Lost In Memories - Growing Up in the 90s

Chapter Two - Dedicated to my two sisters

     Before the age of the text message, where we have become slaves to technology, there was the glorious 90s, my wonder years. Growing up in the 90s was bubble pop delicious as us kids lived a carefree life with TRL and tamagotchis.

     Before that, the early 90s are the home to my first memories. I remember the Jersey boardwalk and the smell of salt water. I remember riding carousels and salt water taffy that got stuck in my teeth. I believe there are some distinct things we remember from childhood. Much how being at the ocean brings me back to a place of innocence, my parent's Plymouth Voyager drives throughout my memories just as strong, but with more mileage.

     It was our family's minivan in light blue with the suede grey interior. It was lived in for sure and smelled that way. There is something about the smell of that car I will never forget. Maybe it smelled like family or love, or maybe it just reeked of memories. As pleasantly potent it smelled, the seats felt even more vivid. It had two rows of back seats, as my sisters and I always fought about who would sit in the back. The last row was like a long bench to us as kids, where we could stretch out during our long trips to Florida, as I remember playing with the fuzz  that  hung from the seat in front of it. 

     As time rolled on, the 90s gave us Power Rangers, Saved by the Bell, Full House, and Fresh Prince. As I grew up being mesmerized by these characters, I made up some of my own. I was obsessed with Barbie dolls right up to my preteen days. I would sit for hours creating story lines and acting them out. I made them perfect lives and would get lost in their world. The 90s created Barbies such as the dad with the little "Tommy" doll. He was adorable with his baby blue eyes and mushroom cut, sandy blond hair. It was refreshing to have some men in the mix. However, I will never forget the "Becky" Barbie.

     She was a teen Barbie with silky, auburn hair and cute freckles. Don't let those cute looks fool you because Becky was a whore. She was the pregnant Barbie where one could remove the full term belly, or put it back on. The tiny infant Barbie lied inside the plastic womb, for at least I learned some important female anatomy. Just like MTV's 16 and Pregnant glamorizes teen pregnancy to an extent, so did "Becky". At the time, we had no idea what society was teaching us, but this new edition to my Barbie world led up to interesting plot twists. There was nothing more fantastic than this plastic.

     But nothing could beat my preteen years. My sisters and I shared a room that went from pink walls to blue, to yellow, to purple. Bunk beds and all, I cherish the time we spent there and the moments we shared.

      Amongst our favorite things to do was to play PlayStation while listening to LFO. As we sang every word to songs that has Jennifer Love Hewitt in the music video, we would take turns playing "Driver" for hours. We would just cruise around, as I would make up scenarios in my head of picking up people for a night on the town.

     "Tomb Raider" was another crowd pleaser, but frankly, we were chicken shit. We would have to call our mom to kill the bear or go around the scary corner to shoot the wolves. She would come in, slay the beast and hand back the remote, for she was super woman. We would make Laura jump around and hit walls where the infamous "Ugh" sound would be made. There was nothing morbidly better than drowning her in her mansion's pool, or harassing the butler whom we called "the old geezer".

     Another hit game that was crack to our young minds was "3Xtreme". We would take turns being the characters, as "humper girl" was amongst the favs. There was nothing like virtually beating the crap out of each other.

     Although cheesy, I to this day, love some 90s music. I remember the day my mom brought home our first Britney CD, but nothing shaped my preteen years more than Hiliary Duff's Lizzie McGuire. Thanks Disney for creating an awkward preteen that appealed to us, but better yet thanks for the franchise it became. I realize that the show began in 2001, not the 90s, but what captures the innocent bubble pop days more than some clean cut, family fun, Disney channel.

     My sisters and I would spend hours making concerts to "This Is What Dreams Are Made Of", choreography and all. The trends of the 90s (and on) eventually were laid to rest, but the memories of Justin Timberlake still being part of NSYNC* will live on. Maybe I was born the wrong era, but I will always love the 90s.

Lost In Moments

Preface

     It was December and yes, how it felt like it. This year, mother nature has been good to us in terms of the New York cold. But, it seems as if every New Yorker was saying that, jinxing it, one major curse from the masses.  For as we gathered for the wake that evening it was as if Jack Frost himself was sneaking up into our air, chilling our bones. Or maybe it was because we lost a loved one, as that blanket of warmth is removed. The candle doesn't just burn out for that life, the chilling wind reaches out to us all, latching onto our souls, weighing heavy on our hearts.

     I took my grandfather's death hard, as we all did. I feel like it matters what kind of person who are when you die. For these beautiful souls are heavily mourned, as there becomes a paradox of Catholics praying in Church as the priest blesses the body of the deceased, all the while those Catholics that let "Amen" leave their lips are asking themselves, "Why God, why"? We become selfish and want our loved ones here, but in reality, how many times did we really take the time out, really carve out quality time, not just on turkey full holidays? How often do we wish we told that person how much we love them?

     For my cousin and I, we got our peace in our dreams (a few days later). Go figure, I think I will always be a dreamer at heart. One look at my grandfather in that realm cycle and I knew he knew we loved him. He told me through his eyes that he was okay and in a better place. If was all an illusion my mind created to cope, then my mind knows me too well.

     The next day at the funeral, the sound of bagpipes couldn't drown out the sounds of tears and the wintry chill couldn't replace the fear that loomed over the cemetery like a thick, immovable cloud. As we  returned to 36 Center Lane, I thought I would loose my composure going back to the house my Nanny and Poppy lived in my entire life. There would be no more playing waitress or singing in Nanny's cane as a microphone, but who was kidding who? Those days had been long gone. Who would sit in my grandparent's chairs now that they're gone?

      To my surprise, I kept it together, as I felt at ease there with my family. That is when the stories began. My father was known as the saint in the family. He could do no wrong in his mother's eyes, but he really never did anything wrong. He was one of eight kids, living in Jersey City, growing up in the 70s. As my aunts and uncles began to reminisce  on the good ole days, my ears were fixated on their stories. The feeling of nostalgia filled the air and we all breathed it in like it took on a gaseous form, entering our lungs, but warming our hearts. My mind drifted off to the 70s....

Lost In Moments - Chapter 1

     I was born in the wrong era. Don't get me wrong, I do love the 90s, but there is time for that later. My mother called me a hippie for awhile and although I used to hate it, she was right in a sense. Now I've met some pretty hippie people, peace signs and all, where I am more girly chic. However, my mentality is a bit peace, love, and flowers. I went through my experimentation days and I do like some mary jane, but who doesn't smoke pot these days.

    
     Hearing stories of the father's childhood stood out to me as much as the tacky 70s print. It was as if someone slipped me some acid as the stories became so alive in my mind. I was sucked into a time warp, seeing long shaggy hair and bell bottom and platforms.

     My aunts would lie on black tar in the summer to get the perfect tan. I think women in any generation seeks for glamorous perfection, but now a days, society overdosed on us, and thus Snookie tans became "in". The tar would melt into hot volcanic like goo, as their skin baked like crispy bacon in the summer heat. They would play in the water on those hot summer days. Pool you think? Eight kids is a lot to feed, we must downscale. They would play in their own version of a pool with "sewer" water. At the time, hosing off and slapping around Jersey water was refreshing, but looking back, they couldn't stop laughing about playing the dirty water. They didn't have a lot of money, but were rich in love. Their memories were so glamorous to me, although I could also imagine the struggle.

     The kids (my aunts and uncles) always had someone to play with, no one was ever alone. They had a Brandy bunch thing going, but I began to respect it. Growing up, I thought they were old farts, but reliving their memories had me in this spell. I felt myself internally begging for someone to let me inhale more stories.

     They spoke about times way before iPhones and eReaders. They played with bottle caps and played games where you were a state and your opponents could take your land. They spoke about the pervert neighbor who always watched them from his window, as I envisioned some creepy hermit idolizing my aunts tall frames and poofy hair-dos. They spoke about the other bazaar neighbors who would listen to family's conversations in their buildings through the alleyway, kind of like peeping Tom's of the ears. There was a neighborhood friend who would sing the same song every morning to wake up the kids when they were wasting the summer's day away. You get plenty time to sleep when your dead.

     I began to envy their parents, as I felt their family unit and loved the stories about what a great man my grandfather was, him and his twitching nose. He looked like Santa Claus to me as a child with his round belly, suspenders, and his white hair. That nose twitch he would do only added to this mystical memory.

     My aunts and uncles were not saints either, as they laughed about "Twitchy" the girl with Tourette syndrome. All kids can be cruel. As teenagers they would ride bikes through the cemetery and my one uncle even ran away and lived there. I heard hushed stories of them smoking joints and even having sex there. It did smell like teen spirit then, but I wondered how they felt about cemeteries now.

     Through these stories, I began to see these people for who they are. They were family and I was proud to be there in that moment, although I couldn't live it in actuality. Maybe now their memories will go on, becoming immortal with a pen stroke. 

     That afternoon, I was lost in the memories. It made me think of my Poppy and his life towards the end. He was lost in his memories, as he began to loose sight of reality. What is it like to be in the moment but a lost moment? I wonder if he saw his wife in his memories and chose to stay lost with her. I imagine it was better than battling age and sickness. Our bodies fail us, so can our minds, but do we ever loose our memories, or is it we give up reality to be lost in a moment?

Swimming in my mind
Drowning in my ideas
Weaning
Letting the filth excrete from my pores
Oozing negativity
Only vaporizing
Positivity,
Creativity.

Frustrations seep out of my eyes as
I pick up the pace in my stride.
I walk out the anger, but can't out step the pain in the air.
I thought it wouldn't follow me.
I think you don't care.
I assume the worst and
hear curse after curse.
So I flee the scene of the crime, my feelings murdered again.
How can someone make me feel so alive,
then the next moment my feelings feel dead?
The clouds in my head fog up my perceptions as
I journey to our home with reservations.
I anticipate a calming of the storm, but I am,
yet again, wrong.
The horns on our skulls collide and we both try to
stubbornly stand our ground.
But then the tension will ease up and
again
it is love we have found.

Jazz music enters my body like a seductive, sultry kiss on my eardrums. The piano notes move me and my mind is off chasing notes of inspiration.

Behold an insect full of life;
Mighty and poised, as her wings take on flight.

Look at her objectively, this dragonfly;
Traces of the mythical dragon
can be seen through her glory, not her demise.

As fantastical dreams live inside her,
she learns along the way;
Although her splendor is alluring,
The dragonfly crushes her prey.

Behold this insect who has changed perspective;
She no longer wanted to be
lost in the world of deception.

Look at her for her meaning;
As they become deeper waters of glory,
Oh! how relieving.

Is it not you, there dancing ballet in the air?
Look how she owns it.
This iridescent beauty is always
living in the moment.

She lives a life without limitations,
Be who you truly are without hesitation.

For she understands what is meaningful in life;
Her mind has been opened and
she finally has sight.

Endless Lust

Finger tips touching soft skin
Vibrations, frustrations, but no altercations
In this thing called lust.

Tossling sheets and familiar smells
Sweet, pure, kissable
Licks, laughs, lust
Fierce in the moment
Pulling, passion, perfect
This is called endless lust.

Returning, leaving, goodbyes
Empty bed, empty heart
Can't pretend it doesn't hurt
It's not love, it's endless lust.

She had no clue, now she knows
Nothing's fair in love or lust
Not yours to keep but still he comes
Intrigued, insisting, inviting
Devoured hearts, starving mind.

Handsome bones lead down below
Wondering eyes, wondering hearts
Inside connected, hearts racing
Sweat down her naval
Kisses on his shoulder
Clenching of the skin
It's endless lust.

Hugging pillows
Empty space
Ashes of cigarettes
No remains
It was never love
But endless lust.

Different lives, different loves
If things were different
They'd be one.

Time moves, legs move
Fingers intertwine
Gentle kisses on foreheads
That wish he'd stay
But she feels no love in endless lust.

Confused, crazed, contradictions
No one said lust is easy
Messages, meetings
Was there ever any meaning?

But love never grows in endless
Lust.

Sometimes I become concerned with the world
and what I think.

I begin to question myself
before my eyes can even blink.

 I must stay true to me
and feed all my desires;
This has enough power to set my
heart on fire.

I am at a place in my life where I am coming into
my own and I feel alive;

Sometimes you need to get rid
of the bullshit,
leave old ways behind.

I strive to be a better version of me;
I am shredding fakeness
and not just giving into people's needs.

Why would I sacrifice my identity for you?
Especially after everything
I've been through.

I refuse to be a prisoner locked away
in endless gloom;
For me to not stand tall,
that would be my epic doom.

It is stupid of me to compromise my inner being;
For people whose hearts are not pure
and giving.

But I'll never take something
I don't even want anymore;

I'm moving on with my life
and closing those old doors.

All that you bring is disapproval
and guilt;

That's not me and I won't
get stuck in that sticky filth.

For everyone deserves to be happy and free,
I'm just focusing on being me.

Keys unlock the door past my heart
into my soul;
Your hands are mine to hold.

Keys unlock the door to my place,
where my closet is now your space;
Your treasures I will value 'til we're old.

Keys unlock a world that I hold so dear;
Your loving touches ,
I will never fear.

Keys unlock my imagination 
where I am free;
Your essence allows me to be me.

Keys unlock my guarded vault;
Your beating heart,
I shall never depart.

Fear of Death

Fear crawls into my skin and makes a home
running through my veins, suffocating my bones.

Darkness surrounds all, although it should be day.
But it feels like nothing can take the pain away.

Memories bring tears
Tears feed the fears
and the fears bring out the selfish beast.

The beast fully grown gets comfortable in my mind.
It roars why would you take that preciously life,
it wasn't the time.

The beast wants me to feel sad and afraid.
But this is life, it had to happen one day.

He makes me want to run to my lost
so I can feel found.
But it's a foolish trick,
for my list can't be around.

But my lost's soul will be
amongst the great.
Although I have fear,
I will have to emerge myself in faith.

So I dive head first as I know
I'll never have the answers
as long as my lost is at peace than that is all that matters.

For why be selfish that he's not here on earth.
There Utopia in the known
that's got it be worth

Slaying the beast called the
fear of death.
To lay you down to rest
is all that is left.

Selfish tears leave my eyes,
as I curse God for not letting me say my goodbyes.

Why so monsters walk amongst us alive,
and the good men are taken, I wonder why?

As we will lay you down to rest,
I know you will be looking down and to us you'll bless.

You'll be amongst the cotton candy clouds,
and to join the love of your life, you'll finally be allowed.

You'll no longer be a prisoner of your body and mind.
You are liberated and free
and your soul will love on for all time.

"...lend your ears to music, open your eyes to painting and...stop thinking! Just ask yourself whether the work has enabled you to "walk about" into a hitherto unknown world. If the answer is yes, what more do you want?"

-Kandinsky, 1910

I used to play down my feelings for you.
I don't know if it was 'cause I was scared
of falling or
if people around me would judge me,
for I was being untrue.

Who cares if this feeling has lifted me off my feet,
because if I do fall
it will only be into your arms.

Who cares what people think of me being young
and in love,
for you have been always been my rock,
so strong.

You have my heart nervously fluttering in synch
with the motions of butterflies in my stomach.
As every kiss feels like the first.
And a life I would have to live without you
would be the most intolerable worst.

So when storm clouds in your life
rain on your parade.
My arms will become umbrellas and
can take all your pain away.

When you don't get dealt a fair deck of cards,
I will give up everything,
let my essence starve.

Just to make sure you have a smile on your face,
I will keep you safe in my tender embrace.

Sleeping next to you each night makes my day,
If I could ask for one favor,
My love,
please never change.