i am a victim. but i did it all to myself. all by myself.

in the kitchen, with a coffee cup. and now?

well, dont even get me started, but the desire, or more likely the ability to sleep... has been stolen away from my grasp.

today is hot. and i sound really unintelligent. blabbering on about nonsense helps tho.

ticklemeelmo stolemyphone
HELP!!!

i shud hav stayed in bed
... its true

no isolated incident

you know sometimes i wish i was a kid again. to trust when someone says, "the fire burns" and not be the person who has to check and see.

i wish i was a kid again, operating on a specific level of innocence...

i wish i had the mental purity in a sense that a kid has before he comes too close to the inner workings of the world around us.

its hard to pull yourself out of your surroundings when you have allowed yourself to get so caught up in such menial and trivial things the world entertains us with.

its hard to see that moral highground. or maybe its painfully obvious.

its hard to even desire it.

but in a chance encounter with the mirror you see the truth of your soul is farther from who you thought you were inside. and maybe its because you just walked, and neglected to pay attention to the pathways.

if my actions define my character and show my true intentions. Then who i am, is who i hoped to never be.

but still, i am a work in progress. so i walk in hope. pursuing purpose.

webster dumped me for someone younger

have you ever noticed, even as writers...
sometimes we lose our magic touch with words?
its like trying to ride a bike, or keeping a standard wpm (words per min)
it takes commitment. and commitment requires practice.

i still get lost in my head.
my head is halfway down a mental track and im still trying to figure out how to phrase the first part of my sentance.

maybe its because there is a mental disconnect. like who i was two minutes ago simply cant get along with who i am becoming now. so like a conscientious objector my subconscience starts to riot. throwing my mind into upheaval.

(so, not likely, but it was worth a try)

something has to change. and its me.

good life

i would have written more
but im lame
just found an app for this
my itouch is too good
my thumbs will become strong

and i will be able to articulate
and digi word vomit again
be excited cause i am

. its too late for this .
goodnight

24/7

Ok week, here I come, treat me well ok?

It's really strange to only really have 48 hrs of time to myself. Working two jobs keeps me busy. But in a way it's a blessing because I discover that I have far less time to be disatisfied.
Its like the less time I have to myself, the less I am inclined to sit and whine about not being happy. I seek happiness and joy in the moments in between, in the smiles of the people around me and the dialoge that is birthed.

I love people, I really do, and I love to love those around me. I'm just praying that my life doesn't get to the point that it leads me around and I forget to stop and smell the roses and make eye contact with a stranger.

Hello Monday, cmere, lets catch up

the sad side of irony

In every breath that I breath in, I have a million thoughts rushing through my head.

Not to make myself sound amazing or anything, but I always have a lot on my mind.

Maybe too much.

Lately, I find that I question the reasoning behind why I am here.

And what my worth is if I can't fufill my calling.

What if everytime I stepped forwards I was stepping further away

Further from what I was called to do/become.

Isn't that scary?

Then, I find that the more I think like this the more I don't listen

I should be listening right?

Cause if I don't relax and rely and let go and listen

Then I'll have no idea which way is up

renewel comes like a fragrant rain

You know life never comes at you in a way that you expect
But I find that being pliable is a def secret to not falling to pieces

I'm not who I was
pretty sure I am not who I thought I would be
I wonder at who I am becoming
But I feel safe in the security that the author of my life is writing a beautiful story for me to walk through

Lately I have been thinking about what the next tattoo I get will be.
I want it to signify something near to my heart <3
"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound..."
up from the base of my neck...
...following the line of my back bone
ending behind my ear?...

(that saved a wretch like me)

Or else on one wrist: Verbo Veritatis
which means "Word of truth" in latin

Thislifething issucha humblingADVENTURE
and for once I understand I don't walk it alone

I am in love, I am loved, I find joy in loving
Blessings in your journeys
<3>

ooh lala my oh mine

I have decided that there is a narcissistic element in blogging

I mean really

The smallest moments in our lives are suddenly worth being followed and read

And quotes from our lips are oohed and ahhed at.

Right.

Cause I'm just that cool

But I rationalize it this way...

We are living life together

And living takes confidence and courage

And if indulging in some select narcissistic pastimes are what make us human

living and participating adults

... then I really should have more followers ...

;)

Now, I'm going to make eggs.

falling into silence

I'm left with my thoughts

trapped in a muted state of repose as I ponder who I have become to those around me

I'm afraid

Worried that my heart is slowly hollowing out

feeling like daily I am become more and more empty

What do I have left to offer to these people I love?

It's funny, the affects that alcohol can have on your mind.

at first you feel completely invincible and fearless

and then slowly that sense of reckless abandon leaves you to the way-side

you just... start to feel... tragic.

it's like all those unhappy feelings that disappear when the sun come up creep back in thru the cracks when the stars come out to dance and you are just shrouded in darkness.

There is so much beauty surrounding you. So much vibrant, exhilarating chaos but for those moments you feel as though you stand alone and separate from all the things that bring love and life into your soul.

Makes me wonder on a spare occasions here and there why I do this to myself.

And why do I do this to others?

I am loved. I love. But daily I fail to achieve the goals I set for myself.

Life moves on