drops of corrupted vapor transformed into its liquid state, is and forever will be.. Different. We're all wound up at a variety of contorted ways. I wonder what earthlings, my fellow martians and whatever else organism there is in existence are doing right this very second. Uhh so, what about you my beloved reader? Whether you are an oxygen-breathing human being or a ticking, fire fueled creature. I want to know. How are you feeling this fine, best-pajama worthy, scalding hot and fatty, for-loud-obnoxious-slurping-only meals, it's-perfectly-decent-not-to-do-a-single-motor-thing-accepted-excuse kind of weather?

As for this couch sweet potato, as-long-as-I-am-at-home-dry-and-drowning-under-20feet-of-food, other-people-are-safe-and-sound, we-have-electricity-cable-and-internet, hot-shower-working-swell-as-it-should, more-time-to-do-rosey-shenanigans rain lover, ahh I think I'm good. Great even. The rain helps me think. Calms me down. Relaxes my tensed muscles. Slows down all of my mental and emotional processing. Trust me, I could use some of those lately.

PS.
I pray for everyone's safety. Please do take care everyone. May God Bless us all. Raincoats, umbrellas and boots, floaters, lifeboats and scuba gears are out!


Busying hungry bee,

Rosey


Tweet me!
My instagram too!

Tik Tok..

Deafening clicks and ticks.. The clock is constantly ticking, my ardous forbearing reader. And its skinny hands shall continue coursing its way second by second to sugary infinity.

Hi! It's me again. Quite engrossed in this sweet reboot I am venturing in. Lacking in this requirement the human body demands though. Earthlings call it "sleep". An unfamiliarity to your vocabulary as well? Ahh, fellow nocturnal creauture, you know... The imminent act where we close both eye lids. We shut down our conscious mind.  Let our subliminal selves take us blissfully away to dream land. The haven of deliruim and utter ecstasy. A yearn for euphoria I suppose. Who wouldn't want to habituate in paradise, eh? Hell yeah, I would.

So... I am currently submerged, nose-deep in shimmering shenanigans.. It is what you would call.. An oh so buttery "venture". I am painstakingly treading my way above the waters of majestic confection. A sweet, sweet culinary expedition. I am pretty pumped up! Took me a long time to feels this again. Hungry.. Excited! The fire is back! But I am not going to lie... The sugar buzz contributes to the hyper modes, my beloved reader. Ahhh, it has never let me down me, the power of glucose.. Amen.

PS.

Stay tuned for the best cookies, cakes, pies and everthing nice you will ever, ever consume in your lifetime and beyond! Hehe. I kid, I kid. But seriously, I shall humbly present my babies soon. I just have to make everything perfect for you guys. Share a piece of my ultimate euphoria. Sweet sensations for the perpetually hungry.

Ready your sacharrine fangs, my co ravenous martians! My sugary babies are on it's waaaay!
(Instagram for updates!)

Hungry Rosey

http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey
http://instagram.com/crimsonsandcream

From EX To Next Part II

Hi!   Well well.....   We meet again, my co wandering escapists. A part two of the previous, controversial post. Let us not waste one nanosecond, shall we? We have lots of poignant yet enthralling absurdities to discuss! Let us stimulate the ridiculousness within all of us! Let us begin!

The EX. Ex annoyingly itchy back scratch-ing. Ex I-am-going-to-die-from-giggles tickl-ling. Ex knockedout-from-minuscule-amounts-of-alcohol carry-ing. Ex I-ate-the-last-piece-with-a-huge-grin-on-my-whatever-sauce-covered-face-and-I-am-not-so-sorry-about-it convicti-ing. Ex even-people-from-Mars-deciphers-cacophonous-chuckles laugh-ing. Ahh.. Silliness. That's the thing that kept me in the relationship. *fake old man cough* Aside from that L word ofcourse. These memories are refreshing. It tells me why I should still treasure a failed relationship. Failed with quadruple big fat capital F's. But then... Reality bangs me in the head with an attention-grabbing reminder in neon lights that the worst thing out of all of  these is/was losing a best friend.

How did I know I have moved on? *dark, apocalyptic background music cue* Well first and foremost, I was still breathing. Anomalously short and seldom inhales. But enough to keep me alive (ish). Oh believe me, I wouldn't even attempt to glaze a whimsical I-was-fine veneer over the harrowing truth. That's bullcrap. I was a mess, my dear reader. A gigantic horrific, ghastly, widely abominable mess. Ahh just thinking about it pinches a certain segment of my heart. How horrible I felt.. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't talk. Couldn't even think straight! (Well that wasn't knew) All I did was eat and cry. Mostly at the same time, even. What a calamitous combo! That was how I dealt with it for a few months. But then, thankfully, before I began losing myself completely, I started this blog. Then began reading my eyes out. More intensely than before. From gory Scarpetta books to food and art history. Then I started to draw again. I discovered a hidden passion for these things. I was happy again. Just by being me. I realized the simpler things that became part of my animated daily self. Dilatory days were behind me. I was contented. My best friends were a big support. Pushed me to shed some vitamin D into my skin. Pushed me to date even! Ahh.. Now the dating part. Oh my goodness gracious golly  gesundheit gee whiz. How I hated this. Took me awhile.... A definite WHILE. My awkwardness paired with paranoia. A guaranteed disastrous typhoon! I tried it after two creativity rebirth years. It was rejuvenating. Well for one, he wasn't somebody I didn't know. We were actually pretty close even during my one relationship. He was a lil' sneaky then even. Though, any full bloomed love story didn't even get a chance to reach its Once upon a time. I sure did enjoyed it. The simple times. Simple easier times..

Now to be wooed.. To be swept off both my two left feet.. To be carried and flown away to utter bliss.. To be once and forevermore, treated like a queen and his world. *slo mo shampoo commercial-worthy hair flip* That's a different story. Yet to be written I guess? *wink

***to be continued

Now after this post....

Hugs and cookies,

The Hungriest Rosey.

http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey

From EX to Next Part I

It's that time again internet. And here you are! So if you would allow me to.... Ever, ever so kindly.. I shall babble a few of your precious minutes away! *No pun intended.

Here I am... Attempting to exude a lil' bit of enthusiasm about this e-e-entry. The trembling, apprehended post. Well.. To be utterly honest. It is quite liberating :) Ah what the hell! Let the grinding begin! Release the Kraken!!! *ginormous PUN definitely intended.

THE EX.. Uh, if you do not have any yet.. Well then! Congratulations!! Go on and continue reading my fortunate, fortunate friend. Hihi... Nah. Unnecessary jokes aside. I am welcoming you with both warm and slightly sweaty arms. *wink. Now where were we? Ahh.. The EX. Ex lover. Ex cuddler. Ex sweat wiper. Ex mind boggler. Ex stress causer. Ex stress lifter. Ex leftover eater. Ex food sharer. Ex makes me say I-hate-my-life-er. Ex makes me shudder and shout with all drools and conviction life-cannot-get-any-more-perfect-now-er. Ex constantly pushes me to do better-er. Ex I-am-corny-as-fuck-now maker. Ex tear jerker. Ex life threatning-fart from laughing giver. Ex perpetually my everything and anything in life-er. Whoever he/she is/was in your life.. The EX. The exed. Or the ex-er.

I have one. But let me tell you... From the roller coaster of emotions this one relationship has graciously bestowed upon me, it felt like I've been with a dozen men. Oh let me correct myself, not even close to a man yet, boys. Through years with this "boy". I have known him even before he had interest in boobs and booze. The single main reason of his existence was an old school analog controller held by both his sticky cheese-covered innocent hands. (Same goes for me btw way. Hihi) We weren't really that close during those dreaded pre adolescent years. But during "the" ever so fickly capricious relationship. I may have played all roles known to man. I have been like a naggy ass mother. A snot filled little spoiled brat desperate for attention. A terror, stoic as stone math tutor. A mysterious, passionate, sucker for romance lover. Different modes of Rosey were needed during these different, confusing times. It's amazing how growth transforms people. Well, I could go on and on and not finish by the time you get bored of me! But I think, my favorite version of myself to him was his loyal, resilient, I-would-catch-a-grenade-for-you-and-hug-it partner in crime. You see.. These different versions of you depend on wherever phase in life you're in. It doesn't mean you are/were a different person. It's just you being human. A human freaking being. My sweet dear friends... This is called.. The unending evolution of the man freaking kind.

More often than said, an EX is usually intertwined with something negative. A word you wouldn't dare mention, thought of even. It is either you end up getting a mandatory plaque of being the heartbreaker or the heartbroken. The culprit or the victim. Kind of sad actually.... *sigh* Why can't it be.. The former heartbeat-er. Or.. Former heartbeating. And beating.. ..and beating.....

***to be continued.

Well, still hungry....

 *wink

http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey

*GASP*

NEW POST.  Click. Inhale.  *lungs status: maximum oxygen capacity, a lil' more on the left lung*

Hi. *gasp* hihi.. Guess who's back, internet? Moi!

Okay... This is where things get a little awkard-ish. I guess..

Well....... I actually prepared a tini-tiny speech. Ehem. Here goes my close to unprecedented reputation.

*inhale*

I am filled with overflowing hoarded plans and ideas. Fluorescent lightbulbs that seem to give birth to unintended AND uncalled for brats. Multiplying every flying second. That is in desperate need of action by the way. Major results. ASAP.

My former fire and zeal was put out by  this metaphoric bucket of halts and orange lights. Frustration is squeezing out both the fuel and igniters within me. That flame I have been waiting for for so damn long? The one I have been saving for consumption during "the" race? Where the hell is it? I must say it. And I must blurt it out real quick. *inhale* At this point in my life, I would have wanted myself blazing through life with my chin held up high, shoulders back, a perfectly honed knife on my right hand, a little bruised and burns here and there, and on my scarred left hand, a humble Staedtler pencil. I would have pictured myself, at this hour cuddling with significant other, greasy cheeks to greasier cheeks, feeding him my oh so majestic double chocolate chip cookies. A Rosey surrounded by the people she values most, all smiles and laughs, couldn't imagine life getting any better. Fulfilled. Contented. I am 21 years old now. Yes OLD. I feel old. Mouldy even. I keep thinking like an old woman. Just too old.

This is a warm up post. A short entry to heat up my ever so blurred yet raw thoughts. I wish, whoever you are that's reading this right now, could read beyond these sluggish lines. Feel the feelings I am trying to come across. That maybe, in some distorted way, I could reach you, a person who's trapped too. A silly willy who just can't keep up with her continuously silly-ing self. You are not alone fellow alien. We come in peace. (I think)

 The still..
 Hungry Rosey

  http://twitter.com/#!/hungryrosey