Semi-Daily Scribbles
Carving out a corner to post random crap.
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Category: Belief
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You showed up late but in time for me to know the wait is over. No need to move slower. We've been running after each other through different timelines. What a crime. No surprise that we'd have never made it to see another sunrise had it not been for the signs. An early grave. No…
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How are you navigating the world right now? How did you process the world in which you reside before The Great Dismality? This realm in which we find ourselves has always been all rough edges with cruelty to spare. And beauty beyond compare. It still is, and that fact either brings you comfort or despair.…
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HOMEWORK What comprises generational trauma?– Alcoholism– Death by Suicide– Denial– Depression– Drug Addiction– Lack of Education– Misogyny– Poverty– Racism– Rape– Schizophrenia– Silence Make a list of self-sabotaging behaviors.Procrastination. Analysis Paralysis. FoMO. Poor Time Management. O.K. With Being Not Okay. Stare / Compare / Go Nowhere. Cheerleader for Everyone But Me.Imposter Syndrome. Don't Always Speak Up…
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wedding bells sound the news your body's been foundscatter ricethrow the dicevegas resounds with tourist traps and vicewhile the tides rise along the left coastfishing boats are lost at seanow it's just you and meto navigate this soundscape without your discordant chords
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Sometimes it takes a kick in the teeth to realize the thing you were good at as a kid is the antidote to being:afraid, bored, cowardly, destructive, early, fretful, greedy, humiliated, indignant, jaded, kiboshed, late, misunderstood,needy, obstinate, puerile, querulous, recreant, sad, tormented, unkempt, vitriolic, wishy-washy, xenophobic, You, zombified.
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My boss gave her team the holiday assignment of declaring the Island of Misfit Toys plaything with which each of us most identifies. That's some heavy stuff to ponder during these days of candles, cookies and EoY merrymaking. Rudolph The Red-Nosed Reindeer is a stop-motion meditation on learning to love broken things, namely, ourselves. Or…
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The Glowing Rose is a tavern on the outskirts of town. Just past it, little over a mile, the road runs out. If a body were traveling through those heavily wooded parts, they’d see the border of another country soon enough. The old timers, though, have a hard time leaving their homes. “I’ve spent all…
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In Junior High (ages me right there using that term) we got to do work rotations in the school office. What a lucky day that was when you got assigned mimeograph duty. The cranking of the machine! Silky, glistening paper rolling out thanks to your labor!! The smell!!! Bottle that shit, man. Oh, the soothing,…
Semi-Daily Scribbles 