If I awoke today to the news that I had no tomorrow to look forward to, how different my voice would be.
How different my day would look.
How I would hold my mother’s hands and thank her for her love, her humor, her light. How I would tell her, again and again, that all is forgiven, all is forgotten and that if I could have chosen anyone else’s star to be born under, I wouldn’t. (more…)
The truth is, I could have been over this by now, but I haven’t chosen to be.
That is a whole bucket of truth, right there.
I am unsure of what magic key I am missing. What delirious scent of truth is bypassing my senses, what spark it is that will ignite the final piece of not being in pain. But I know that it is there, and I haven’t chosen to see it. I haven’t chosen to accept it. (more…)
It’s true. I admit it here, and with fervor. I am not living up to my potential. The life that I though that I would be living is not the life that I am living.
I am not self sustained on the gifts that I have been given. I am not making the most of my natural aptitudes, I am scraping by. It used to be enough. It is no longer enough. (more…)
My dearest, most tortured body,
For the way you rise to my command, I thank you. We travel so many roads, you and I. From the mundane to the spectacular, your scars and curves and injuries and grace follow. Your grace. (more…)
I have a problem.
Well more than one, really. But this one centers around a seat and a lid. It’s attached to my toilet.
I have a clear, lucite toilet seat, in which are suspended dozens of tiny, rubber duckies. It is cute as hell. It was made for kids. It slides off to one side when I sit on the toilet, tossing me off to one side or the other. Often in mid-pee or mid-noneofyourbusiness. (more…)
Thank you for all who asked, answers from the neuro are coming. Nothing yet.
I am trying to put words to a certain amount of frustration I am currently feeling, over things that I am entirely too pragmatic to put on blog. I do actually have the ability to be pragmatic, go figure. (more…)
Witty repartee aside, having a big ass is a difficult thing to contend with. Period.
Having a big ass is an especially egregious offense when inbetween sizes and in the process of making one’s ass smaller, but still sitting squarely in the camp of bah-BAM! This is in no way a slam on small bootied girls, and in no way a social commentary on our standards of beauty. (more…)
And I am afraid to close my eyes. I sleep in fits and starts, intervals of peaceless awake. Peaceless asleep. Terrors imagined, terrors past, terrors not to come dance in a sickening ballet in technicolor. My dreams, a bloody stageshow. (more…)
The odd amber color of his eyes. The way they didn’t focus when he grabbed fistfulls of my hair and made me tell him I loved him. The first slide of the knife. How I left my body, and floated above. How I begged him not to get blood on the dress that my mother had worked overtime to pay for. The sickening crunch of my knee when it made contact with the pipe from the sink, the way my dancing shoe left a mark on his cheek when I raised my leg and kicked him. (more…)
She is brilliant and funky, and edgy and funny. She has high blood pressure. She is young.
It’s no secret that the world we live in is more fast paced than ever before. That we face special pressures, unseen before. That we eat on the run, drink our fair share of caffeine and don’t always find time to take care of ourselves the way we should. (more…)