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 |  A Blog of ramblings from yours truly.
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It’s simple enough to do And nothing at all to prove Just got to find your Swoove. Hold a little shrub in your fist Add swoops with a flocky wrist It can be great even looking like … THIS!!! It’s simple enough to do But please don’t use your pooh Go find what truly moves you! Participant/Member: "Give It 100!"  [13+] "The Soundtrack of Your Life" [18+] "Welcome To My Reality Forum" [E] "Anniversary Reviews" [E] "Newbie Welcome Wagon" [ASR] "Superpower Reviewers HUB" [E]"Weekly Goals" [13+] "The Book Club" [13+] "WDC Addicts Anonymous" [E]"disABILITY WRITERS MOUNTAIN LOG CABIN" [E] "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" [13+]** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
**Insert Unavailable; Upgraded Membership Required. ** Facebook is not a good word processor when not on my computer blessed with Lazarus (form saver)... This is the second version of this spontaneous poem that should have been written on Writing.Com and not on my FB wall. I am slowly getting sick of FB. |
| I'm not feeling well as you can tell by the typing in this post and how its not very good or that i am not even proofing it. I hope that all is having a nice winter and that you aren't so far into the future waitng for summer that you can't appreciate the present. i know it's cold but it's just a sensation. bundle up and you'll feel less of it. i know it's not the best and brightest of the seasons but just take it for what it's worth. a season of necessity for plants, animals, earth and everything else that we take for granted. |
| This is not the best blog you've come across, so please leave now, if you're looking for amazing bloggaliciousness. I am not going to offer that. This is a personal log of life's lugs and tugs and mugs (maybe I'll post some photos soon...maybe). I don't stick to challenges for long if they don't hold my interest. I don't met goals that I'm not fully into or committed to. I haven't figured everything out in my life, and don't pretend to know how other people should figure out theirs. I am here living day by day, moment by moment just like you. I'm not perfect and I don't make myself out to be something that I am not. I am not here to get published. I am here to thrive. Sometimes that's deeper than superficial fame. Sorry, but I had to say it. |
| Today, I am owning my desire to write and finish and publish and share the world over my poetry. I want to also publish a coloring book. And a short story if and when the sparks fire. I want to do and have all these things and I am banishing self-doubt and fear that keep me from drawing/writing/doing these things. I have nothing to lose but accomplishment, and that's a great feeling to strive for and obtain. There's my goals and I will .. I need... I want... I have to stick to it. Brick by brick, step by step, task by task. Life is Plan, Do, Complete. Next! |
| Video Will you still love me tomorrow? Sounds pretty dead and gone already, even while all the singers, original and covering ones, were still breathing. Takes the optimism out of romance, in a way. Like, it's as if we need to keep second guessing and questioning the other's intentions. What happened to love? REAL love. The kind that blindsides you and you can't help but treat the other with compassion and kindness and goodness. The kind of thing that money and power have no pressure against or sway with. Where is that love? I am really getting sick of being in love, the fleeting temporary bologna that even Oscar Meyer would scrunch his nose at. And Boooy does Amy sing. Soul. Feeling. Powerful emotions. Love. It comes through her voice so amazingly so, that it always elicits the same sigh that escapes me when ever I hear her voice and well... I question what beautiful songs she's made and what beauty we've yet to make due to her absence today. @!@#$%^%&&* Another thing, I can't seem to focus on reading or writing or drawing anything other than puzzle games. And sleep. And ... well IT's getting rather annoying. I can't even enjoy my re-union with my yoga gym. IT's a crying shame. I am in the middle of watching JKRowling's lifetime movie, some ARCs and some books that I should be reading for WDC's REading Challenge. I got my nails done and it's a little strange to type at the moment. So I'm going to go to sleep now. |
| I won't make you love me This ain't the 70's And far from fantasy ... |
| "I will not make you love me" - Says me at the conclusion of every single past relationship. Pattern Noted. Note to self: Stay Single. |
| Wandering Sweet Dreamer No one who knows me knows that I have hidden secrets. I feel like I am like an open book. But daily I find myself hidden behind various masks. Sometimes one over another, each hand afraid to release a comfortable niche or habit that I've come to live in. I have grown up with these, and have become a woman of mystery. I barely am able to say that I know myself. But from my High School year book a few nice people wrote that I was a sweetheart. So I am going to pick the Word sweet. I have struggled for years on what reality is, and lately it reared it's ugly supernatural/psychotic head to me. I am medicated but for what cost? Literally, I am covered completely for now, but for how long? That's where the dreamer part comes in, although, I have been caught Zoned out before when young; and have definitely felt spaced or drifting above the passing of time and whatnot. Dreamer, I am. Yoda, I'm not. ;) And another struggle has been finding my purpose in life, and this is not an easy thing to talk about without getting emotional and that would just not do for this entry. Death is supposed to be light, and fluffy like being on a cloud. I made that up, but it sounds pretty damn good. |
| thinking of the recent blood moon lunar eclipse and inspired to write something from it. Lets start with a poem... |
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