Semi-Daily Scribbles

Carving out a corner to post random crap.

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  • Review and Reflect

    CorsageSaturn's had the upper hand these past three years. All sharp edges and rock hard resistance. Walking (and waking) would've been a hell of a lot easier if angles curved and moved out of the way. Surfaces have simply refused to yield. You can tell how swell of a time it's been by my bruised ego and knees. I wear a corsage of might-have-been, should-have-bloomed roses as a reminder of goals that got lost in the clouds.

    Be careful:   Sometimes our best chance gets pushed into a corner.
    Beware:       Sometimes dreams really do fly too high.

  • Pre-order

    ApplySo, if Myra appears somewhat dowdy these days, does that mean she's writing? Hair's gone natural, middle's thicker; the inside of her closet is black and blue. The clues all add up. Myra’s derrière has reacquainted itself with the desk chair. I believe a book is brewing. Somewhere out there an agent sings ecstatically the praises of Calliope.

  • So Says Nature

    image from http://theresalargusa.typepad.com/.a/6a01348084d007970c01b8d129c01c970c-pi


    IMG_7080.JPG

  • flux

    Fluxspeak if you must but keep any messages tucked up under your skull. today is not a day to let one's tongue off the leash. restless, reluctant, and generally redundant is the emotional forecast for the week. what's been coming out of your mouth is a poor imitation of sincerity, and all your sensibilities are in flux. it's not enough to have good intentions. this situation of the heart requires a less hesitant touch.

  • Phantom

    Phantom

     

    The Invisible
    Seen only in the right light
    Sets one's heart aflame

  • Defense Number Nine

    In My HandGot another reminder today to get off the fence. That makes it Sign #9 for the week. You see, I'm stuck between decisions, i.e.: new road/old road, challenge/piece of cake, money/memories. I'm also wedged in pretty tight between this big blue sphere and The Void. So, yeah. Hop on off that parapet, say The Forces That Be (to whom I seem to be beholden.) Feeling sluggish and exhilarated and weirdly content. So much to accomplish and each step is a source of dread. What is that about? Is further endurance required? I'm twirling a sopping wet towel above my head and there are rings within rings at which I can aim. Too many targets but they all add up to surrender in the end.

  • Simulation

    Goofy

    Previously…

    A believer in signs, I am. So Universe, send me a sign that my existence is all in my mind. Give me a little nudge that life is a figment of my imagination. You know I got one of those. If reality is a maze, or puzzle, or computer simulation to figure out, what is the prize if I win? I guess you'll have to send me another sign to tell me I won because there doesn't seem to be much difference between victory and defeat. At least not in this game. Are you having a laugh at my expense? That's fine, but help a girl out, will you?

  • My World

    My World

     

    side by side
    we watch the neighborhood buckle and bubble
    all sorts of trouble is in the making
    shift and slide
    we used to know where to hide
    but now we wear our tarnished hearts
    on the outside
    our desiccated souls
    rendered thus by pride

    Midnight, stark and starless, makes its move to renounce the light.

  • xxxooo

    SupplementGen X here and I'm not grumpy. I'm happy we're no longer a hot topic of conversation, although I understand many of my compadres are now referred to as sandwiches. The way I see it, there are lots of people older and younger than I am who do a bang up job of chasing after spotlights and seeking relevancy. I wholeheartedly support their choices. And now we've come to it: Choice. I choose simple and less. I choose oatmeal and books. I choose to be thankful as I type these sentences and feel at peace that today's little riff is mostly nonsense. The fact that I am incredibly lucky to have a roof and loved ones and a small furry mammal is never taken for granted. Gratitude isn't sexy but it keeps my head screwed on properly. It doesn't matter what letter or label is pinned to your chest. Gloom just isn't part of the deal.

  • Hot Potato

    TubersWhat Edwina did was write a 19th century-style novel praising the CTW and readers never noticed or didn't care. The easily impressed and highly enthusiastic masses cried: This book is amazing! However, when one's main character is emotionally dependent on others, intellectually incurious, and ill-equipped to think critically, we may as well root for the potted dieffenbachia in the corner of the protagonist's living room. Meaningful, thought-provoking narrative does a body good, but it also seems to be an acquired taste. Life's bitter moments often teach us a more valuable lesson than the sweet and quick fix of a happy ending that goes down smooth as butter. But what defines 'happy?' What is 'The End' and how does one get there? Why the hell, in 2015, do we cling so tenaciously to gender stereotypes? Don't bother asking Edwina.