Tag Archives: random

Booyaa

Random stuff time.

Let me tell you a thing, I suck at interaction sometimes and this would mostly apply to blogging and visiting blogs. So when I say I am so grateful for all the visits this here humble virtual abode of mine got in my absence, I mean this with all my heart. I have one or two other excuses, of course. Thank you, gracias, merci, grazie! I can’t imagine why you guys stick around.

I’ve hit some sort of wall that I’m finally scaling at a creeping pace (if that makes sense) and my computer is still acting up even after the check up I got done and I’ve got to start saving up for a new one soon, and apparently I think better, or should say more, when I type as opposed to writing (except for poetry, though).

I’ve been drowning myself in music, more than the usual anyways. I’ve gotten into Radiohead quite a bit, “Body Snatchers” hooked me. Um then I discovered Redbone, The Archies and got an eyeful (haha) earful of “Hang on Sloopy” by The McCoys. Sort of a longish list, really. Also electro swing, ugh, such curvaceous sound waves.

I feel my attention slipping away already and I hate that. I hate that I want to write things but I end up feeling that I don’t follow through. I feel disappointed in my self yet I understand why … but still. I drive myself insane with contradicting tendencies, it almost makes sense.

I want to leave you jazz cats with this Continue reading

2 Comments

Filed under Music, Thoughts

Here’s to mothers and to trying

Thank God for mothers, and if you’re an atheist then thank … the universe? Thank goodness. I love mine, and there are moments times when I am acutely aware of how fortunate I am. She’s funny, kind and well, very motherly. Seldom do I see her genuinely serious and friends, those are times to thread lightly. Like right now, I can just walk up to her and give her an impromptu hug (most hugs are, aren’t they?) and she’ll give me a mama grizzly’s feathery embrace.

Why am I thinking about mam? I’m pissed at particularly no once person or group of persons, at the entire world actually and she makes me feel better. I want to be able to talk freely, to express myself without fear of exposing a weakness and generally not give a single crap about bigoted idiots (and I mean completely not waste any braincells) because there are some things one just can’t help at a whim. But that’s a perfect world. Of course I can abruptly choose not to but that’s instability right there. I try to be this tough girl out and about when I’m still plagued by major insecurities and my mind is split and I have to consciously make decisions of what to say in response to someone. Conflicted. I will add that I’m grumpy today.

Let me tell you something Continue reading

Leave a comment

Filed under Thoughts

Daily Prompt: Now

Write a post entirely in the present tense.

The Daily Post

Two thirds of this is factual, just so you know.

Comfy cozy.

Comfy cozy.

It’s not surprising I hadn’t slept last night. My sleeping patterns aren’t healthy, surely, but tell it to behave why don’t you. I drag my drowsy lump of a body up the stairs then to trudge along to my room with a defined yawn stamped wide on my face. It hadn’t been hot out today that I should be compelled to reroute to the bath immediately. I want to crash so badly. Just before I reached the door, I stop in my tracks. My nose twitched. Breath in again. Again, deeply this time. It’s going to rain. The fresh, untamed scent riding on the wind carried a whiff of smoke, but little of that. I’m torn: stay there statue still till the heavens descend in all it’s condensed glory or to just beat it.

Then suddenly … I wasn’t slumped with exhaustion that much anymore. Needle. And I need some thread. Why these odd urges come to me at these odd moments will forever mystify me. There was a small pile of undergarments to be mended. Certainly, they cannot wait any longer. Why me? Why couldn’t there be an urgent secret meeting of elemental magicians that I need to attend somewhere? No such luck. Continue reading

14 Comments

Filed under Writing