The randomness of Tuesday. A thought process, a method to the means, if you will, of which a daily plan is born. For me in two hours it has become the randomness of a rainy day. Can you pickle a brain?
Random thought #1: A comment from yesterday’s outing still lingering heavy on my mind. “One person cannot make a difference.” “Since when?” my brain responded. The comment was from a youth in our fair country who believes this. “Sad,” I thought. Guess they did not catch CCN’s hero episode. Where these not all one person who choose to make a difference?
Get your minds out of the gutter. This is just a short snippet, a let me tell you sort of thing. I know many of you are in the final hours of NaNo so I’m going to be kind and keep this short. Aren’t you glad?
Besides today is cyber Monday and we all know you will be scouring the web for that one true deal. May the cyber force be with you and the FedX man bring you undented boxes.
The past couples of months have been extremely hard for me. Personal demons, soul aching and then I got a traffic ticket. At one point I could do nothing but laugh until I cried, that did not help. Do you know the song “Can’t always get what you want?”
At the last minute I have decided to participate in Jeffrey Beesler's Early Bird Thanksgiving Blogfest. Hop on over to Jeffrey Beesler's World of the Scribe to read the rest of the thankful stories/lists. So let the appreciation begin.
When I look in the mirror there I see a broken reflection. The image of fused pixels all forced into a blurry shape. Little spots of color, slowly melting together emerging as one fuzzy composition.
“Mirror, mirror, on the wall?”
Emotions have pixilated this image. Some obscured by the weight of the world, some self induced and some just left over paint, all blurring what now we see. Are we impressionist’s?
I want, I need, to inch my way back into our world of blogs. It wasn’t until I stepped back that I realized what a force you guys have become in my life. Do you know what I mean?
The compassionate comments you left on my status post only solidified my belief in you. Your compassion and the homeless guy who returned the backpack full of money, only to be rewarded with more generosity have pierced the gloom. Through the darkness came a light.
I’m nowhere near conquering my crossroads and I have made strides during this hiatus. I’ll tell you more about that tomorrow, but I did submit my first short story to a competition. I know, depressed and I set myself up for rejection. Well you have to have a cherry on top of that blue sundae don’t you?
Like I said, I’m inching my way back in, so this is not going to be long. I did want you to know that your words…
Lifted my wings like a small breeze and allowed me to make to the next branch on my journey. Thank you! Compassion is NEVER over-rated.
Since I left you M.I.A. with music I felt it only fitting I inch back in with music. My first holiday wish for the season…
I don’t know if you noticed, but I have been M.I.A. It is a conscience choice. It seems a crossroads has been hit here in the world of rainbows. Soul searching, chasing shadows and hearing noises, is where I am. Have you noticed me M.I.A.?
Storm clouds have gathered, I cannot find my foul weather gear and my power just went out. A metaphor for my being right now, thus the self imposed hiatus.
I hope you will bear with me while I weather the storm, find my way and the words return. In the meantime I offer you music…
He crept in a window. Except for shadows, the room was void. Oak floors creaked as he slumped in the corner. There, among the shifting, sinister shadows he found his home. Drool oozing from the corner of his mouth came a snicker, “Here I will dwell.”
She walked in the door. A lifetime of memories was in this room. Heels clacked on hard wood as she simply passed the shadowy perch. Weak, lost in a moment, peripheral vision failed her. A sinister extremity of shadow goo brushed her bare arm. Tears welling in her eyes came a whimper.
I can think of no better tribute to our armed forces past and present than a musical rendition. Yesterday I watched most of the World War II mini-series on the history channel. What a leap from teenager to armed warrior. I bow my head and say thank you, I gladly place my hand on my heart when they play the National Anthem and I never forget what liberties I have because of you.
If you are a veteran or currently serving please except the small award above as my thank you. Now for your music.
For the rest of you normal, non-fighting folks, I have another award.
Last week I received this irresistible award from Ms Yvonne at Welcome to my World of Poetry. If you are not following her, shame on you. Ms Yvonne can take any situation and turn it into poetry. She also is addicted to sliding boards and music, so leave your speakers on. Thank you so much Yvonne. I was just happy to have you back on-line sharing with us.
I pass this award on to: Flying High In the Sky, she too writes poetry and needs some followers. Go give her a look see and tell her I sent you. Roland @ Writing in the Crosshairs. What can say if you do not already know Roland. A total master of depth and description, if he were a painter galleries would be fighting over his master pieces. Give him a gander.
That's it for today. The squirrels are mad, I got the leaves raked. My PC is acting like it has the flu so I'm keeping this short.
One of the first days of Indian summer, take a stroll. Dressed for the uncertainty of day she left the realm of safety. Was it, “Safe” she muttered, snickering in a smug sort of way as she pulled the door shut.
The sound of a door closing she knew well. That numbing sound of swish, suck, click and then, silence. Her hand lingered on the knob and for a second the thought of reentering crossed her mind. “Come on, this warmth won’t last forever.”
Today is the 115th anniversary of the X-ray, did ya know? Did ya know I have not one but two folders full of this lovely invention? True, I do, more is better isn’t it? Oh what stories these films could tell, have you had x-rays?
Looking back I sometimes wonder why I am not now a human glow stick? It is sad when one can assume an x-ray position with no outside coaching or instructions. So why have I had so many? What stories could these films tell?
Deviating from the norm, I feel as though I need to explain. For the past couple of weeks my mind has not been on writing or blogging. For this I have a four-letter word, pain.
I have somehow, in some non-memorable way, totally messed my shoulder up. Yes, to all the mothers out there, I did go the doctor. I received 4 shots and been put on ice therapy. Healing is occurring. Whew!
“Be still my child, do not move.” In the stillness of the moment she heard the warning but heeded not the words. With the flip of a hand, as if to say, “Oh bother,” she ventured on. One-step, two-step, forward was her progress. Yet, in the back of her mind the words did echo, “What do you mean be still, I’m on a journey?”
As she turned she could see the mountains from whence she came and recalled the laborious trek to where she now stood. A glorious trek full of visual titillations and simple relics, carried now in the small pack upon her back. There had been no need for grandeur or amassing more than she what she need, just a simple memorable journey. “Be still my child, do not move,” again came the warning.
To all you lovely followers, I have noticed the tremble in your words. Some due to personal strife, some due to electronic dilemmas, some are cursing NaNo and some of us are just weary from all the political rhetoric. So for all of you?!
I say thank you, I encourage you and I am calling you. Your kind words have again given me flight. I’m trying my best to pass back some cheer your way, in whatever cyber form I can. In return you have sent me wings. How do I top that?
She dreamt of storm clouds. Clouds of towering, bellowing shades of gray that escalate into oblivion and can overtake the soul. Ominous clouds of vision that darken all in which we see and in her dream she was longing for...
Deep within the realm of sleep, she sat solely. Eyes focused squarely on the distant horizon she watched as her dark clouds grew. As if on cue and sensing the wonder in her eyes, toward her across the sky the storm did ramble.
This Monday morning, I am in mourning. Sitting here I find it hard to string a thought into a sentence, a sentence into a paragraph and so on. My emotions are full of heartache, making it difficult to write. Have I lost my summer companion?
Being in such a fragile state I realize distraction is what I need, I crave. Distraction is of what I will write. Follow along if you dare but cohesiveness I am afraid you will not read.
What can I say that you will not find in the blog posts. I live in the state of "B's,"bluegrass, bourbon and basketball. I enjoy way to many things to include in a mere list. Those favorite categories would have to change daily, for I am always in search of new things.
Should this not satisfy your curiosity, just follow along. This is an on going journey.
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