Well, if this isn't honesty, I don't know what is.

Here's the thing. The reason I'm always writing about love is because it's the only thing on this planet that really fascinates me. It's all I think about. And it's all I want.

Well. Maybe food as well.

A love of food?

Who knows.

But my obsession with relationships and intimate connections definitely overshadows every other part of my life. Like work. And.....work.

I don't give a flying fishcake about anything else. I don't have the energy for it. It's not what I want to spend all my time on. I've only got one life, and as I see it, I'd like to spend it getting to know some people.

I am aware that in the process I am neglecting the pursuit of becoming a people.

But becoming is hard.

And we all know there's only one hard thing I like to do.

*innuendo*

In which Billie Holiday sings my tipsy thoughts and I propose, also drunkenly

Oh Billie, Billie. Sing it Lady Day. You know how I love to hear you warble about your man. "And if I never fall in love again, that's soon enough for me." How alike we are. I wonder what I would be pining over if I had never met any of my fifteen. A steep number. And I'm not finished yet. Not with men. Not with women. Not with the others in between. "And I find the very mention of you like the kick in a Julep or two."

I will be astounded if what I have had is all I am capable of. Give me something crazy. Give me someone who understands me. Find me my other half, who will say YES to every mad idea I have. Someone who will discuss Margaret Atwood with me. For me to be enamored so that no other will turn my head. I want midnight drives to the beach. I want last minute flights to France. I want picnics. I want an appreciation of Prokofiev and Debussy. Dancing in public. Food fights.

Whyyyyyyyyyy do I so desperately want commitment with someone when I know I can't deliver that. I need some friends. I need a hobby. I need a direction. I need motivation. Where the hell did it all go? How did I get here? When will it end? When will I finally meld all the pieces of me together and discover who DANIELLE KELLY HERBERT really is?

I HATE ASKING QUESTIONS. I WANT TO BE DOING. GIVE ME SOMETHING TO DO. SOMETHING I LOVE. SOMEONE I LOVE. I'M TIRED OF NOT KNOWING HOW TO FEEL CORRECTLY.

I'm tired of tricking myself in my dreams. It feels real every time.

"Your goodbye left me with eyes that cried. How can I go on, dear, without you? You took the best, so why not take the rest?"

"Love will make you drink and gamble, make you stay out all night long. Love will make you do things that you knooooow is wrong."

Oh, sweetie, dearest you're making me cry. Let's curl up, let's be lovers. Let's spill secrets and pretend we have control of it all. Let's never make promises to each other because we both know what a cheater I am. Let's take it slow. Let's take it fast. Let's get high off our head on what idiots we are. Let's take over the little universe we create, and not care about the outside. "The very thought of you and I forget to do those little ordinary things that everyone *ought* to do."

"Just can't get my poor self together; I'm weary all the time."

"The same old story, but it's new to me."

Marry me, Lady Day. I'd love you forever.

Lipstick

I will change my shade of lipstick
Underneath my face remains

All I want are all the motions
All that changes are their names

I will tell you who I am
And then I'll tell you who I'm not

I've made you a promise that
You'll find I have forgot

Addressing the "Fight the New Drug" Movement

SOME THINGS THAT KILL LOVE:

• Dishonesty
• Lack of trust
• Abuse
• Cheating
• Oppressiveness
• Lack of respect
• Lack of communication
• Bottling emotions
• Anger
• Taking advantage
• Fear
• Neglect
• Boredom
• Personality changes
• Unrealistic expectations
• Lack of support
• Lack of understanding and/or empathy
• Jealousy
• Greed
• Ultimatums
• Unnecessary criticism
• Stubbornness
• Unwillingness to compromise 
• Silence

SOME THINGS THAT DO NOT KILL LOVE:

• Porn

SOME QUALITIES OF ADDICTS:

• Obsession
• Withdrawal
• Loss of control
• Denial

SOME BEHAVIORS THAT DO NOT EQUATE WITH ADDICTION:

• Occasional use, not overtaking normal daily activities or relationships

SOME TRUTHS ABOUT PORN:

• Some people have real porn addictions. Most people don't.
• It's a healthy way to explore the nuances of your personal sexuality.
• It's not for kids. Obviously.
• Lots of couples use porn to enhance their relationship. These couples love each other.

There is no need to stigmatize porn use. Those who like it use it, those who don't aren't forced to watch. If we use conservative fear-mongering to 'educate' (and I use the term loosely) adolescents to condemn pornography without teaching its panoramic reality, all that will come is unnecessary guilt and denial. Don't confuse them. Porn isn't bad if you know how and when to use it. Just like, well, anything at all. 

You want to make a change for the better? Get better health education in schools. I'm talking five-a-day health and free contraception health. Fight against child abuse. Take a stand for minority rights. Get kids involved in politics. Raise awareness for the homeless, for the mentally ill, for the at-risk. Overthrow the patriarchy. Buy organic. Support your local businesses. These are all way more important issues than porn. Pick one. Run with it. Make a difference. 

And stop spreading lies about porn.

Stifled Photosynthesis

I wasn't crying because of the words, I was crying before that, playing to keep me from crying again. Wishing I could peel back my own layers, avoiding the answer I already know. That is why we fall in love, to have someone else skin us to the bone. Tell me, Love, am I fated to carry my false covers until the day I die? Tell me, Love, is it better that I cling to my layers until I can no longer distinguish them from the rotten core beneath, starved of sunlight? Or moonlight, I suppose. That is your usual mode of exposure, is it not, Love? Regardless. I no longer bathe in either. I talk too much of you, I think too much of you, I want too much of you, I want too much from you. Let me steal you and slip you in, away from the spotlight. Am I exposed or adding yet another mutinous layer? Let me smile and tell you too many times the same old stories. Let me name my fractions and feed them to you. If you met me in a dark alley would you run away from my weapons? Or would you know of my inability to wield them? There is nothing I can wield anymore. Not my music nor my poetry nor my innocence nor my excuses. Nothing to fight with. No one to fight for. No opponents, no audience. Just layers and mascara smudges down my cheeks and an intense thirst for more than this, what lies before me.

Bellini

Tonight there was no solace in my cigarette. One puff and I was done. I expect it would be much the same with you.

You bite like a peach. No sweetness. All honesty.

You will never be what I expect.

Always a toss of the dice.

Fate still to decide.

Perhaps there is a crossing in our stars. Or maybe it will always boil down to our drinking habits.

Perhaps you are not for me, peach.

Then again,
Perhaps you are.

And life moves on...

I am so supremely grateful to have this space to spew things that I can't on Facebook. Such a release.

First up, it's really funny getting emails from theknot.com saying that I need to start thinking about booking hotels for my wedding guests.....and remembering that once upon a time I was getting married next year. And life moves on.

As a little self-love-and-acceptance project I have decided to stop shaving my legs and underarms (YAY DEFYING SOCIAL NORMS!!) So I think now I haven't shaved in about three weeks.....lemme tell ya. It. Is. Awesome. I genuinely love being hairy. Don't be concerned, I still clean myself regularly. But yeah. I am enjoying this experiment.

I cooked a strudel last night. And by that I mean it was frozen from lidl and I shoved it in the oven for a half hour. It was mucho delicioso.

I am not looking forward to working the weekend.

I so need a new job.

Bleh.

Money.

But, as dear Ms. Billie Holiday sings, that's life I guess.

Back to wasp hunting in my bedroom. The count is up to five. Eww.