This is one of the many kiskadees in the area, it's also known by some as the Yellow Plantain as its yellow breast is quite distinctive.
I’m going to let myself go here and at times this might pass for a rant but a rant that really has a purpose to fulfill; to convince suicidal morons to wake up from the destructive haze they walk through and the people who think they’ve got it worse than everyone else.
After learning of the horrific Colorado shooting and reading this article I just burst into tears that I had to dash out of my cubicle, being halfway across the globe couldn’t separate me from feeling the grief of this loss. Right now I feel as if a ton of bricks just fell on top of me, and one got logged in my stomach making it harder to wade through the rest of the day. I’m a fairly religious person and couldn’t help but ask Him that why did so much life, beautiful life that had so much potential and dreams, so much to live for, had to leave this earth and at such ripe ages.
She’s just a girl
Never been in love
So badly wants to feel its embrace
But what lies in her chest
Is a heart hardened by the tales and
Thoughts of heartbreak and heartache
Not naive as to think that a prince will
Find her someday, somewhere
And have a happily ever after
For she knows the world doesn’t work that way
All she does is dream from a distance
And hopes her forever-love comes her way
© Devina S.
I had originally posted this on Poet’s Corner.
Picture Via thoughtsofalonelyblogger.blogspot.com
Some great graffiti on trains, check these guys out.
I was awarded just yesterday by my friend Daphne over at Evil Nymph Stuff, who was Awarded by Pudding Girl who was along the line awarded by Mrs. Hobbles who came up with this twist to the normal blog awards.
And here are the rules:
Blog Award Game: Since these awards are all about getting to know each other, fill in the blanks with things I might think/say/do in the following situations (feel free to make these up):
The craziest thing I’ve done is _____________________________________
I can’t believe you _____________________________________________
My favorite thing is ____________________________________________
The last time I was at a psychiatrist they ______________________________
I’m sorry, I __________________________________________________
Of course anyone is welcome to play this game on your own blog with your readers. Send me the link and I will try to guess what you might do. Thanks again!
Let the fun begin! Weeeeee!
Picture it and Write! is a regular post series over at Ermeila Blog where every fortnight they post a picture and you can right what comes to your mind when you think about it. Before I confuse anyone, here’s what they’ve said:
I urge people to join in, comment with your paragraph of fiction to accompany the image. It doesn’t have to follow my story or reflect the same themes. It can be a poem or in a different language (provide a translation please ). Anyone who wants to join in, is welcome. This photograph will be reblogged under Ermisenda on tumblr and added to the Picture it & Write gallery on Facebook.
They’ve got tons of pictures to write on but this is the one I chose to write on first:
My fingers brush the scarred barks of weathered sentinels as I amble aimlessly beneath their leafy canopy that casts a dream-like glow all around me. The earth is firm beneath my bare feet, with every step I take my toes tingle with its energy. I have not any fear of getting lost for this forest is my playground, the plants and trees are my play things that I bend at my will.
Crisp leaves rustle in my wake as I make my way to the tall, dense brush in my path that was swaying slightly in a non-existent wind. This wasn’t the work of Mother I see, I inspected it with a critical eye. I tilt my head this way and that, then I hear the softest of giggles. Ah, the sprites are at work with their mischief then. Amused, I raise my arm and splayed my fingers, caressing the calm air. It’s leaves shiver, I breathe deeply in. My fingers now clenched, the leaves shudder. I breathe out a whoosh of air. Then my hand swiftly falls to my side, soon after the brush parted before me and I felt the vibrations of tiny feet scampering away, their laughter now more audible.
Post was written Saturday night (14th) at various locations (most of which are need-to-know so don’t bother asking, you won’t believe me)
It turns out that I’ll be bumping into things until Monday. I’m so pissed to having wait so long, I’ve become dependent on my glasses so much it’s almost unbearable. I’m not a contacts person, I’ll more than likely fall asleep with them and then my eyes with end up stuck closed. And as for laser surgery? Forget it.
Dad was saying to me tonight that one of my aunts from England is in New York on work for the bank she works for and she said to my dad that she knows of some good English courses over there. Then dad says “You can have a doctorate in English if you want,” that’s when a huge smile claimed my lips and then I saw he was looking at me smiling too. I tried not to smile because the idea of teaching English really appeals to me, though I never thought of it before. Then my gran puts in that I won’t have the patience, but heck, even she was smiling.
I snapped this on my way home but I can’t remember when. Actually, I didn’t realize I’d taken this until a week or two after. I wonder til this day what was it he was carrying, it was probably rice or something. Continue reading