Monday, November 3, 2014
Wednesday, October 8, 2014
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Sorry to wake you.
But did I shake you? Of all things to manifest...to go bump in the night it's my thoughts that rake you?
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Me and my cousin were having an indept discussion on individuality and decided to challenge each other to an "I am" writing contest. My entry:
I am earnestly quite strange but I don't mind it.
I am a woman who struggles ambiguously with real life demons everyday and everyday.. I win.
I am kind, brokenhearted and observant of the menace that is society to our marginalized people; the ones that swim up-stream to escape a reality that they wish wasn't real.
I am useless. Because I fear the unknown like any other human. And because of my own wall of unpredictable behavior I stunt my growth therefore I stunt my purpose. Without effective purpose what else will you be?
I am a misfit. I don't like to be backed into a corner or told I can't do something so I will do just what you said cannot be done. Maybe I'm just stubborn.
Stubborn because I'm confident. Yes, the unknown is scary but when you are confident there is nothing "unknown" about what you are capable of. Regardless of what is said, it will be DONE.
I am a victim. The scars on my soul run deep and unanswered and I would be a fool to lie and say "I'm okay" when asked the arbitrary "How Are You?" on the eve of a day of loss.
So I guess I am a Liar. I bottle up the bad and foam out the good when it should be the opposite. But the bad always finds a long-term home.
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
Trends or fads, which ever you feel, come and go but not without consequence. As does the notion of change and the fear that maybe we aren't ready to face it. The endless quotes and songs that guide our woes to and from that place of despair YET we always reroute to find ourselves just where we don't want to be. What is it about the culture of doom and gloom that is so popular and alluring to even the most Socratic of poets and musicians? Is the shadowy places that lure us in with pity so deep that we never actually leave them, just get eternally lost within them? Are the comforts of conformity comforting you comfortably? Or has the danger of possibility broken that fragile spirit of hope. None of us can stand here and pretend to have the answers to amend the cracked facades but through gentle support, we can all stay together.