The Bible Says Life is But a Vapor....

"The wind is blowing forward, forward and forward.  Out of this day, into the next, out of this week, into the following one, and from this year into another.  Try as we might to hold onto the sycamores, and whatever familiar landscapes surround us, gradually we lose our grip and are swept forward into a river of tomorrows."
                                                                                                          -----Herb Benham, The Bakersfield Californian


The Bible says that life is but a vapor...


Today is my birthday. Born on June 26, 1947, Cedars of Lebanon Hospital, Hollywood, California. It's not a particularly happy day.  With Robby's death and all of the emotion that has preceded today,  I don't have much room in my heart for celebration.  Life does go on, people will continue to go about their daily lives.  Babies will be born and others will pass - continuing the circle of life.

The Bible says that life is but a vapor...  

I look back over my life and think I've done so little with the talents I have been given and it makes me sad. The last ten years have gone by so quickly that, if I survive ten more years, the time will be here before I realize it.    But my life is not yet over, and I have the gift of time to make someone happier, make someone laugh, ease someones pain.  It's within me to do these things.  I can begin to paint again, enjoy the things I used to love doing with my hands.  I want to put my toes in the sand, listen to the ocean, plant flowers, enjoy the smell of the earth while getting my hands dirty in the garden soil, listen to music, watch my grandchildren and great-grand children grow and mature.

The Bible says that life is but a vapor...

The time I have remaining to me - to enjoy or to dread - the choice is mine.


"...whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow.  For what is your life?  It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away.."    James 4:14

I'm So Tired...

I am so tired of this world; where cheaters cheat and liars lie and killers kill - all without conscience; where politicians and dictators are interchangeable; where children bleed and parents run; where parents die and children don't care; where up is down and down is up and the world has shifted on it's axis, literally.

I'm so tired of this world; where good is bad, bad is good, and everything is spinning wildly out of control; where the good are made sport of and the wicked endorsed; my head is exploding because of the madness spinning through the atmosphere; life is not valued, we do not take care of our own but flock to tend to the wounds of strangers; what once was valuable is now scorned; what is filthy and rotten is now wildly delightful; the sins of the fathers will be visited about the children in the form of money spent that is not earned and can not be repaid.

The heavens are heavy with the grief of many who are slain by zealots; where tears and blood run intermingled in the streets; the earth is groaning and mercy is forgotten and grace is unknown.

I'm so tired....

It Comes andGoes

I'm happy that I haven't felt the need to post here in ten months. I've been up and down, and like the tide, depression pulls and tugs at you. I was at a low point a few nights ago and chose to post about it on Echoes, when I should've posted here. My whole decision to have two blogs was based on the fact that I wanted to keep the other blog lighter in scope.

Today is a better day. I knew it would be.

Life - Take it or Leave it

I can't believe it's almost been nine months since I last posted here. Life was fairly smooth there for a time; not very many bumps in the road. That came to a screeching halt on 11/20/08. We are now statistics of the economic slowdown. My hubman was laid off - now we have no insurance or income. All the paperwork has been filed for unemployment and SSI, so we're just waiting for that first check to come. It was so kind of his employer to do this right before the holidays - at least they waited until he was able to collect SSI.

Scared? Yeah. I finally got to the point where my meds were keeping me on the right track and now... I don't know what to do. All I know is - tomorrow is our 30th anniversary, we love each other and God is in control. That will do for now!

Spinning Out of Control...

I have come to the conclusion that my mind is like some kind of cosmic playground designed by Stephen King. My thoughts go 'round and 'round like a carousel going in constant circles, up and down on a horse with glass eyes. My ears echo with loud music performed by the Phantom of the Opera on an gigantic pipe organ, which hurts my ears and overwhelms the senses.

The teeter-totter goes up and down, up and down, up and down; the swings propel me forward then back again; the slide has steep steps, a quick descent; relief but then I realize I must climb the steps once again to merit the ride down; the merry-go-round goes out of control and when I manage to make it stop, I cannot stand upright but go stumbling off like a drunken sot. I run in the sand, fall and skin my knees and go barefoot on the sweet green grass, only to step in dog poop.

My mind is like being in the eye of the hurricane; calm - then suddenly a spinning vortex of all sorts of things that have been caught in the voracious wind. Thoughts spin and twist out of control, while trying to latch onto something solid, redeemable and trustworthy.

I am reminded of Sisyphus, pushing that enormous rock up the hill only to have it slide back down. Poor Sisyphus, an eternity of pushing and dodging; having hope that maybe, just maybe, one more try and that stone will fly down the other side of the mountain, and Sisyphus will no longer be a slave to his burden.

That's how my thoughts are: heavy, complicated and usually barreling back at me. Will I ever be able to conquer this fragmentation of thought?

Isolation

Why is it that you can be meandering around in your head having a wonderful time and, all of a sudden the meandering turns into mindless hatred. I hate this place I find myself "living" in. I've kept a stiff upper lip for my husband's sake and now, it's his turn.

Today, I fixed a wonderful dinner - one of my best ever. I fixed a cake for dessert and had everything ready all at once, which in itself is a challenge. Cooking has been a challenge and I don't cook like this often, so it was a big deal to me. I was cleaning up and wanted to dispose of some grease and couldn't find a container as the trash had already been taken out.

I've been cleaning out the "bird room" for the 100th time, trying to find space and had collected a few bags of paper trash, so I very carefully poured the grease into the bag and carted it outside to the trash. Yeah, it dripped all the way.

Now, the carpet, including the greatly hated kitchen carpet (carpet from Hell) and as I reached for the Resolve, I began to cry. I want my old place back. I HATE THIS PLACE. I know, I've gone through the repetoire of how much worse off I could be and I know that in my brain but for right now, in this time and space, in my heart - I HATE IT HERE!

I can't keep things clean because of the wear and tear - carpet in the bathrooms, the place is so dated and I still have boxes stacked around because I don't know wtf to do with them. I've thrown out, sold, and given away so much crap and I still am inundated with more than I can handle.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was a fairly popular kid in school. I had a good amount of friends and always had something going on the weekends. I was good in sports and if you remember the diabolical way kids chose one another for teams I was usually the captain or first one chosen. Now, I know how the fat, ugly kids felt. (BTW, I always tried to befriend them or choose someone who I knew wouldn't get chosen, even if it meant our team had a lesser chance of winning - I have always considered people's feelings to my own detriment.)

I feel really stupid about this but it seems as though certain friends of mine have decided I'm not important to them and I have to watch the fun progress without me, even while making comments of support and trying to be involved. I want to drop out and just stay away. I feel the horrible way I used to feel at work when everyone around me was laughing and having a good time and I was the one picking up all the telephone calls coming in.

Why do I feel as if I don't fit in anywhere??? I haven't felt this isolated in some time. My girls hardly ever call - we never do anything together (part of this is my fault because of my "bi-polarness." Somedays I'm up for stuff and other days I don't feel like leaving the house. So they can hardly be blamed for not calling. I'm never angry, just not very involved.)

But I felt safe here on the blogs, developing friends with whom I can be anonymous, people who I thought really cared for me and now I'm feeling as if it's just anpother cosmic joke.

I am going to publish this because it's how I feel right now. I'm having one big helluva pity party and feeling socially left out. Tomorrow, I may feel the same way or my mood may swing again back to the right direction. Who knows - and who the hell cares.

"I Believe in Love"

"I BELIEVE IN LOVE"

How long will my prayers seem unanswered?

Is there still faith in me to reach the end?

I'm feeling doubt - I'm losing faith;

But giving up would cost me everything.

So I'll stand in the pain and silence,

And I'll speak to the dark night;

I believe in the sun even when it's not shining,

I believe in love even when I don't feel it,

And I believe in God even when He is silent....

And I, I believe!

Though I can't see my stories ending,

That doesn't mean the dark night has no end;

It's only here that I find faith,

And learn to trust the one who writes my days;

So I'll stand in the pain and silence,

And I'll speak to the dark night.
I believe in the sun even when it's not shining;

I believe in love even when I don't feel it,

And I believe in God even when He is silent...

And I, I believe.

No dark can consume Light;

No death greater than this life.

We are not forgotten,

Hope is found when we say

Even when He is silent.

I believe in the sun even when it's not shining;

I believe in love even when I don't feel it,

And I believe in God even when He is silent.

And I, I believe.

----Barlow Girl

I "borrowed this from Mel, who, without a doubt, has one of the strongest testimonies I've read in a long time. Her beloved was killed in Iraq - they were yet to be married. She has attended weddings of friends who just "don't get it." Her hurt and pain have not left her without the one greatest blessing of mankind: HOPE.

Three More Funerals...

A father and son, both awaiting a certain death. The ironies of this life - death will not wait.
The father is 93, the son is in his sixties. The father has seen much grief and sorrow in his lifetime but has borne it all with much strength and grace. And now, it is a waiting game.
Will he outlive his son?

The son was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer several months ago. He was doing fairly well but it was not to be. It has spread into his stomach and he is now beyond medical help. He has seen his fair share of sorrow. His oldest son was in a car accident in which his back was broken and he is now a paraplegic. The ironies continue:

His cousin was born with Spina Bifida and does not have the use of his legs. The grandfather was diagnosed with Diabetes some years ago, and due to malpractice, lost his leg. One family, three male members having lost the use of their limbs. But God has endowed them with huge hearts!

The father (grandfather) was diagnosed this week with a malignant tumor that is very close to his lung, and due to his age and other maladies, mainly the diabetes, the doctors feel it is inoperable. Another member of this family is also dying: the father's brother. He is also in his 90's. He has cancer.

So the extended families draw close to one another, gaining strength from one another, knowing that they are facing the loss of three of their own within a short time frame. It is exceptionally difficult as the holidays approach. Please pray for them...

Can I Forgive? Must I?

Daily forgiveness

"As long as you don't forgive, who and whatever it is will occupy rent-free space in your mind."

-- Isabelle Holland

"We cannot avoid daily resentment and thoughts of guilt. They are a part of human nature.

What we can do is release their grip on us. We can forgive others and ourselves daily.

Forgiveness requires nothing in return. There are no conditions. It gets rid of old baggage and clears up unfinished business. It leads us to a life of authenticity, lightness and directness. Forgiveness is the highest form of letting go of resentment and ego.

True forgiveness is more than an apology, understanding and acceptance. There is an element of recreating and re-imagining. There is a need to envision ourselves as more loving, interdependent, courageous and compassionate. Forgiveness requires honouring the sacred journey of learning about life - our life and others'. "

---anonymous

I have tried so hard to forgive the person who has hurt me. I have asked for forgiveness from them directly but was once again, ridiculed. I have asked God for forgiveness for my anger against this person and I realize that my ego is standing in the way. I didn't do anything wrong - that's why it is so difficult to practically beg for forgiveness. I have always feared rejection. It has happened so many times, whether by death or intentions and my ego fights against it continuously. Everyone I have ever loved seems to have rejected me in one way or another, except for two very dear people.

All I can do is to continue to pray that hearts will soften and be changed. I need to find true forgiveness and to forgive seventy times seven. My journey of learning is leading me down a very lonely path and at times, I'm lost. I need to redefine myself and the way I see the hurt and let it go, quit clinging to it. Release it into the forest where I cannot see it any longer - let it go...

I will be healthier.

Death Comes Yet Again...

I hadn't seen Mike in years so I don't have facial recognition of him as an adult: I still see him as a young boy, big brown sparkling eyes and bright smile. He could be a handful, but he was always charming. We had Christmas together at my mom's house. What a loud bunch we were! Five cousins, all with brand new toys, and lots of them...Loud and lively but these are the things memories come from.

He spent a week with me and my kids, shortly after my husband died, and I remember taking a drive with them up to Lake Isabella - all of us crammed into the car. I remember lots of laughter and lots of fun and music.

Mike was born just two months after my oldest child. His mother and I spent a lot of time together, just young moms trying to figure out our way around motherhood. She watched my daughter for me while I went back to work. I have lots of photos of them together as young children. Now I will have to seek them out and remember him as he was.

I have heard it said so many times: A parent should never have to bury one of their children. It goes against nature - the oldest of us should not outlive the youngest. To see potential lost, dreams unfulfilled, to realize that Mike will not see his beautiful girls graduate from college, marry and have children, it goes against the whole concept of the circle of life. It isn't supposed to happen this way. And yet, what can we do about it? Absolutely nothing, except mourn and question that which we do not comprehend. Given time, we will pick up the threads of our grief and continue to put one foot in front of the other as we march onward. But our brows will have more furrows and our laughter may not come as quickly.

I pray that God will not visit death upon this family again soon and rob us of our youngest members. I still question his taking Doug and suppose, even with acceptance, I will always grieve. I have never lost a child but Doug was closer to my heart than my natural son. I can only imagine what my cousin is enduring and I wish it wasn't real. But it's not a dream, it's reality of the worst kind. You don't wake up from this.

Mike was just 41. He leaves a wife and two daughters, one in college and one in high school.
If you read this please remember them along with his mom and dad.

Dirge Without Music

"....Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave

Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;

Quietly they go, the intelligent, the witty, the brave.

I know. But I do not approve. And I am not resigned."

~~~Edna St. Vincent Millay

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Life CLosed Twice

My life closed twice before its close---

It yet remains to see

If Immortality unveil

A third event to me

So huge, so hopeless to conceive

As these that twice befell.

Parting is all we know of heaven,

And all we need of hell.

~~~Emily Dickinson

Overwhelming Sadness

I'm really in a rabbit hole - the tears have come easily today and often. I feel as though I'm in a closet, locked away. I haven't returned a call to my daughter because it's so difficult to talk. What does one chat about when one feels like that really have no reason or purpose? No one tries to understand the nature of being depressed. It goes so far beyond being "moody." My family either denies I have it or feel it is just a spiritual problem. It's just mom being weird.
I used to have anger issues which as I've gotten older I am able to control the outward manifestations but I stuff it all down inside me and chew it as though it was a palitable meal. I understand why people hurt themselves to get attention. You want to scream out loud that it's real and it's devouring me from the inside out, just as a cancer would; down to the rot and the stench of dying flesh, my desires are dying. I don't want to be. The effort is getting harder and harder to keep getting up in the morning. Why is it that some people fight so hard to live and to others it would be a blessing not to wake up? Why do I stay in this place for days, weeks, without leaving? It's too much effort to get dressed and go "perform." Nothing is real anymore.

I've had two separate migranes today. Forty-three years of migraines...and chronic sadness. I can be in the middle of a group of people and feel totally alone. I've been at church with my husband after services and had to go sit in the car because I was overwhelmed with thoughts of being alone, while all about me, people are visiting and loving one another. What makes me feel this way? I try so hard to reach out to people but there are times that I feel invisible. I don't know how to be loving, hard as I try. Right now, deep in my chest I feel a crushing sensation, as if the weight of all this has come to sit upon me and pin me down so I can't do a thing about it.

I'm writing feelings as they come - tomorrow I may be okay. But tonight I look out over a glass ocean, black as the night, adrift by myself,; no idea of where the boat will take me.
Just knowing that I will feel alone, as usual. I wrote a poem once, called "Isolation." It describes how I feel completely isolated in the middle of people. I don't feel safe. I feel as though I'm nothing more than a burden weighing down those about me.

It's tomorrow and I'm not okay...I opened my eyes hoping to see everything through rose-colored glasses but my headache came crashing down on me, making me want to just go back to sleep but that won't happen. My cousin called to say that her son is taking a turn for the worse. His kidneys are failing and his liver is not functioning properly. His dad doesn't want to spend the money on tickets to fly back to see him - truth be known, he's afraid of seeing him. He's lost 70 lbs. My cousin said they may not see him again and they've got to get back there one way or another. So after bickering over the price of tickets, he decided to go. She's afraid they won't make it in time...I ache for her and hope everything will be okay and he will recover. It should make my problems disappear completely but the blackness completely surrounds me today.

Rain Still Falling...

a I believe in miracles. I believe we are in need of one. Mike is still in Georgetown University Hospital; he now has pneumonia. His fever is not as high - it was 104 for weeks. The doctors still hold out hope that he has a chance at full recovery so I am going to grab onto that and cling tightly. His wife had to return to work but their oldest daughter has forsaken this semester at college to be with him during the day. Those of you who have been generous with your prayers, please continue to remember Mike and his family in prayer.

My migraine monster has returned viciously and so has my depression. Then I see friends battling reoccuring cancer with a vengence and such a spirit of determination; I see the frustration that Mike's family is enduring and so many, many others. I understand that I'm not "pouting" or in a "snit," as my dad used to say, but I have a physiological disfunction that takes me down to the bottom of the well at times.

It makes me sad to the point where I had to get away Sunday; just leave the house and drive, anywhere but here. I miss my house, my yard - especially now that they are bulldozing the property behind us that allows us a view of the foothills and, once construction is complete, we're going to be in a gully, looking up at the backside of houses. And I tell myself, yes: I have a home, I am fortunate to have a bed at night. I know all of this...but depression and bipolar disorder can wreak havoc upon ones ability to see the goodness in one's circumstances. Even though you know better intellectually. Tears can come without a reason or cause, just as did my need to leave for a while.

I long for peace of mind and quiet of spirit. I may not maintain that here on earth but hopefully, on the other side...Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul.
(I'm speaking figuratively about rain - it was 96 here today and we haven't had rain since May)

Rain Will Fall...

" Into each life some rain may fall..." Who said that? It sounds so watered down and meaningless when you're faced with some of life's biggest challenges, doesn't it? The sadness I'm feeling tonight is for a friend who is facing surgery this week. I found out tonight and it just knocked the wind out of my sails and she is being a real trooper. I've known a lot of people in my frame of reference who have faced obstacles, but very few have had the tremendous strength and grace this woman has. She is amazing! She reminds me so much of the way my mom was. Resiliant.

And my cousin's son is still in I.C.U., although the doctors are telling his wife his progress is amazing. Combine that with the fact that he has to have more surgery and they had to perform a trach. He was on a respirator for weeks. He will have to be on insulin for ever...I'm trying to remember how many weeks he's been hospitalized and it has to be close to three months. He's all the way back in Washington D.C., his parents are in California.

I don't have a sister but my cousin and I are as close as any sisters I know, and her mother's heart is so torn. There is not a good open line of communication between she and her son and she's been getting information second-hand. I keep playing the tapes in my head, imagining how I would feel if it was my son. It's so important to get all of the information available, not just the headlines - she needs the whole body of evidence, so to speak, a frame of reference. She is hoping and praying that when he's able, they'll decide to return to California and true healing can begin...

I believe in prayer. I am praying, and I know that many others are praying also. We are praying for healing of the physical body and in the later case, the heart and old wounds, as well as the ones brought about by the surgeon's knife.

In this world of topsy-turvy beliefs, it is a good thing to have old values and comforts to fall back upon; to cushion yourself with and to feel cradled in arms that will never fail you. Into each life, rain will indeed fall. It will pour down around you and leave you battered beyond belief. But listen for the soft rustling of angel's wings and believe...

"Lonelihood"

I've given in to it - the "mood." The mood that comes and goes - the "lonelihood" that perches on my shoulder and taunts me, mocking the fact that I have isolated myself and am totally devoid of personal, social contact, of my own choosing. Maybe it is doubly wretched because I have dared to venture out recently and tasted freedom.

I do not like summer. In fact, I detest the long, hot, weary days. I do not mind the daylight; it's the miserable, scorching heat that sucks the life out of everything. I miss my yard. This yard is overridden with black widows, ants and an occasional roach. No telling what lives underneath us! At the other house, I had the soothing sounds of our pond and fountain and the wind ruffling the palm fronds. I miss all of that.

I suppose I am finally in a state of grieving for what was and angry that it is no longer. I have spent hours justifying and rectifying; now I just want to be angry and brood. It's a dangerous state to be in for me because I cannot allow myself to go too deeply and become bogged down in the muck of self-pity. But in order to work through something you cannot deny its existence.

My spouse's words reverberate through my ears: "I feel like I'm living in a rundown hotel." And this is my fault. I can go weeks without tears and then in a day go through a year's supply.
Scientifically speaking, tears contain a chemical that helps elevate our moods. If this is true, then tomorrow I should be on Cloud Nine.

Transitions

This is in memory of my 50's. They're gone and buried and so I begin a new decade of life. Forty was difficult; fifty a bit harder, but sixty...sixty came and knocked the wind out of my sails. The mirror tells tales along with my joints. There are more changes overall than at any other point in my adult life.
I am drawn the to song "It Was a Very Good Year," where Sinatra sings "I'm in the autumn of my life." I have always loved that song for the "musicality" of it but the poignancy of the words always touched me and made me feel blue, even when I was much younger. Even more so at this stage of the game. The same is true of "September Song." Seasons come and seasons go but we're only given one shot at each in the game of life. We have to make them count!

A Light at the End of the Tunnel?

Well, we're here. I am now officially living in a mobile home park and the world hasn't ended. I am surrounded by mountains of boxes and possessions that need to be put away. This place is shabbier than it looked because of all of the previous owner's belongings. The carpet is not as new as it appeared, the floors in the bathrooms and kitchen will definitely need to be replaced sooner and not later, and the kicker is: no funds to do so.

In spite of my whining about inconsequential things like flooring, I have a home - a place to lay my head at night. I just caught a look at my dog, Katie, who's laying at my feet, sound asleep. She has her head laying on one of her "babies," (stuffed animal toy) using it as a pillow. When I think about it, the two dogs are more fortunate than people living in Darfur and other areas of this world. They have a home, too.

All things in proper perspective and in due time.

Moving Day Approacheth

We're down to the last seven days. Friday and Saturday I cut myself loose from "things" that have been keeping me tied down; things that I thought I had to keep in order to keep my family and relatives presence near; things that have been in the family for decades; things I no longer want.

There is freedom in cutting oneself loose from the burden of being the keeper of "things." I hold in my heart the presence of those who gave me life and those before them. I want to be unencumbered of the things I have brought into my life that create a museum of treasures that were once purchased and handled by my family members. It's time.

I watched people buy my grandmother's and great-grandmother's things for a song. Let someone else enjoy them. I've had so many treasures that a lot have been packed away out of sight, only to be seen when a move occurs. What sort of caretaker have I been? A hoarder, basically. I have kept a few things that will go with me; my children have chosen a few things as well. but the majority of items have gone on to new homes to be viewed, handled and enjoyed.

Our treasures are not of this earth, they are in heaven, lest I forget.

Sabotage

I wonder how old I was when I began to sabotage myself. When did I decide to hide myself behind a nice layer of fat? When did I decide to hide behind a serious exterior? I waited until I was well into my fifties to lose 130 lbs., when the "bloom was off the rose." I never thought of this until now. I had a near-miss once, a near-fling and it scared the devil out of me (or should I say into me!). Was my inability to lose weight and keep it off a way to keep myself out of trouble? Was I that unsure of myself? Am I so shallow that I'd leap at the chance with another man? So I kept the fat around my body as insulation against making my body alluring?
Sabotage.

I became attractive again and the feeling was giddy except the only men looking were as old as dirt. Well, for the most part anyway...I was safe. I'm far from beautiful but I'm not exactly a wildebeest either. I have never learned to be sexy or to flirt. I'm very comfortable with men - in fact, I prefer the company of men to the majority of women. Men usually have more on their minds than their children. I know how that sounds but women are usually not intellectually stimulating. That sounds arrogant, haughty, and misogynistic.

I admit it's true and I learned it from my mother. She didn't have girlfriends. Her only feminine companionship were her employees, some of whom she cared for deeply, but she wasn't into the bonding thing. Life, for her, revolved around my dad and brother. Women bored her. And didn't I know it! I've had to learn to like the company of women. The women I worked with usually were very busy bashing their husbands (I don't play that game) or talking incessantly about their children (once in awhile is okay, but a break, please!) and I'd rather talk about world events and politics. Is it a wonder I don't have many friends??? Sabotage.

I read something today that gave me grief. I realized that I have lost so much of who I used to be. Where did I go and why did I leave? I was never the life of the party but I was always one to have a good time. I used to be daring and feckless, writing letters to friends, addressed to "Lusty Flesh and the Four Skins," a name I made up for the occasion. In high school we used to go to the old Long Beach Pike (where they had the old wooden roller coaster out right by the water), and go to the "freak show" and heckle the barkers. My folks would've freaked themselves had they known! It's also where the sailors hung out. I never went without my male cousins...I used to smoke cigars with them. Their dads were doctors and they were good kids. We never got drunk or smoked pot - just good Cubans.

I was always ready for fun. My girlfriends and I took three years of French and would go around Disneyland "speaking" French as though we were natives and pretended to be tourists. We always went home with our stomachs sore from constant laughing over the silly things we were always doing.

And then life interrupted. I allowed my life and the events therein to "sour me." If I keep it up, I'll be an old lady who frowns at little kids and terrifies puppies! Heaven forbid! I have got to go hunting for the old me, the one who found sick humor in just about everything. I want to be the 100 year old woman who whacks the crap out of the young kid who tries to rip off her purse but smiles at him while he's running away.

Pretend

I would like to stand at the base of these falls and let the moist, cool water fall over my head and calm my spirit. It was so hot today and I did nothing but pace today like a horse that had sniffed the air and knew it needed to be somewhere important but had no one to take it from the corral and began to snort and paw at the ground. Impatience ran through me but I couldn't channel my energy in order to accomplish anything. That makes my stomach churn and my temples throb.

I know what needs to be done but I want to run away. Escape the responsibilities of packing and another garage/moving sale. I'm selling the majority of my furniture and will not have the money to replace it. The window that needs to be replaced has jumped to $800 - the original estimate was $485. It could've been much worse - we could've had termites or some such.

Now that the house is sold, I just want it to be over with...I don't want to linger here any longer.
We have less than three weeks left to finish repairs, organize a garage sale and move. And we're expected to break a record tomorrow for high temperatures - 95 degrees. It's been so cool and comfortable...

I want to slide into that pristine pool of water, let the waters rush over my head and pretend everything is just fine.

Soulless

Soulless

I poke my finger in my eye
to hide the fact I want to cry;
the tears run down my face like rain
and hide the fact I live in pain;
I live in fear and walk in night
because I have turned out the light;
I cannot face what I do not see
hoping all bad things will flee;
but faceless demons fill the hole
that I have left within my soul.
---gracie