Well this is an odd thing for me. I often ramble. And I tend to use my blog for two reasons…. either to rant or to “advertise” my writing. So I probably am an odd duck on here. I do not follow the normal way of things. My writing follows language rules and grammar rules. However I am not one to follow the rules of what is politically correct. I by my nature am terminally blunt. That tends to come out in my writing…
My blog has taken a bit more random feel as i am trying to write on prespecified topics as well. I enjoy comments because it feels like someone is interested in what I have to say. Since I have started doing this blog I have found a reason to write more than I did before. And I feel guilty if I am unable to write that day.(usually I end up finding a way. I can’t sleep until I manage it).
Category: Self esteem
Happy Valentine’s Day.
Sappy holiday wishes to everyone… yes even you the unloved. You actually aren’t, but especially around the holidays, any and all holidays… it often feels that way. Or it feels like you are unlovable. Either way it means a miserable day as everyone around you speaks of family and loved ones. While you just seem so very alone. If you need someone… don’t be afraid to reach out. Very likely another person you know is alone.
Honestly i dread the time begging around Thanksgiving and ending around Ostara. Not because I don’t enjoy the holiday( even if there is a buttload of them crammed in a four month span). I dread them because the members of my family suddenly expect me to socialize. So it feels forced. I don’t hear from some of them any other time of the year…. most of them don’t have a clue anything about me (likes/ dislikes, etc) but because of some overdone holiday…. eh well i believe you understand. So i end up depressed. I end up questioning everything. Then I end up considering others who maybe feel the same way. Well this year… it resulted in me reaching out. Please if the holiday is too much… call someone. Go see someone. For there is always someone who loves you, whether you realize it or not.
Never give up..
Dreams don’t die, we give up. So if you never give up….eventually you realize those dreams.
Body positivity
This topic is one i fully support. Now understand, even though i am a big girl, it’s all bodies and body types i think we need to be positive of. No one should feel ugly for not fitting a certain body type. Unfortunately, as a society, we fail our children. We teach them to worry about appearance far more than we should. There is starting to be a movement that is helping. Tess Holiday and her #effyourbeautystandards. However many see it as a fat positive movement. While yes it is, it is also about beauty in all forms. It’s about no longer judging anyone based on appearance alone. My daughter is twelve. She is chubby. And so I have had to work hard to have her with a good self esteem. She really is beautiful.
However because of the beauty standards of others, she doesn’t feel like she is. So yes, as a woman, as a mother of a beautiful girl, I really like the body positive movement. Every body has flaws. Every body is beautiful. It’s really all in how you look at it.
Madness is subjective
Life has a funny way of pushing forward, no matter how we want to stop and reevaluate. I have spent a significant portion of my life considering sanity. Afraid of being mad, and trying to prevent that slide into deeper pockets of madness. I joke that I am as sane as I have ever been… but to be honest I am not sure sanity is something that truly exists. I think as a whole the human race has slowly been decending into a state of madness. We put such a stigma on it. Just in America there are millions who suffer….yes millions. a statistics site about mental health. So why do we make these people feel worse for their suffering? I think it’s a form of fear. We fear what similarity we see in them. So we push it away. Instead, we should try to understand that which drives the mind down such different paths.
Individual I
Blending in,
For now everyone
Has the traits
That used to mark me
As unique.
My idiosyncrasies
Are now community,
Nothing new or remarkable
In my mind today.
Was individual,
And even slightly weird,
Now everyone does
What i began.
So now i sit
And slightly sigh.
For looking around,
And dreaming that I
Could return to the time
When I was unique
Just once more.
The difficulty of historical accuracy
My work in process, Elizabeth, is split between two different times. The first is 1494. Now i can keep it historically accurate. I have done the research. However, I am running into a flow issue… as well as a language synaptic issue. I know where i want to carry the story. It will be a romantic adventure circling around two women in the same family a century apart. I have posted the first chapter. I have chapter two written. It’s the third chapter where things fall apart.
. I wonder if it would be better just to write the story then go back and edit the language. I am not sure I really want to have the complete historical accuracy anyway. The language back then was extremely dry and wordy. Thus far I have only kept a slight accuracy. This story has been a W.I.P. for over 20 years. It would be nice to finally finish it.
Homeless
There’s room at the inn,
But I have no money to pay.
The world is cold tonight,
And I have no place to stay.
No I am not lazy,
Nor too awful crazy.
Things just really have not
Been going my way.
My stomach is a growling,
My head has been a spinning,
Yet not a bite can I find
For me to eat.
No jobs available for me to find,
Want a hand up?
must be outta my mind.
There’s room at the inn,
But I’ve no money to pay.
Searching within,
Trying just to see
The worth in me.
Silencing the voice
Deep within
Telling me,
Each and every
One of the flaws
Lest i forget.
Some days it’s easier
Some days i fail.
Still each day
Awaken and arise
Each day i search.
Never giving in,
Never giving up.
Someday the voice
I will cease.
My own worth
I will see.
Distorted imagery
You see me
As internet celebrity,
With no sign of lifestyle
Truth in chains.
Not one person
Really knowing me,
Hidden behind an easy profile.
According to you,
Written with naught
But imagination and lies.
Could it be?
that it’s you who
doesn’t see?
Who does not know
The real me?
quietly hiding,
From what you never
Tried to see.
Deeply imbedded
Within us.
Pattimouse 