7 Appeals to Moms from Women Without Children

This was an awesome read. Coincidental, as I just had a mini "dinks" conversation. I love my daughter A TON, wouldn't trade her for the world and I feel like I'm a damn good mom. I feel like I've managed to keep a balance of being a good mom and still being an individual, as well. "The grass is always greener...." right?

There is nothing wrong with living your life for you, as much as there is nothing wrong with living your life for your kids. I'm just always the eclectic asshole, that tries to do both. I will never withhold from my daughter, so that I may have more. Her needs and wants will always come first and I'll go without, if need be. However, I'll sure as hell work harder so that we both can have as much as possible out of life. She knows she's number one, but she also knows mommy is a human being and an individual too.

Antares

Eyes like a house without windows
Lips like a vault without a combo
Removed, reserved, recondite…
Completely locked down
No one gets in and no one gets out

Eyes like a child scorned
Lips like wildfire, ready to burn
Damaged, defensive, destructive…
Outrageous like a talent
If it goes down, everything’s going with it

We were short, sweet and simple
Scared, cynical and superficial
There was no need to commit
It was…just the way we needed it

There were lies in your eyes I didn’t want to hear
While the truths in mine, flooded me with fear
That sixth sense in my chest, told me to run
So I ran until we were done

No bad blood, but it still hurt like hell
I didn’t, but I almost severely fell

You took her; I took him
We built separate lives on a whim
They filled up our voids with toxicity
Taught us everything love should never be
Years spent trying to make the wrong things right
Eventually, we each gave up the fight

I left him; you left her
And then there you were
From the back of my mind
To right before my eyes
And still just as handsome as ever
Of course, I played it up like I didn’t care

That’s always the first line of defense
Biding time to find an air of reality in the pretense
Circumstances and denial
Kept it at bay for quite awhile

Fact is, I was undeniably being drawn in
By the exact thing that told me to run back then
As much as it was, it wasn’t at all the same
There was a different end game within its aim
A pervasive play begging me to stay
Even if I wanted to, it wouldn’t let me run away

Let’s test the waters then shall we
Come, sit down by the fire with me
Hours and hours passed like minutes
It was comfortable, complex, and candid
We found ourselves lost on a highbrow highway
As everyone else in the background just faded away

You sealed my fate before sunrise
With a kiss on my lips and truths in your eyes
The depths in which you swim with me, blow my mind
Connecting on every level as if it were a devised design
You compliment or challenge every aspect of my soul’s very core
You are the epitome of the love I’ve been waiting for and more

How lucky I feel; how thankful I am
To meet the love of my life…again
To be given another chance that night
To fall for you when our time was right

Inspiration...

KEEP. WRITING.

Ernest Hemingway: "All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.”

Isabel Allende: "Write what should not be forgotten."

Mark Twain: "Write without pay until somebody offers to pay."

Neil Gaiman: "Remember: when people tell you something’s wrong or doesn’t work for them, they are almost always right. When they tell you exactly what they think is wrong and how to fix it, they are almost always wrong."

Tina Fey: "It's a great lesson about not being too precious about your writing. You have to try your hardest to be at the top of your game and improve every joke you can until the last possible second, and then you have to let it go. You can't be that kid standing at the top of the waterslide, overthinking it...You have to let people see what you wrote."

S.M. Blooding: "It's okay to write crap. Just don't try publishing while it's still crap."

Sandra Brown: "You can only write by putting words on paper one at a time."

Raymond Chandler: "When in doubt, have a man come through the door with a gun in his hand."

Stephen King: "Writing isn't about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end it's about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life as well. It's about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy. ...this book...is a permission slip: you can, you should, and if you're brave enough to start, you will. Writing is magic, as much the water of life as any other creative art. The water is free. So drink. Drink and be filled up."


Source: anomalously-written

"People hate most in others, what they fear in themselves...."

Try making friends with your demons, instead of forcing them to hide. Maybe then, you wouldn't hate me, so much for mine. I control my demons; the don't control me.

I am open.

I am free.

Curtain Call

I’ve never had the delusion of becoming rich, or famous. I never did it for recognition or local popularity. I never let sex sell the art, but gave sex appeal it’s place within. Praise on performance, creativity, and choreography has always been an amazing feeling. While praise for the aesthetically pleasing qualities, has always meant so little to me. I never needed to be in the limelight. All I ever wanted to do was produce a show that would blow their minds and help water the community.

None of what this is, is what I once envisioned and strived for. Jaded people, creative differences, personal differences, third party restrictions….so many fights to constantly be fought throughout the years. Tired of muddling through to merely stay afloat, rather than having the opportunity to reach the full potential I once saw within the entity.

I am no longer here for myself. At all. I’m here for everyone else. Having the guts to pull the curtain is difficult, when it feels like you’re trying to get out of a long-term, mechanical relationship. Driven now by comfort and routine, verses passion and love, as it once was. At one time, it may have been an issue of identity and not wanting to let go. Now, it’s purely an issue of outgrowing the relationship and not knowing how.

Terrifying....

Nobel discovery opens window onto Alzheimer's disease

It always has and forever will blow my mind; we can figure out every aspect of functionality in the human body…except for the brain. The brain is so complex and unique to an individual, we don’t even know the etiology behind headaches. We’re hardly sure of ourselves, when it comes to the pathophysiology that has been documented. And we’re certainly, lost, when it comes to migraines and cluster headaches.

So, mental illnesses….good luck. Exactly why there’s so much damn trial and error. Neurons “misfire” is how I’ve heard several of the diseases explained. Alzheimer’s and dementia, are lucky to have SOME distinguishing factors, when they actually present diagnostically. The history of treatment for mental illnesses is brutal. Now, they just get shoved in homes and brushed off, while treated to “ease the symptoms”….for everyone else’s sake.

I wish I could have started college directly after high school. Allowing me the time to go to school for the 8 years plus, I originally wanted to. I want to be doing what they’re doing….

Furthermore, this hits home. My deadbeat and my grandfather both had it. The possibility of getting it, scares the ever living shit out of me.

Pragmatic Romantic

For them, it comes easy or not at all
They simply stumble, then fall
Fall into it all, so effortlessly
Love…luck…life; they walk along so blissfully
Complacent with their entire existence
It leaves us, almost…envious
For us, it better come perpetually perplexed
Otherwise, we show a complete lack of interest
We can’t help but inquire and wonder
Pick apart every explanation and blunder
I’m not so sure sometimes, if people like you and I
Are cursed or blessed by what lies within our minds
This insatiable appetite causes us to grow restless
Jumping in, head first, into anything that hints at this so-called bliss
But alas, we can only turn a blind eye in short stints
Until we question every single thing and the authenticity of it
I’m not even sure you are here, where I am
Maybe it’s just my head, conjuring up something meaningful again

"My love has concrete feet..."

Things like this. This is why my heart is heavy. I need to unload a few pounds now, so I can sleep.
Sometimes I think….I must sound so self righteous to others. So full of conceit, when I explain what I refer to as, “my curse”. The Fixer. The stepping stone. The scapegoat. However many other names, I’ve referred to myself as. It cannot be coincidence, that the two most important relationships of my life, were with men that bare so much in common. They are not the only ones to hold on and say these kinds of things, but they’ve certainly held on the longest.

It’s maddening….when you give someone everything you have and they simply try to take more….rather than trying to give you a part of themselves. I was very much in love on both occasions. What I feel will never be fully understood, is this:

Venomous acts of cruelty, spawned from insecurity, selfishness and jealousy…..WILL eventually eat away at a person. Never sated…it will eat right through to the decaying core. How can a person possibly love anyone else, when they don’t even love themselves anymore. A fine line between love and hate, right? Sort of…yes. It’s not, necessarily, that I ever actually fell out of love. So much as it was, becoming disenchanted with “love”. At the deepest level, every bit of love remained. The day to day brought about the superficial, the resentment, the anger, the fear and so on. Pride, (bless it’s sinful little heart), led to the disdain of being shamed. Know thyself. Know thy value. Bless my overly analytical mind, as well.

By the end of each of these relationships, I felt small. I felt unloved, undesirable and unworthy of anything more. I was saved by youth and distance the first time around. I was saved by experience, the second. I swore I’d never do it again after the first. Pesky wolves in sheep’s clothing. Silly lovesick little girl with the rose colored glasses. She’ll learn eventually. One day she’ll learn to see the fangs behind the smile. Minimally, approach with caution. Stay far enough away, long enough, to gain a headstart, when the smile slips.

I’m not even angry anymore. I’m just sad and perplexed. I should have been able to avoid it the second time around. When I finally realized the similarities….I tried so hard to explain how it would go down. I tried everything to prevent history from repeating itself. I told that wolf the entire fable….every last detail….about the one before him. I told him what I learned about myself. I told him what I learned about wolves. I told him I was unhappy. I even told him I was never going off path for flowers, ever again. It didn’t register. It didn’t click. It was viewed as some kind of scheme.
Little Red Riding Hood was never the liar. She never cried, “Wolf!” She was simply too naïve to escape her impending death in one version and too helpless to save herself in another.

The point is this….I want my knight in armor. Not shining. Dull, old, beat up armor. Shining armor is far too suspicious. There’s no going back to someone that’s been proven a wolf. I need that modern day prince. The one that knows and appreciates what he has, BEFORE it’s gone.

….and for him… I will make him feel like a king everyday. I sure as hell try anyway…..

Timing is Everything

I’ve been forced to be strong, my entire life. I’m quite proud of who it has made me, actually. However, it leaves me lonely. A strong, smart woman, with a ton of life experience…makes for a very, very real, reality. It makes happiness and satisfaction in love, difficult. It makes “all or nothing” the only option. It makes each decision, an analytical escapade. It makes for a heavy heart, with each bond that has fallen apart.

So, I remain within the void…in the black hole purgatory. I smile and laugh, when I want to cry. I go out and keep busy, when I don’t want to get out of my bed. I make a happy memory, when I am incredibly sad. I dive deep into another’s ocean, while they wade in my shallow end. I walk away calmly, when I know I’m being played for a fool. My mind is beautiful, but torturous.

Therefore, if I fall weak in your arms, if you have to wipe away tears, or console me…you should know…you have me. You have all of me…every little bit…even the parts I don’t like. Vulnerability is not my strong point, but I sure would love to be free of this armor, indefinitely. I just can’t. Not until I have that one person fully and them, me. It just so happens, the instances in which that has happened, we were on completely different timelines.

Freedom

Free from the person. From a bad situation. Free from love...from hate. Free from the resentment. Then one day, the last binding tie gets cut. There is anything, but a sense of freedom. There is only sadness for a bond, thought to be boundless.

We grieve the living, so differently than the deceased.