BSM
  boot stomp media
  • Home
  • About
  • Share
  • Help
  • Connect

Boys And Girls - Part 2

10/13/2015

0 Comments

 
DISCLAIMER:  I share my writing on this platform since there is a high probability it will never find its way into a book. You are here because you clicked on a link. I am not forcing you to read these excerpts from my life as I remember them. I understand there are multiple versions of any shared experience, and this is just one version. I change names where possible to protect identities and request that you do not try to "reveal" them. I am not out to hurt anyone, but I do love me some sarcastic humor and creative license...hope the difference comes across. If you are offended by or don't agree with something in my writing that you chose to read, I 100% decline to care and 25% suggest you start your own blog. Sometimes I swear or talk about things that might make you uncomfortable, like religion and my vagina. If that last sentence made you slightly uncomfortable, this is probably a great stopping point for you. However, if you choose to continue reading, please do so respectfully so this site can continue to be a safe space.
​

Part 2… (Continued from Part 1 - Click to read)

Simon: This is going to be a hard one because you will probably stop liking me at this point. Simon was John’s best friend until I came along. I decided the time was up for my relationship with John, so naturally I did what any 14 year old coward would do. I cheated on him with another guy in the auditorium foyer during an award-winning performance from the high school drama club. Consumed with guilt, I immediately broke up with John and started pining after auditorium guy with not much luck. (More on him later). When that didn’t work out, a tall, stylish, bass-playing glass of water named Simon suddenly caught my attention. In the blink of an eye, I had ruined a friendship and snagged a new four year commitment. I managed to hang on to my virginity by a thread, bless his heart. Although I think I may have given him a blow job in the back of his parents‘ van on the way home from a family beach trip. Again, my memory fails me there because I subconsciously ignore any times in my past where I behaved like a damn hooker. The thing I remember the most fondly about this relationship is music. Simon was a punk rock kid with an old school gentleman twist. He made me mixes of bands like The Ataris, Blink 182, Dance Hall Crashers, Bouncing Souls, MxPx, and Unwritten Law. But he'd stop whatever he was doing and ask me to dance when Santana's Samba Pa Ti came on the radio. A true romantic, he would write me love letters and bring long-stemmed roses to my door like they were growing in his truck. Simon eventually left town on a quest to join the family business: prison. His plan was to become a correctional officer and then my husband. I really cared about Simon, but my plan was to not have anything to do with that. I had heard stories of C.O.’s beating the shit out of their wives because the stress of their jobs became too much to handle at home. No thank you. Besides, it was almost time to go to college. I saw Simon a few years ago; over a decade had passed since we were together. He came to see one of my shows when my band was on tour and smoked a cigarette during the break with my lesbian band mate who also happened to be my ex. As I looked out at the two tattooed, well-dressed, pompadoured musicians  through the front window of the bar in what I can only describe as a This is Your Life moment, it suddenly struck me that I did sort of have a type.

Check back next week for Boys and Girls - Part 3
0 Comments

Lean On - Major Lazer & DJ Snake ft. MO (Cover by Lindsay White)

10/9/2015

0 Comments

 
Woke up this morning and wanted to play but didn't feel like writing. So this happened. Can someone find me a castle to dance in?
0 Comments

Tourniquet

10/7/2015

0 Comments

 
As most of you know, I've been struggling to process the difficult relationship I have with my mother in the context of her battle with brain cancer. I woke up this morning and the words to this song just fell out. I wouldn't normally choose to write a song alluding to tourniquets since that's been done about a zillion times before but this particular song didn't really come from my own brain as much as it did my subconscious so I felt it was important to deliver in spite of the cliche. I wanted the song to be relatable from all aspects of the situation- from both my perspective as well as my mother's. 
Lyrics:
​1. all these needles all in vain

when will sleep come to numb the pain?
cut it off so it won't bleed
how does one try not to need?

CHORUS
i'm learning how to roll with it
the tightening of the tourniquet 
no blood supply i'm used to it
but i'll die trying loosen the grip 

2. all the things I saw
explain the rubber mouth and stubborn jaw
circulatory system breech
what kind of wave resists the beach?

CHORUS

BRIDGE
it wasn't my plan
i didn't mean no harm
oh well who needs a hand
who needs a loving arm

CHORUS
0 Comments

Boys and Girls - Part 1

10/5/2015

0 Comments

 
DISCLAIMER:  I share my writing on this platform since there is a high probability it will never find its way into a book. You are here because you clicked on a link. I am not forcing you to read these excerpts from my life as I remember them. I understand there are multiple versions of any shared experience, and this is just one version. I change names where possible to protect identities and request that you do not try to "reveal" them. I am not out to hurt anyone, but I do love me some sarcastic humor and creative license...hope the difference comes across. If you are offended by or don't agree with something in my writing that you chose to read, I 100% decline to care and 25% suggest you start your own blog. Sometimes I swear or talk about things that might make you uncomfortable, like religion and my vagina. If that last sentence made you slightly uncomfortable, this is probably a great stopping point for you. However, if you choose to continue reading, please do so respectfully so this site can continue to be a safe space.

​
Boys and Girls

I don’t think I was one of those girls with “daddy” issues. But for some reason I chose to be one of those girls with a perpetual older boyfriend. It sounds snotty to say I was mature for my age, but I was (hair flip). I spent most of my teenage years biding my time until I could finally fly the coup. Maybe I thought older boys were my ticket out of town, maybe I hated being alone, maybe I liked being the sole focus of someone’s attention, or maybe I didn’t want to bother making BFF girlfriends. I still haven’t really cracked the case, but the fact remains that I have not really been “single” for any significant period of time since I was 13 years old. The following is a list of the boys I busied myself with over the years. There were other flings here and there, but these are the “landmark” fellows. Please keep in mind while reading (and this is no excuse) that when measured against the girls I grew up with and the town I grew up in, my antics were relatively normal, if not vanilla. If you come from a dirty little town, you tend to do dirty little things to pass the time. The thing that makes me sad is this: all these guys, with the exception of one, genuinely loved me. But for some reason, I repeated the pattern of slowly making them suffer until I was ready to try something else. I was a man-eater and I didn’t even know it. The thing that makes me even more sad is this: if I wouldn’t have been so scared of being alone, and if I would have actually tried spending any amount of time getting to know myself, I may have realized I didn’t need them to fill in some imaginary hole in my life, thereby preventing years of pain and suffering for all parties involved. I won’t make assumptions that any of these guys even care about my wrong-doings at this point, but I do still carry with me the residual guilt of being such a dishonest person and the shame of being so horrible to people who loved me. Not to mention I am embarrassed for being somewhat of a teenage dirtbag.

John: He was about 16, I was about 13, and my mom was about to shit a brick. This guy had no business being with someone my age, but in his defense, someone my age had no business being at the party where we first met. We clung to each other for a couple years, me for the reasons listed above, him for reasons having to do with trying to take my virginity, bless his heart. J/k, he really loved me, I think. Due to my parents‘ legitimate concern over our relationship, I somehow found myself turning into some sort of secret agent in order to spend time with him and experiment with the sensations I was having between my legs. Sometimes I look back on my time with John and I am repulsed. I think I may have given him a blow job in the back of a church van, but the memory is fuzzy due to years of trying to block it out. Other times, I find a sweet little silver lining of tenderness. Many nights I found myself scooting down the hallway stairs one-by-one on my butt so the floorboards wouldn’t creak, then slipping out of the garage door into the night where John would be waiting at the school across the street. He spread out blankets and we would lay there under the vast black starry sky keeping each other warm and listening only to the sounds of a train rolling through town every half hour. Even though it was a wildly inappropriate relationship, those particular memories remain clear in my mind and I think of them fondly.

Check back next week for Boys and Girls - Part 2
0 Comments

    SHARE

    This is where a bunch of my writing lives.

    Sign Up for Music/Writing Updates

    Categories

    All
    Anxiety
    Book Club
    Commercial
    Covers
    Dollface
    Family
    Feminism
    Grief
    Heartbreak
    Lens Of Loss
    LGBTQ
    Lyrics
    Memoirs
    Mental Illness
    Mom
    Music
    Narrative
    Poetry
    Politics
    Published
    Random
    Songs
    The Lovebirds
    Unfinished Stuff
    Videos

    Archives

    January 2021
    September 2018
    April 2018
    August 2017
    July 2017
    June 2017
    May 2017
    March 2017
    November 2016
    August 2016
    March 2016
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014
    November 2014
    October 2014
    September 2014
    August 2014
    July 2014
    June 2014
    April 2014
    February 2014
    December 2013
    October 2013
    September 2013
    August 2013
    July 2013
    June 2013
    May 2013
    April 2013
    February 2013
    January 2013
    December 2012
    November 2012
    October 2012
    September 2012
    July 2012
    May 2012
    March 2012
    December 2011
    November 2011
    August 2011
    January 2011
    October 2010
    September 2010
    August 2010
    July 2010
    June 2010
    May 2010
    April 2010
    March 2010
    February 2010
    January 2010
    December 2009
    November 2009
    October 2009
    August 2009
    July 2009

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.