LET IT BE...

I wanted to believe. As a child I believed in magical creatures: beautiful snow white unicorns hidden in lush green forests, fairies that slept in curled up leaves, and wizards that created spells to save the day. My imagination took me to places far away where I could escape and come back from my adventures renewed and cleansed – as if I gave my mind a much needed bath.

Unaware, I realized I have been trying my hand at make believe – yet all grown up. There are no unicorns or fairies in this grown-up game. Castles, Knights, and Dragons… oh my! Someone stop this girl and pull her back from the clouds, so she can learn just why she wears this unattractive frown!

Perhaps the fault is my own. We all have perceptions of how ‘we’ would handle things, what “we” would say, what “we” would do, how “we” would act. When others don’t follow the plot map we unknowingly designed and decorated in our minds who is really at fault? I find there is a very thin line between expectations and my own personal moral code. I’m not talking please and thank you as our parents should have taught us, but rather the act of being consistent instead of a poorly wired light switch that comes on and off. However, what I see could be just an interpretation of another person’s artwork. Isn’t that what we do when our feelings are hurt? We study the words or actions and come to our own opinion of what the artist really feels, says, does and why they do?

Today, I think John Lennon had it right: when in doubt, “Let it Be.” There is so much noise as thoughts fly around and around like a herd of disturbed bees in my befuddled brain. Sometimes the sweetest nectar is sitting back and letting it all… just be.

Hanging by a Moment

She said there was nothing to say. She sat there staring out at a blank surface but her eyes darted as if she was reliving a tormented scene. She shudders and laughs half smiling to distract us from watching the sadness covering the person we no longer really knew. She had shrunken inside her self and boarded up the doors. There was nothing left for the four of us to do so we sat there in silence. As time inched along, one by one everyone took thier leave. I sat there unmoving and prepared to stay all night in the silence. Quietly as if a twig snapped she began to speak. Incoherant mumblings about choices and roads. She asked if the pain would ever go away,as if I knew, but I said nothing. She began to demand he would come back alive, as if I could make his death dissapear. She looked out at the emptiness around her and said: "there is no magic. There is no perfect ending. Fairytales are fucked. Life is unexpected and often unkind." Pulling out his wallet now without owner she smells it... Searching for a memory. I tell her the only thing my sad mind is capable of offering: "life is about moments. Stolen beautiful moments, first kisses, late nights out with your friends, making love all night, dancing in the rain. Yes, it can be unkind,but the moments that steal your breath are worth the pain. It might not seem like it now, but one morning you will wake up and the moments will comfort instead of torture you. We get moments. We live for moments.

Happy Father-less Day to You!

Shela is twenty three and she laughs nervously when she talks and uses her hands to emphasize her stories. She says she never met her father or maybe she did (nervous laughter) but anyways if she did she was an infant and doesn't remember. She has another baby on the way and says her new boyfriend the second babies daddy is a great guy. She hopes he might ask her to marry him soon. She looks out the window as a small two year old plays with toy cars at her feet. She rubs her belly and smiles and repeats "yah this baby is going to be different now that we are all a family." Half convincing herself and half sheer hopefulness she laughs and asks "What about you? Did you have a great childhood?" I lean back in the puffy leather chair in the waiting room and glance over at the man bent forward waiting for a cue to say something. He had been sitting forward playing with his keys and hanging on our every word. He coughs and says "nobody has a good childhood." His matter-of-fact statement irritated Shela and she snaps "that's not true lots of people have good relationships with their parents!" Josh introduces himself to me and tells me he has a daughter that he visits when he can because babies mother moved away. He says he misses her and shows me a picture on his cell phone of a beautiful chubby redhead doll. He says Fathers Day "kinda sucks" because he won't see her. He doesn't talk to his own father much because his dad and him don't get eachother. His father always wanted him to be 'perfect' and Josh scratches his scruffy chin and laughs "guess I never measured up". Shela lifts her son onto her lap and says "I won't make my kids feel that way." Josh smiles "yah, me either" Then they both look at me with expressions that only mean one thing: 'your turn'. I shift uncomfortably and glance out the window as a only classic mustang goes driving by. I decide after a moment to offer these two strangers the truth, after all, hadn't they just opened up some honesty of thier own. Shela pressed "so what are you doing for fathers day?" It was such an innocent question as if someone asked "how was your day" but it felt like a doctor just walked in and told me I had a week to live. Josh leaned forward closer almost as if there was some sort of plack written on my face. "Nothing. I do nothing on Fathers day for the past eight or so years." Josh assumes my father has passed and offers his sympathy but I mimick Shela and laugh nervously. I say out loud the truth. Somehow I actually visualize the words coming out of my mouth and I want to pull them back in and shove them away where they can remain dormant and secret. My own little secret sad story just like theirs - only not real because I didn't share it. Too late. The words came out and the simple truth came out an emotionless lie so these strangers didn't feel sorry for me. "I haven't heard mybfathers voice in over five years. He's alive and I hear doing well but we don't talk. He has children and grandchildren that live near him so he's pretty busy which is fine because I'm busy too. I know he loves me though... I think he does... No,no I'm pretty sure he does. Anyways it's not that big a deal. Not really." lies. Lies to a room full of strangers. I didn't realize a tear came out till Shela touched my arm. It's a strange thing when someone you barely know sits quietly with you and allows you to lie. Josh sighs "yah like I said... Fathers Day just sucks!" Three strangers laugh in a stark mismatched lobby. As I get up to leave Shela waves "happy father-less day to you!" I smile and say "and happy fatherless day to you too!"

Memorial for the Father-less

The empty boxes sit dusty broken down against the wall and the sun streams through the window to show a quiet room filled with dancing particles in the light. Everything stacked untouched in a home where the owner is no longer breathing. Left behind is memories and leaves his hands robbed with nothing human to touch. He stands in a vacant home unable to box belongings cherished by a father who he watched gasp for breath at his bodies last attempts to resist exit in this world. Fathers Day has never become a more painful approaching day. No mother and now no father. An orphan left behind and not quite sure how to fit into this world. He looked like a beaten soilder coming off the battlefeild. His shirt is dirty and worn and his baseball hat he keeps removing and putting back on - an obssesive compulsive movement he can't seem to stop. He is looking for comfort that is lost and no matter how much he puts put his arms he can't quite reach. He stares at family pictures and tries to remember just who the hell he was suppose to be. He says "fuck" over and over into an empty space to keep from crying, screaming, or hitting something. He doesn't want to do this. He doesn't want to feel. He just wants Fathers Day to go away.

Another View

His hair was all the way grey and he spent his morning strategically combing over the thinning parts in an effort to make an older body feel like his younger mind. He choose to sit next to her, but only because he didn't like the idea of sitting alone. He wasn't planning on saying a word, but when a large sigh escaped her, he chuckled "My thoughts exacutly Miss" he held out his hand for an introduction. He saw the spiral notebook on her lap and although not quite on purpose, he had read the first few lines. It didn't seem right to him that a girl so young could be writing about sadness when beauty was everywhere. So choosing words carefully he suggested how precious life was. She looked at him and half smiled. Tucking her hair behind her ear and licking her lips she began slowly. "Have you ever been addicted to something, sir?" He tapped his breast pocket "Been smoking for years, so yep!" Then she said something that surprised him. She began to explain intoxication and how wonderful it felt to chase a high... Alcohol or drugs. She used colorful pictures of how it felt to let go and be in that time suspending state where nothing dark penitrates your space and how pain breifly subsides. Thinking obviously she was in serious trouble, he suggested a possible rehabilitation center. She was quiet and then asked: "Sir... Imagine that substance was a person. How do you check into rehab then?" he smiled relieved and couldn't resist bumping her shoulder "Ahh... That I do understand. You scared me there for a moment!" She told him he should be scared because a love drunk heart is absolutly more fearful then any substance you could smoke, snort, inject or drink. She explained her case with detail and honesty. How there are some people in the world who while you are in thier presence you feel drunk alive. You forget the things you know as truth when you are sober without them. She explained that the withdrawal was unbarable when you come down from the high of them. How you always know when they leave your system you will fall harder and faster then the next time and you will be out chasing your next big high. Her eyes scanned the room and then settled back on him "walking away and quiting what isn't good for you is the hardest most painful thing you can ever experiance." He thought for awhile staring at her picking at her chipped nail polish. Her funny little new-age hair cut and dressed up the way younger girls nowadays do. She was a curious thing. A vision of normal sitting in a plastic chair among the crowd. He smiled and reached for his cigerrates handing them to her "Well, shit lil-lady after that what the hell do I need these for?" she giggled a refreshing sound to break the calculated calm surrounding her. He places his hand on her journal and leans forward and says above as whisper: "I think everything walks into our lives on purpose. I think life is a beautiful messy dance and we all screw up the steps sometimes. What really matters is how we teach ourselves everyday to twist and turn lifes events, so we can enjoy the journey." he stood up slowly gathered his hat and his breifcase "It was beyond a pleasure to meet you and I can honeslty say young lady... You have made my day. You are a brilliant voice in this world. Try to look out the window more - it's a view of a bright-sun-shinny-day!"

Priceless Tools

He spends his free time rifling through his belongings. Those tangiable items that make him feel connected to something grounded and real. It passes the time and his thoughts become mechanical. He removes his baseball hat to scrath his head and clears his throat. One saw, a flat head, drill, sander... Methodically rearranged piles of meaningless meaning to a man who looks more like a little boy sitting on the carpet with wrapping around him Christmas morning. He lifts up his shirt and scrathes his chest trying to ignore the photo album on his roll away red toolbox. Careful not to disturb it's contents. If opened it would reveal a pretty little girl smiling in her best party dress. It would show him a life he choose to walk away from and the painful smile would cross his face and today, like tomorrow, it would be too much for his sleepless eyes to handle. One drill bit, a screwdriver, a grinder, and a box of nails. Left to right and side by side on well thought out stacks in the garage. The door opens and she peeks her head out with a smile. She joins him and sits as he goes through the ritual. Two bodies in a cold messy garage. He tilts his head and gives her his best goofy grin and sticks put his tongue. She laughs and plays with the back of his hair. She reachs out and places her hand gently on the photo album and stands still. "maybe you should go see your daughter today?" She says as the bright blue of his eyes change. She points to his phone on his hip and smiles. Standing next to him as he makes the call that's most days harder then breathing. One screwdriver, one paint roller, one hammer. Side by side and left to right... One man and one silly little girl stand.

The Pretend Life

She doesn't make all the right choices and the unexpected seems to find her at the weakest moment. She'll tell you she's logical, but the silly girl always follows her heart. Most of the time she's dreaming with her head filled with stories and hope. Her hopefulness and genuine belief of human kindness is her flaw. It's painful how often it leaves her silly little scrunched up face staring off at the sunset alone. The world feels like it's dancing past her, she says. A soft whisper into the cool empty breeze. Those fluttery souls around her warn her of the edge she approaches, but silly little thing keeps walking unaware. Her flip flops are broken, her shirt is wrinkled and her jeans are to faded to enter the ballroom. You will find her palms pressed tightly to the glass watching with a smile and awe-glowing in tear filled eyes. They are all inside the warm cherry blossom room, soft orchestra sounds, clinking glasses, laughing babies, and couples embracing. An orphan to the dance, but she still stands to watch the show. The pretend man comes behind her "I'm sorry you can't go inside" he says sadly. She looks over her shoulder at the darkness. She knows the scent of him like her lungs shudder to exhale. She breathes in the familiar comfort of him in and closes her tired aging eyes. She lies to herself again "it's alright". A couple opens the balcony doorway and she leans forward hopeful and eager to finally gain entrance. His pretend hand intertwined her fingers and pulls her back gently and with regret. He says into her ear close enough it's as if he was emerging from her "No silly girl- you know this dance will never be for you".

The Dance of Summer

There is a subtle sting in the air and crisp wheat field feel of rushing summer. There is a living painting that exists in a secret quiet place. In the distance an old barn nestled in a fading green field sits a lone with pink spray painted words “Better Days”. A long dirt road stretches out for miles and tumble weeds skip on a stage without audience. Behind a broken fence two horses nestle necks as shinny black manes toss in rhythm with the dancing wheat at their feet. An old blue Chevy truck missing a tire tilts up to sky mimicking the expansive bluish hue of the setting sun. A white meek ranch rambler house proudly sits with two wicker rocking chairs and laundry claims its title like flags flying on the line. The breathless flat dusty silence reminds tired eyes of summers past and “Better Days” yet to come.

Priceless Present Moments

I stopped writing… perhaps because of the quiet I needed in my soul. Words left me the moment he became a ghost. The written word became frightening truth serum when I so desperately wanted a lie. But as life often does… it throws in a random spin that wasn’t quite expected. The air shifted into folds of velvet and the crisp orchard air clung to us. As I lay in the emerging sunrise with my head on his chest listening to his heart beat and our fingers intertwined I sigh. Contented fear grips me. My head spins me forward to the plans, the logic, the ‘what now’. Shhh… silly girl. Just be. Surrender to the emerging light and float for awhile.

A Birthday Letter

Every year on my Birthday I write a little letter to myself. These letters are mostly scattered in boxes and boxes of filled journals in my garage. It always gives me a chuckle to think of those I love coming across a treasure chest of my scrabbled thoughts after I am no longer a body on this earth. Perhaps a bit strange , but it is a comfort to know my secret thoughts one day will be aired out between those I knew and cherished. The best way to know ‘me’ is through the words I scribble and the best way for me to find all the answers I seek is to stare at these ink filled creations and find out new things about the puzzle which is "me". Words are my greatest teacher. This year, I decided to do something new. I am publishing my Birthday letter to myself on my blog.

Dear Crazy Girl,

In two days you will be twenty nine years old and I am beaming. I suppose the way a parent must look at their child and sigh with pride. It is strange that this is the kindest letter I have ever written you, but I am so relieved we have finally made it this far.

I want you to really reflect on everything you have accomplished and carry it with you towards our next year. In this past year you have: left behind old ideas of how things “should be” and how people “should be”, quit smoking, exercise every day, eat healthy, you are actively conscious of your thoughts, actions, and reactions, and you are who you promised yourself you would strive to become. I am very proud you kept the promises you made to yourself.

There is always more to reach for and it's excting to see what the future will bring. I would like to see you do the following things this year: complete a novel, submit a novel several times to publishers, spend more time connecting with family, practice helping others more then helping yourself, be genuinely happy for others and all of there successes, make positive choices, and always choose to be less critical and more kind.

I looked at pictures of you as a baby and was amazed at the reactions of those in the photo around you. All these people standing around in those pictures taking an active role in that tiny bodies new moments. These little slivers of souls blended into parts of you and radiate around you. It moves me how children in photographs are always so genuine – they haven’t yet learned to ‘pose’ for a picture. I stared at the picture of this little girl looking up at her father and I saw love of real emotions cascading out of nine-month-old eyes. I saw a photo of a two-year-old girl looking up at her mother’s twinkling eyes with a new profound sense of awe and I saw a beautiful promise of devotion. That is the kind of beauty I want us to continue to connect with every additional year of our life. The other “stuff” in life is just “stuff”– but love in the eyes of a child is a love with out condition or expectations. It just is.

If a fairy god-mother came down and told me I could change anything in our past- I would tell her I would change nothing at all. I am overwhelmingly thankful for everything and everyone that has come across my path. There is nothing I would change - Not even the tiniest of detail. Without all the beautiful blemishes in days past... I would not be me and that would just not do!

Most important thing this year I want to leave you with is: Remember - I am always unconditionally proud of you. Happy 29th Birthday! Do good things this year!

Love,
Marissa

My Reflection

The state of your life is nothing more than a reflection of your state of mind.~ Dr Wayne Dyer

I woke up this morning with a groan that was cut short. As I stretched looking at the clock I realized that I was going to be very late to work. I slept in. Instead of my usual panic mode when I realize I am running late I just smiled and the oddest thing happened. I laughed. I didn't rush to take a shower or frantically search for clothes to wear. I just calmly went through a very relaxing ritual telling myself "I'll get there when I get there." Normally I'm not this flippant about being late for work, but I knew I was late and there nothing was going to change that. Rather then starting my day off rushing, worrying, and raising my blood pressure I decided to just "let it be." When I stepped outside I realized it felt like the kind of day that blends a mix of laughter, sunscreen, and sunglasses into a sizzling energizing potion. A familiar day - like last day of school before summer vacation. I felt giddy as my windows were rolled down and the music was up a little to high on my way into work. I felt confident as I walked around in my world all day. I smiled at everyone - and kept smiling... even to those who didn't smile back. It felt good. Today feels like freedom. A vacation from old thinking patterns... enjoy the moments. Just being.

A Precious & Rare Ruby

Most of us have a place we can escape too and for the moment the tilted world seems to have been righted again. Perhaps for you, it’s a home office, an overstuffed chair in a local starbucks, or a peaceful afternoon drive. I have a place where the heavy door creaking open floods me with an overwhelming sense of ‘home’. My secret get away smells like decades of memories with a dash of fresh herbs and spices. Imagine a place where anything can be said, every living thing is respect and cherished, nothing is judged, a live backyard wildlife show, and (as if that’s not priceless enough) you are served lavish food fit for a royal meal. My grandmother’s home looks like just another home on another street, but what you don’t see – is behind that heavy wooden door is a world that is allowed to just ‘be’. This extraordinary woman is one of the greatest teachers in my life. She isn’t being kind to achieve anything nor looking for award, or expecting anything in return. She enjoys every precious living thing; she offers her food and her home to everything from no legs to four legs and everything in-between. It is her home which is my ‘church’ and where I can always find solace and understanding. Sometimes you need to check into reality to see what really is. The truth is: it makes me feel really good about me… that I see how beautiful she is, because perhaps that means one day I can offer that kind of radiance to the world around me.

Flawed Beautifully- just me.

I danced on the edge of the world. I drank from a peaceful stream. Arms stretched to the sky with a determined smile. The dress I wore was tattered and shabby, but it danced around me in the breeze magnificently. The song sounded like the fall of leaves and the beat was the deafening sound of change. Every torn hem caught the sunlight and flowed with the rhythm of the ocean waves. It was the fabric which made the scene captivating. Each thread misplaced, each tear feathered, and each fray fluttering was surrounded by the glow and green of nature. Alone surrounded by everything alive was like waking into a precious dream. Awakened... owning the key. Flawed beautifully- just me.

No More Butts

Dirty Laundry very rarely gets aired and if it does it is unlikely it is ones whose laundry it is. However, being the unconventional girl I am, I feel the necessity to admit the truth that I have been keeping hidden in the shadows. Perhaps many of you already knew and decided to stand back and wait for me to come clean. So here it is… My big ugly truth is: I was a smoker and now I’m a happy non smoker! But why did I hide it? I wasn’t proud of my addiction and I didn’t want to smoke anymore, but I had somehow convinced myself that I couldn’t quit. Everything I kept telling myself was committing me to lighting up again and again- Life was too hard, problems to stressful, tobacco addiction are too hard to quit, and my favorite excuse “I will soon”, but soon never came. I consider myself a very intelligent person, yet I knew what I was continuously doing was STUPID STUPID STUPID! I was afraid without the crutch - I couldn’t cope, but the more I smoked the more I worried I would get cancer and die. It was a vicious carnival ride that never stopped, but went around and around making me feeling more ashamed and sick. Surprise, the more embarrassed I felt the more I smoked. I read an amazing book by Allen Carr the Easyway to Quit Smoking. It questions and answers the psychology of smoking. It didn’t come equipped with any miracle drug, no substitutes (nicotine patches or gum), but by time I finished the book I had my very last cigarette that I will ever have! I suppose the simple message in the book wasn’t something I couldn’t figure out on my own, but it made me question and motivated me to take a closer look at what I allow myself to believe. Now, there is no more hiding, no more feeling guilty, and grossed out with my dirty little addiction. Finally, it’s no longer a part of me. Aside from hopefully avoiding many horrible diseases it contributes too - The most important thing about conquering this demon was the realization that I refuse to hand over power to anything in my life I do not want there!!!

Finding a Way Out of the Maze

As a kid the movie Labyrinth always fascinated me, but I keep playing a certain line in the movie over and over in my head as of late.

“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to the castle beyond the Goblin City to take back the child that you have stolen, for my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great — You have no power over me.”

This movie is filled with great messages for kids (and actually some adults I know could also benefit from this cinematic adventure). Some of the messages are: not always believing what you see, about letting ‘helping hands’ assist you when you need it, the necessity of friendships and teamwork, the quote “everything is possible” is thrown out several times in the movie, and the ultimate message that nobody has power over you. Of course, as a kid, I loved the funny goblins and the David Bowie music but subconsciously that line of the movie has always stayed with me and every now and again I remember it.

Recently, a certain someone had me thinking of the movie Labyrinth and everything suddenly became crisp and clear. I saw him today… my shadow friend… and the stabbing pain of hurt is somehow gone. In-fact, as I looked at his face and he looked back at mine I felt a quiet. There is a kind of quiet that tells a once tender heart that the mourning period is over. It leaves composure as if the once treacherous waters have been stilled into a lapping lake. I felt sorry for my shadow friend as he walked away – then stopped turned around and asked if he can see me tonight. My reply was as simple as the turning of a knob that silently shuts the door of a sleeping baby. It was somber to see him standing alone in the shadows of the street while I stood by the car in the sunlight. The impression will etch itself in my memory forever: His tired face, wrinkled shirt that folded slightly up on one sleeve, unshaven chin, titled baseball cap, and the awkward stance of a man damned. “I really do miss you…I want to be in your world” he says. A wave of pity comes over me. “I know” is all I can whisper into the silence as I recite the simple words in my head…“Through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, I have fought my way here to take back what you have stolen, for my will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great - You have no power over me!!!

Playing with Puzzle Pieces

I don’t feel the doom and gloom. I know it’s lurking out there because I have seen it on many faces I pass in the shuffle of my everyday life. It seems many people are cashing-in and checking-out. Life is hard especially with the media reminding us just how unhappy we ‘should’ feel. However, in my little world something is different. I see the bills stacking up on the entryway table in my house, all the while, knowing that my position at work is shaky. I know that I have a lot of goals I have recently set for myself which might possibly be difficult, but some sort of shift took place. It was slight at first. The morning I woke up and didn’t feel like crying was the middle. The beginning was just one good choice I made for 'me' that snowballed into... what one can only define as... happiness? Nowadays, I just smile at the piling stack of bills I need to pay. I intend to pay them and I will, but right now I can’t so … I smile instead. Did I crack? Nope. I just changed. Eating right and working out use to seem like this huge mountain I looked up at but felt to afraid to climb. Now, I enjoy it – I can’t believe I wasted so much time not making it an essential part of my life. Losing weight is good for my health and the 13 pounds I have lost feels great, but there is something even more impressive I discovered. One night while exercising I thought “what other changes can I make?” and it inspired me to change everything else in my life I didn’t like! Like spring cleaning for the soul. If something doesn’t fit into who I want to be – I just throw it out! Gone! Just like that! This might seem like an infomercial on selling "happy" but indulge me a little further. I even changed how I felt about the people in my life who use to make me feel bad about me – FLIP! I smile at them too! Just like that! And what’s really fantastic is the changes I have made make me like this new girl more everyday! Like a puzzle – I am putting me back together – starting from the edges and working my way to the middle. “It starts with ME first!” it’s my new mantra!

My Mirror Friend

I'm really trying to focus on an important relationship I have neglected. I spent some time with myself today trying to become my friend again. I think somewhere along the way I forgot to be kind, understanding, and tolerant to the girl looking back at me in the mirror. I don't remember the last time I spent a day alone with myself, my thoughts, and calming household tasks. I discovered I actually enjoyed spending time with her. Perhaps the greatest failed relationship is the one we have with ourselves. If we don't take care of this relationship - no other connections can succeed. Sometimes in the simplicity of scrubbing a sink with a sponge in silence a friendship can be strengthened. Today for the first time, I smiled at the girl in the mirror and she smiled back and... she meant it.

Nothing Is Priceless

"I will not cry - I will stand tall and proud" She says outloud in the vacant space. She wears the clothes of someone defeated. Outside in the dark on a quiet street staring at the rendezvous spot she sat alone. Secret meeting of lovers in the middle of the night. It was the perfect night - the shifting breeze rolled across the shoulders inviting, and the bright Moon cast a glow across the freshly watered lawn. The crisp smell of the air was seductive. Only tonight, she was on the outside... knowing behind the blue door and down that hall inside that little house someone else was with him. With the sadest smile placed across her face she shook her head. She had been a fool. She just needed to know it was true. Like the bright lights of vegas - she saw who he was in one brilliant fragment of time. Images projected before her tired eyelids of laughter, stolen moments, places they had gone, and talks they had shared. A human connection shattered like glass thrown on the pavement. It was done. Choices. She was done.

He knew he was caught. He stared out through the window in the dark room trying to see the figure inside the car. He couldn't see her - he couldnt be sure she was in there- but he knew. He knew the way the nights moon knows how to cast shadows. Frozen, he watched as the car started with a violent hum breaking the silent calm of the slumbering street. She didn't see him standing there. Of that he could be sure. He can almost hear a whisper as if she is there in the room with him "The choices we make... dictate the life we lead." Some moments change everything. This moment would. Doomed - he would lose again. He has lost so much in his wasted life. Choices. He watches the car fade into the night and after a moment he turns - walking back down the hall . Walking through the bedroom door he stares down at the girl waiting for him. She stretchs out her arms to him. Choices. Laying back down he knows he will not sleep again tonight. This night would haunt him. Shadows would shift on the wall before him playing images of all he had lost. His own worst enemy... was his very soul.

The Reason Night & Day is Divided...

Perhaps someone offered me a pill and I took it and it made me see you in a different light or maybe I am just a silly little girl twirling around thoughts like a ballerina with images of pretty flower petals in my hair and beautiful dancing ponies. But, the how I got here doesn’t really matter. I danced on the wave of you and soaked in the sun until the clouds started rolling in and the rain started to fall. The text book manual of you is filled with descript condemning words like glass shards and tears – where all hopes and dreams go to wither and perish. The unwritten you – the tale you’ve made me see was so bright like a halo around everything so jaded. How similar the two of you are, the Moon and you – illuminating the sky surrounded by a veil of darkness it can not escape. I care so freely and love so deeply, but I prefer it to the silent emptiness of midnight nothingness. I will miss the thrill and the excitement of seeing your smile and the light surrounding you -only I can see. You do not belong to the dark night like the renegade Moon. You belong in a field of yellow flowers for miles, or shape shifted into the cool night breeze caressing the skin as a lover. I have lost nothing because I never really had you – you are preoccupied letting the nights sky own you. A man addicted to the pattern of the Moon-standing still and shinning only from far away. I risked my heart, but can not risk anything else for you. When the veil I wore was lifted and the choice became me or you... this blond girl whispers out loud standing tall in her silent damning victory barefoot on the porch “I choose me.”

Mind-Sick and The Bumps to Prove it!

I’ve been saying a little phrase – out loud and in my head “I’m allergic to my life!” These are very powerful words… in-fact so powerful that I have hives on my stomach and my arms! I thought I was being so funny and clever with my witty saying… and now it’s manifested its self to be true. The mind is a powerful thing which of course got me thinking… if I can create hives from stress what can I create with peaceful feelings? And isn’t this what the entire guru’s of the world have been saying? Did I really need hives to stop the negativity flowing through me? Perhaps I did! Most importantly, if I can believe everything will work out and I will be just fine… would I? Just a little lesson in perceptions and flip! I go over to the positive side!