DateMeBecauseYouKnowYouShould

For as long as I can remember, there’s been one thing I’ve been trying to accomplish.
And that…is to date…you.
It doesn’t seem that complicated. But trust me it is.
Just for the simple fact that I’m me.

Then there’s part of me which thinks that you’re just afraid of the commitment that dating is usually related to. Because dating, leads to making out, which leads to sex.
And we all know the big problem that sex leads to…Chlamydia.
But I assure you that I don’t have Chlamydia.
How could I? I’ve never even had a girlfriend. And even if I did, Chlamydia isn’t even that bad compared to what it was before. Or other STDs.
But then it doesn’t matter because I don’t have any, nor do I even want to have sex with you. Why?

Because I like talking to you. And I really don’t think people have conversations during sex. Or would even talk anymore after he gives her Chlamydia.
But again…I don’t have Chlamydia. I like saying Chlamydia.

I also like saying your name. And when you say mine.
Or when you say anything for that matter.
Because any sentence you’ve ever said…is my favorite sentence. Ever.
But sometimes, it feels like all I’m doing is annoying you.
Even though you’ve told me over and over again that I don’t.

So here I am thinking that you would finally fall for me if I did something. Something different. Like writing you short poems on post-it notes and sticking them everywhere around you in an elaborate, yet painfully cliché manner, so that you find one every day so you remember that I never forget about you.
But that wouldn’t really do anything. Because all I can see from here is you analyzing me. Watching every move I make, checking for sincerity and intentions…like I was some sort of dating draft pick.
And you with your clipboard and a team of scientists in lab coats going ”Is he worth it?” with your advisors whispering in your ear.

But let me tell you something.
You. Should totally date…me.
If not just because I put so much effort into writing this, or even reading it right now (which is already a good enough reason if you think about it) but because I think that every guy out there that is not me, is a big doodoo head.
And you not liking me just makes me think I’m unloveable. Which might be true, but how would I know if you haven’t given me a chance to prove you wrong. Which I’m sure I would be able to. Because I’m not a big doodoo head nor do I have Chlamydia. So basically, I’m perfect for you.

And here’s something to think about. Oxytocin, also known as the love hormone, is released after sexual excitement is not only important for pair bonding, increasing trust and reducing fear, increasing empathy, and acting as a natural depressant, it also helps heal and lets you live longer.
So basically, oxytocin turns you into a superhero. Falling in love is like turning into Deadpool. So if you get hurt, maybe you get cut and start bleeding, you should go fall in love with someone, go back to what you were doing before then BOOM! Still bleeding. But you feel amazing after.

What I’m trying to say is…that I don’t want to have sex with you, I don’t want to have Chlamydia, I don’t want to perpetually think I’m annoying you and just look for reassurances, I don’t want you and your friends to just size me up thinking I’m not good enough for you because I think I could be. I just want to date you…and turn into a superhero. And maybe fall in love with you.
So if I ever confess anything to you…please. Just give me a chance.

ArguingWithMandyMooreAndMirriam-Webster

I think I might have a crush on you.
But the whole idea of it got me thinking…

First of all, why do they call it a crush?
By definition, the word crush means “1. To compress with violence, out of natural shape or condition. 2. To break into small pieces. 3. To humiliate or depress completely. Or 4. A song by Mandy Moore from 2001.”
Now 1 seems to be way off track since I don’t want to compress you with violence. I like you. I care about you, so why would I want to compress you in any way? Maybe I’d compress you with a hug, but then that wouldn’t be in any way related to the definition…so never mind.
2 seems to be more fitting of a crush gone wrong when they say you get your heart crushed…but that doesn’t sound right. At least not yet.
3 is something I hope this doesn’t lead to.
So that means 4 is the most appropriate.

Now I’m not a Mandy Moore fan, but it looks like an adolescent pop star is way ahead of the curve as far as defining this entire problem goes. Because I don’t think Mirriam or Webster still get crushes, so how would they be able to properly define it in a dictionary?

To me, a crush is something you’re meant to grow out of.
Either it turns into something more, or you get the 2nd and 3rd definitions.
Or it turns into something more, it doesn’t work out and you still get the 2nd and 3rd definitions…hmmm.

Now if this is what it feels like to be “in love”
I think dying would probably be like a rollercoaster ride.
I mean…wondering if you even know I exist, wondering if you like me back, or sleeping on a bed of nails every night wondering if there’s another guy. If you like me as just a friend, or if I annoy you every time I send you a message or a text…it’s not my thing.

But since I’m already here, I might as well get an answer.
So…will you be my Mandy Moore?
Or will you leave me with 2 and 3?

IHateGirls!

I HATE GIRLS!
I mean…I don’t hate all of them.
Just those…those hella complicated ass girls.
I mean those...
you could try for a life time and never even slightly understand them ass girls.

And those…

Those stupid ass girls.
Those wear 3D glasses around the mall ass girls.
Those other girl has something they want so they start hating ass girls.
Those make a big deal out of nothing ass girls.
Those try so hard to be noticed but never get a mention ass girls.
Those got a Formspring account but never get a mention ass girls.
Those on Tumblr all day reblogging the same crap ass girls.
Those never go anywhere unless they’re in a pack ass girls.
Those wear leggings and tights as pants ass girls.
Those wasting their time dating assholes and douchebags ass girls.
Those post pictures saying they’re ugly while fishing for compliments ass girls.
Those thinking they’re the shit ass girls.
Those thinking they’re worth shit ass girls.
Those expect guys to do everything for them ass girls.
Those think they’re drunk after taking one sip of alcohol ass girls.
Those put the worthwhile guys in the friend zone ass girls.
Those can’t let go of their ex after forever ass girls.
Those boots with the fur ass girls….well, I don’t really mind them.
Those never stop talking ass girls.
Those never start talking ass girls.
Those Facebook status updates of song lyrics ass girls.
YEAH! Those “Can we pretend that airplanes in the night skies are like shooting stars ‘cos I could really use a wish right now” ass girls!

I hate those girls…
But I haven’t even gotten to the girls I really hate.
I mean I just hate those…

Those think they have to show skin to be noticed type girls.
Those got a lot to say but too shy to voice their thoughts type girls.
Those think they’re fat because their dress size is an actual number type girls.
Those beautiful soul but get passed in the halls type girls.
Those want something great to happen but aren’t willing to take a chance type girls.
Those quick to believe gossip but will never believe a compliment type girls.
Those gave up on what they want because society said differently type girls.
Those perfectly fine but completely insecure type girls.
Those won’t eat because they don’t want to be seen as fat type girls.
Those stopped believing in love because of one bad experience with an asshole type girls.

But just to get it straight, I don’t hate every girl.
Just most of them. Thank you.

Somethin'Wrong

Tell me you ain’t with that dude on your side
And I don’t mean this to be rude when I rhyme…but
Tell me you ain’t doing that dude on your side
If it’s true then there’s something going wrong around here.

She got a thing for them white boys. You know...thin, emo, tight clothes. Looking uncomfortable like they're walking on a tight rope. And I’m wondering, when she’s gonna see the light, ‘cos none of these hipsters, are ever gonna treat her right. Seriously, you’re kidding me…’Cos really g? You think he’s so appealing in his neon green, skinny jeans? And most definitely his style is in question, because there’s gotta be something, wrong if his v-neck reach the bottom of his belly button. Is your type really guys that steal the swag of Justin Bieber? Or maybe it’s the shoes…I mean, maybe I have to be a hypebeast, start rocking Nike’s, with a clean fit white tee…then I could get a girl to like me. I mean, I’m honestly sorry that I don’t look like someone out of Twilight. But you see, I’m not the type to white lie, but for every girl I’m the farthest from the right type. Instead…I work to be that highlight, when you reflect on your day by your nightlight, forget about a nightlife I’ll spend my 10 o’clock’s tryna handwrite, a message out to you hoping that in hindsight, you change your preferences for the nice guy.

Tell me you ain’t with that dude on your side
And I don’t mean this to be rude when I rhyme…but
Tell me you ain’t doing that dude on your side
If it’s true then there’s something going wrong around here.

If it ain’t them then she’s into those artist types. You know, Nikon’s and flashing lights. Playing guitars singing songs they write…just to feed the hype. And just because of that, girls think they’re super nice…Then maybe I should learn to sing and sit in front of a camera. Pluck strings, just sing and hope that some girl out there will fall for an amateur. But if that’s the case, I ain’t mad at cha. ‘Cos I’m thinking maybe it works for poets too, though compared to these guys I’m 0-2. Then there’s jocks and thugs too, so tell me what the hell am I supposed to do? ‘Cos when I see girls like you, I start getting butterflies. Then I think to myself, what ever happened to the funny guy, the friend that listens to you all the time, or the type of dude that’s just kinda shy? Guys that just get pushed aside…then y’all complain the good guys are in short supply!? ‘Cos I understand that preference can be accountable, and finding Mr. Right is a different kind of animal, but you're dating a guy with the ego of 20 cantaloupes, that's just plain horny...antelope, a douche in Abercrombie & Fitch gear, cocky ass dudes the opposite of sincere, now I’m not hating but there’s something wrong with this shit here.

Tell me you ain’t with that dude on your side
And I don’t mean this to be rude when I rhyme…but
Tell me you ain’t doing that dude on your side
If it’s true then there’s something going wrong around here.

See those kinds of guys, are alright but girls only see what they act like…they’re cast members. But in actuality, they’re probably ass wipes…with bad tempers. But getting y’all to see what I see…I probably have a better chance at beating up Brock Lesnar, going to China and slow dancing with the last emperor, getting Bob Marley to chant white power with some clan members or catching a Squirtle and teaching it the attack Ember.
Because I’ve learned that I’m usually Ned Flanders, the TOO nice type. And ever since my first rhyme, I’ve spent way too much time, trying to get a verse right. ‘Cos on stage and on the tracks I’m like Raiden from Mortal Kombat, Atilla the Hun riding in from horseback, tsunamis and tornadoes on the forecast, and repeatedly getting kicked in the ballsac. But with girls I’m more like cold lemonade on a sunny day, chick flicks on a Saturday starring Anne Hathaway, and phone conversations at 4AM staying wide awake.
But when I meet that girl so perfect she could make heaven wait, and thinking about her almost makes me levitate, I always seem hesitate like a midget taking on a heavyweight. Then she has me down in with a line like limbo, killed the last chunk of my ego, traits left me feeling incomplete…Sisqo, so I took my nice guy attributes and threw them out the window.

ASlightlyEloquentPlea

There’s this girl I know…
I think she likes me…or that’s what I’m being led to believe.

Like when she yells at me, it’s like she’s saying she loves me!
When she says I suck, it’s like she’s telling me how much I mean to her!
And when she makes fun of me, it’s like she means the opposite and she’s actually giving me a compliment!
And when she hits me, it’s like she’s saying that she doesn’t want anything hurting me!
But then when I think about it…it doesn’t make any sense. And at the same time it does because that’s exactly what I’ve learned every time I try to understand girls.

They say that words can deceive but the eyes don’t lie.
But so far…none of her words are even in English and I have less than a basic understanding of body language or of love…so I can’t even begin to believe I’ve been swindled. And there’s no fixing the misconceptions that are stuck in my head because I really think all of it means she likes me.
Or at least it did when we were in kindergarten.
Though for some reason, it’s like we haven’t matured in a decade with the way this girl keeps beating around the bush. I can’t stand all the thinking about what this or that means…because no matter how hard I try I don’t understand any of it. Like when she says yes, but in the end it’s actually a no, because for some stupid reason she can’t go.
And you might think I’m being paranoid, but when it happens more than once for the exact same thing then it’s about time lights went off.

The thing is...I'm a guy!
I don't do subtle and I can't decipher all the little things you want me to see!
I just want you to walk up to me with a:
"Hi. I like you. Not just like you, but like like you, like a simile but more like a metaphor, because it's kind of hard to understand, but I really think we could have something...and I don't think any of that made sense, but I just wanted to get it out there."
Or maybe even a little note that says Do You Like Me? please check yes or no.
Anything straightforward, I'm cool with - because my brain isn't equipped to deal with this.
Is that so hard?

I mean, yes…I know I write all this complicated stuff I call spoken word, but that’s just so I can relieve some of it off of myself. Because you have to admit, if I walked up to a girl and just started saying all 4 minutes worth of a piece I wrote for her, then it would be pretty awkward. But I digress.

My point is…I’m asking all of you…please.
Stop making everything so unnecessarily complicated!
Just pretend I’m a caveman or something…Maybe even draw it out for me if you insist on being all girly and complex with it. But as far as I’m concerned, blunt it best. A giant banner would be even better.
I mean, we might say no…but at least you’re helping every guy out there understand what the hell you’re really talking about and what you want. Because if I’m like most guys, then we’re easily confuzzled…
So just say it straight. Thank you.

SickAndTired

You see...
I'm tired of waiting for that perfect girl to stroll into my life.
I'm sick of daydreaming about meeting my future wife.
I'm tired of spending my life in a corner, staring at the door.
I'm sick of looking at a girl and wishing there was more.

I'm sick of being nice, when girls like jerks.
But they always say they like nice guys...with a smirk.
But when was the last time you saw one of these girls with a nice guy?
Am I right? Or am I in for another damn lie?

I'm sick of being so damn shy.
I'm tired of messaging you and being anxious for the reply.
I'm sick of not being able to walk up to you and start a conversation.
I'm tired of being defined by procrastination.

I'm tired of having standards.........that's about it.
I'm sick of trying to be deep and write profound shit.
I'm sick of trying to come up with quick compliments.
I'm tired of sweet talking my way to prominence.

I'm tired of seeing cute girls with ugly guys.
I'm sick of inner beauty and how it's not visible to eyes.
I have a whole lot of that, but it seems a waste to try.
I'm tired of these nice girls always passing me by.

I'm sick of girls saying "It's not the right time."
I'm tired of writing poems on cheesy cards asking "Will you be mine?"
I'm sick of Hallmark holidays like Valentine's Day.
I'm sick of having you on my mind every damn day.

I'm tired of looking at romance like a pipe dream.
I'm sick of thinking I need love to know what life means.
I'm tired of dreaming of the bogeyman as Cupid.
I'm sick of worrying about girls when I'm still stupid.

I'm tired of thinking I need to be perfect. I am what I am.
I'm sick of trying to do everything, but I do what I can.
I'm sick of wearing my heart on my sleeve when it's all frayed.
I'm tired of patching over the damage with a band-aid.

I'm tired of writing love poems, again and again.
Crafting each syllable with my mind and my pen.
Wishing She would read it, but I don't think it'll happen.
So I'm done with the love rapping and the lip flapping.

No more talking about rainbows and the pitter patter of rain on rooftops.
Fuck that. I'm sick and tired of reading poetry in bookshops!
I'm tired of expressing my "feelings" through something that only makes sense to ME.
I'm sick of giving voice to the words of my unheard poetry.

I'm tired of trying to make you see how I feel about you...through words.
I'm sick and tired of the way this world turns.
I'm sick of seeking understanding through a medium that nobody can see.
I'm sick and tired of being me...
But what else can I do?