%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |   All that remains: here in my afterlife as a 'mainstream' blogger, with what little I know. |
|
The Idiotic Ideate?? Formerly: New Zenith To Hell…(all started with arc as writer here from the trials of Rising Stars to Preferred Author to WDC Quills Best Poetry Collection to the falling action I feel now that settles in a white case.) Got to hustle to preserve the best of me before fully fading on that virtual horizon glowing more brilliant with each passing day to permanent nuclear winter. if people don’t get it, I don’t need to explain it. We kill all that’s beautiful before we question it’s purpose. So many people find it easier to think in the black and the white. God forbid you get lost straying in the gray. "Whoever fights monsters should see to it…he does not become a monster.” I’ve been to the abyss and back. Not so bad. The loneliest happy person you'd ever meet, when not the saddest person who needs to be alone. In an ever-changing world, we need to handle topics at the ready. If you roll over and give in to the narrative without lending a voice of your own, you might as well hand over your civil liberties. We have voices that should connect to true conscience and spirit for honest and open discourse. Why feel so redacted? Unify on issues and put drama aside. Open minds require complete objectivity. If none need apply, question the unbendable sources for answer. If you knee-jerk react to every issue lurking out there that clutches your neck, you fall victim to your own ignorance born from a life of apathy (no doubt) in pathetic cries of injustice. Just writing what I feel without the narrative-altering mind f---ing with my head. [MY Chorus] In your house, I long to be Room by room, patiently I'll wait for you there, like a stone I'll wait for you there, alone "It amazed me how truth was often suffocated in minutes, but lies were given sufficient air to breathe indefinitely." "You are all better than you think you are, you are just designed not to believe it when you hear it from yourself." ![Merit Badge in Second Time Around Contest
[Click For More Info]
Congratulations on winning the Grand Overall Prize in [Link To Item #2164876] with your beautiful poem, [Link to Book Entry #933358]. This poem really moved me. Great writing!
Rachel *^*Heartv*^*](https://images.Writing.Com/imgs/writing.com/writers/badges/group-Second_Time_Around_Contest-2164963_14.gif)    "...lasting art is never anything more than a mathematical expression of the relations that exist between the internal and the external, the self [le moi] and the world." -Jean Metzinger I'm in love with carefully chosen words, arranged just so, audible, edible, to inhale. I attempt to post new poems and epiphanies daily with some links to what inspires. I am legally blind with a rare, genetic form of glaucoma. I'm described as "end stage" after two successful surgeries, still subject to further vision loss. Cataracts complicating matters. Writing Can get strenuous but seldom deters what yearns to emerge, despite a documented history of depression and recently diagnosed ADHD and undefinable social disorders and/or PTSD. My recent poetry:
Sometimes epiphanies about my insights on writing and life and what goes on... Making sense of life is maddening. Why do I need to know, when truth may not actually exist? Learning to accept would be a better pursuit? Flailing about in my own mediocrity, hoping to bust out. I am visible. You can put a face with a name. I would like to see other writers, too. Fiction is what you write, not who you are. Reinventing myself. I couldn't continue on the path I was on and needed a fresh start. This time around I want to put the focus on writing and the world outside of this community as it affects my life. I realize now that I have been baring my chest a bit more, as when young. fake me much more boring and unliberated than the real me. A world arriving as silent as that blossom in your garden that I told you about... |
| Then, I stare at this dim Glass top adventure, Illumed in simulated light, Justifying nothing. Look. Pines soar straight up, One hundred feet From nose to sky. Why don't I witness? Because I can't see. Lay in my lap, Thermal creature. Free my mind, Adventure. Take me to vision, Because I can't see. Mind aches, eyes dry, Memory bleeds Onto the floor, My chaff castoff, exhausted. A garden blooms by inches. Wet grass gently bends Under feet; nimble, bare toes. But I can't see anymore. Painful to bear witness To what I once knew, What I think I know. I recline alone With this barren brood; Saccharin journeys Emblazoned On a once fruitful mind. Savage and cruel, Dark mystery awaits, Unlike the panorama Laid out, stretching, Ever changing, If I just set one limb Outside the fateful door. Idle still, Disturb not The wandering one, Sitting alone, Full of someone else's Documented imagination. |
Hope in the Margins/ No Ink for a Dreamer Those few fleeting moments of hopefulness: marginalized, incalculable, elusive; hanging on to get them back -- retuning, harmonizing, visualizing -- gone. What was I thinking about? Waiting for a moment that seldom comes. What does it look like? When will it reappear? Will it be standing by me and leave the moment I near? Retrace your steps. Where to begin? Live. Pray. Love. Return is never easy. I held her in memory. I danced with the notion. Fantasy. Ecstasy. Delusion. What child shall I be that you might witness? Smile. Wink. Fade. How shall I sing my lyric? Coy. Charm. Heartfelt. What will I plea? Time moves slowly; escapes too quickly. Throw the car into gear? No. Stop. Park. No joy for this ride. Shut in my shed, I fear -- those eyes I dreamt; the lips I desire, warmth never felt, cooling, colder. I lay my pen on the mantle -- no fire. I shred this paper. No ink for a dreamer. I was preparing myself for a cup of coffee and started to imagine how I might feel drinking that brew. Sometimes, it's the window of opportunity for some great inspiration. Other times, I idle in my thoughts hoping to unlock some mystery to life by jotting down the words that surface. But, I get stuck and just push forward. This is what I came up with (this time): I'm not worried about form, yet some of it helps with expression. Life is always uneven and if we try to make perfect in structure we cage our beast. I prefer to think it is tethered. And while I would prefer a disciplined monster, I understand his need to be appreciated the way he is...warts and all? We're not perfect. We can act like it. Hope others buy into the illusion, but it's only our delusion. Isn't it easier to come out with it? Rather be ugly than false, but afraid of how I'll be viewed. I'm flawed. I make mistakes. I want love and forgiveness. I never want to sit in judgment of another, put in a position to help them with their own delusion. Truth should be easy. But it can be indigestible. I know my flaws. I don't parade around with them like mustard on my face. But, I don't write these words in permanent ink on my head when there is so much more beautiful and right that gives balance to my life. Repurpose me. Shelter me. I'm here, full of love, life and still willing to learn. And the clock just keeps on ticking as if in perpetual purgatory. |
| It feels like we are a nation of PTSD (post traumatic stress disorder). When will it be enough? How can we stop the tide of violence in America? Is peace an ignorant, forgotten relic of a dream from our past? Why so much unrest in America? These spikes in our country's tumultuous times make us fret. Look at what our children can see on television, on the Internet. Are we supposed to live in fear? Lock all the doors and hide? I'm not the sort to be one of those gawkers or 'rubberneckers' at a freeway accident. Just as I am not likely to Google or tune in to news sources for details about the latest mass shooting or carnage. I get the gist from the headlines, teases and unavoidable cooler talk. I'm disappointed in how the media cold-heartedly disseminates information like subjects of a Don Henley song. And maudlin. Media is self-serving, even though they serve a purpose. Don't sit around a coffee table sipping coffee and shaking your head while taking a moment to stare at the camera as if you commiserate with me. It feels like speaking out as just one person goes nowhere. Seems like there's millions of message boards on the Internet, places like newspapers to opine. And most of us agree bad men will do bad things with weaponry that can be used to either kill or save us. We want it to stop but it doesn't feel like our government is able to enact policy or remedies. Protesting seems pointless, and sometimes, undesirable. We get no where. I've been on the other side of social injustice. Sometimes, I unwittingly provoke it. Misunderstanding, rising anxiety, no leaders to help resolve burning issues fester the minds that need a salve of education. Maybe we're heading away from democracy and toward a police state, as our country tries to justify the need for control in our part of the world. And yet, we are not as bad as some of the other countries that do exercise restraint and get push back way worse than here. I think our president could step up and address the nation on violence. It would likely be controversial and stir debate, because we want less government control not more. We need a leader to lift us, remind us to be strong. As parents, it's time to sit down our kids and have an honest talk about the world today. But too many of us can't wrap our heads around it. What to say? Assure them this is a great country with great opportunities. People are trying to take our freedoms away. We have to be steadfast in our beliefs, need to teach ourselves well, learn and remember how and why this great country was founded. Tuck them in at night, say a prayer if that helps. This is more than a bumpy ride. Strap them in, kiss them and hope for the best. We can never get down or blame one another. We should be checking on our neighbors, spreading good cheer. Don't lock yourself away. Lend them your eyes and ears. We lock arms and unify in our nation's core beliefs. What's unfortunate is we put too much stock in sports, entertainment, distraction, the latest fads and what a dysfunctional family like the Kardashians is doing. We are so obsessed with putting up walls that we've drowned out those things we need to pay attention to. Tear down the walls of indifference. Really consider the avenues through organizations that do good, spread peace. Even if it's through a local church. Participate until you are satisfied you are earning the reward for your freedom. Count your blessings while you're at it. Politics are cartoonish and divide. You almost want to ignore it. We have to push for change, for REAL dialogue. Stop letting government run over us with policy and support visions for a more hopeful tomorrow. Perhaps, we feel cut off, left out. Leadership is needed, too. Not saying we need more politicians, just more voices to unify and keep it real. Most of all, we can't let them wear us down. We cannot let hate become justified by those who carry out violent acts of any type. We need to come from a place of love and patience. If we tune this out, it doesn't go away. It only gets louder. Let's not become desensitized, as we nostalgically reminisce about a time when innocence was revered as greatly as our freedom. |
 Log in to Leave Feedback |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
In the Falkland Islands, internet is very limited and very expensive. The place I'm currently staying only lets me use it in the middle of the night, so when I have to get up at 3 am to check my texts (no cell service to the US here unless I'm on the internet) or WdC, I don't do nearly as much as I used to. 
I currently have 2 very long emails I still need to get to from several days ago. Anyway, I miss everyone, but I also miss sleep, so there's that. 
Have you spoken to the doctor about your vision problems lately? I know there are special glasses for it because I have to wear them to read much ever since the brain injury. It's part of why I now only listen to audiobooks instead of reading regular books. It took 8 years for anyone to diagnose it because I have a brain injury and while one might think it would be obvious to me that I see double, it wasn't. Partly, my brain does a fair job of compensating. But also, partly, you use your brain to realize and understand that the 2 images you constantly see are double vision and something you should mention to your eye doctor. Since my brain was damaged, even basic things like that can escape me. 
I never once thought to mention it, even with annual eye exams in the Army and an exam every 2 years at the VA. Though, in my defense, since it happens in something like 41% of people with a brain injury, it should have been discovered by an eye doctor much sooner. 
I know doing that activity is a CRAP TON of work. But you made a difference in lives, not just his, but for all the people he's reviewed since. 
Well done! 
