Category: self introspection

What do you photograph

They say that what you take pictures of is what you see as important. I remember the first camera I had. It was a cheap one that took 35mm film. That excitement of taking pictures…then I paid for development. The disappointment of the pictures were so blurry and disjointed.

It was enough to be a reason why I didn’t take pictures for years. That camera was a painful thing from my teen years. If digital ones had been available I would have figured out how to do more with them, but it was just not a thing. I could have used a Polaroid but they were expensive and I was poor.

So when my youngest child was born my friend bought me a new digital one. I took thousands of pictures of my daughter and her cousin. Babies are so good at looking adorable even if the one holding the camera is not good at the setting up the shot.

That camera was stolen when we had “friends” over for a Christmas dinner. But by that point I had a smart phone. So I kept learning about taking pictures.

Now I still have the random awful picture, but I have learned to accept that I don’t have to be a professional quality photographer. I take pictures of what I want to remember and when I look at the picture I have a memory. Sometimes I even have a good picture.

So, I ask you… what do you photograph? And are you any good at it? Or like me do you just have memories and the occasional good shot?

Answer the question

My daughter is actually too smart for my own good.

We were having a conversation and she got slightly aggravated with me. I know she probably phrased it slightly differently but the gist of what she said was that she had heard me tell her father that I don’t see him as the villain, and I don’t want him to be my hero. Her question was “well why the hell not? who rescues you?”

I don’t know how to explain to her that I don’t want to be rescued. I am my own hero…. and I tried to tell her that. She said that she had never seen me choose myself over them. I have always chosen the best for her and him. She said she didn’t understand. I chose the best for the best part of my life. How do I even begin to explain it?

She is my whole world. Don’t get me wrong, I love my other two children but I didn’t get to raise either of them… and then add in the two miscarriages I had before her. I can’t have any more children. I wanted a house full when I was younger.  I found having her was enough.

She always seems to know what to say and when I just need her to be around. She has such a delightful eclectic taste in music and an artistic bent. She is so empathetic and she has a definite view of the world.

So, she is my whole reason to want to be a better person. And she gets mad at me for not being selfish.

How does it work?

Wild Wednesday

I am now a week away from turning 49.

I never expected to see 30. I kept hearing as a teenager that I was going to have a heart attack before then….

So each year I am still in shock that I am still alive.

next week I think I will be taking a break. my blog will return the following week on Monday.

Tuesday Tunes

A day for me to discuss music

Lyrics –

Who will save you?
The voices want to end me
With words just like a blade
Cutting pieces from me
‘Til nothing remains, ’til I go insane
Eyes in the mirror that cannot be mine
Beggin’ this stranger, “Get out of my mind”
Fear overcomes me when I realize
It’s only me
I keep on screamin’, “Help!”
I cannot breathe, someone save me from this hell
Trapped in this fight, all I can find is myself
Alone in my mind, demons come to life (who will save you?)
And over time, demons come to life
Masters of seduction
And I like how they dance
Feeding my addiction
I play their game, another hit of pain
Eyes in the mirror that cannot be mine
Beggin’ this stranger, “Get out of my mind”
Fear overcomes me when I realize
It’s only me
I keep on screaming, “Help!”
I cannot breathe, someone save me from this hell
Trapped in this fight, all I can find is myself
Alone in my mind, demons come to life (who will save you?)
And over time, demons come
I’m not well, I wish I was happy
The world can’t help, ’cause this storm’s inside me
Still, I try, I’m tryin’ to change
But there’s something broken, fucked up in my brain
Partum my demons, there’s no reason
Part of me wants to be stuck in this dream, and
I can’t save me
I can’t save me
(Who will save you?) I can’t save me
(Who will save you?) I can’t
I keep on screaming, “Help!” (Who will save you?)
I cannot breathe, someone save me from this hell (who will save you?)
Trapped in this fight, all I can find is myself (who will save you?)
Alone in my mind (in my mind), demons come to life (who will save you?)
And over time, demons come to life
Who will save me when demons come to life? (Who will save you?)
Who will save me when demons come to life? (Who will save you?)
Who will save me? (When demons come to life)
When demons come to life
I’m not well, I wish I was happy (wish I was happy)
Demons come to life


My 2 Cents –

this is a hard time of year for my mental health. my birthday is the 13th and I am still trying to figure out how I managed to live this long.

Ideas for future projects

        Okay I have been trying to figure out what to do with my stuff that gets accepted to anthologies and the like. Serena has a volume she was putting things in… but I was not sure if it was even a thing I needed.

      You see I rarely send my stuff out. If I do submit, it is usually to my own publishing company. Not as a guarantee of publishing but instead as a decorative element for the Anthologies I am putting together. I don’t think that I have the energy to send my work to be judged.

    I may feel inclined to send in to one or two projects… but I don’t see it being a big deal. So I think that I want to keep a open volume… much like Anthology Alumni and then release it when I feel like it is ready.

The next volume like that is going to be Jotted Memories.

Wild Wednesday

The Concert.

Okay. I have had time to calm down. We got dressed up. We looked amazing. We were so excited. We get there and find out that Falling in Reverse would not be there. Okay, That is only one of the TWO bands we were excited about. TBH we had not really heard Plush so we were ambivalent about them.

The Concert was half an hour after we were told to be there. We understood that was probably to give people time to find their seats. But People were arriving already drunk and loud. The idiot on the other side of Joe was screaming and smelled of beer. The smell of Pot permeated the whole damn stadium. (Not that I mind a good doobie but it was overwhelming.) When the concert did start it was not the order we were told. Plush came out first.

They were amazeballs.

I need to stress that because of how bad the rest was. The woman in the seats in front of us kept standing up to record with her cellphone. The screaming idiot did not stop for the music. All of the extra noise and smells sent Angel into a meltdown. So we decided to leave….And that is when I realized the woman on the other side of me was sitting on my dress. I tried to pull it loose and she just looked at me like I was an idiot. I literally had to ask her to please fucking get off my dress before she let me move.

We finally had to leave – we had only managed to handle three and a half of the songs. The rudeness of people ruined what could have been an amazing experience.

I don’t understand why people cannot just sit and enjoy the show. I only wish we could have stayed. Plush was amazing what we saw, and I imagine Disturbed were probably Better.

Wild Wednesday

So…WordPress is complaining about space. I need to find a way to deal with Monday poetry without uploading more in the already full space…or I will have to change Monday a wee bit.

I want to do this without having to remove the previous uploaded posts. I will have to see what I have to do.

Wild Wednesday

Poets are expected to write love poetry.

Today of all days I feel like I am out of place.

My boyfriend and I have been together for nearly all our adult lives…but we are not the romantic sort. He is my best friend.

His sister writes such lovely romantic poems.

I am trying to talk her into publishing them.

But for the poet who writes gothic poems or poems about nature more than love poems…today is an extra stress.

For poets write about love and romance, right?

I just want to say it is okay to be alone. I am nonbinary with Acesexual tendencies. Romance is not something that interests me…so why would I write about it?

Just because today is a commercialized romantic hell…You are okay even if you have not found that person yet. You are okay even if you never do.

Poetry and Interpretations

As many of you know I try to use Serena for my more gothic pieces. I posted the above in a poetry group on Facebook. A private one as I was not ready to share it. In my mind it spoke of finding reasons to live…Facebook flagged it as speaking about suicide or self harm.

I have had my poetry with Serena misunderstood before.

This one I wrote about the Dahlia Murders…and I was promptly told I was writing about the female anatomy.

I am saddened by the removal because I would have loved to have the other poets feedback…but I guess that was Facebook telling me I wrote something worth censoring.

Maybe Politics?

I posted yesterday on Facebook how blessed I felt. I had been invited to join a collective group of poet’s and artists. I said that I felt like an ant in a group of giants.

A good friend pointed out that without Imposter syndrome where would we be… Politics?

That made me laugh .

I am ill suited for politics, because the only person I can lie successfully to is me.

Still I shall enjoy the time spent amongst others who bend words so pleasantly.

(btw the art is mine)