Do you ever feel like you have something welling up inside, that you really want to say?
But experience haunts and says, “If you do there will be hell to pay”.
Yet deep in your heart you want to tell the whole world, “Perhaps, there are better remedies”.
But experience haunts and says, “Only in your wildest dreams”.
God gave me this particular style of writing . . . . and at a later age; it’s my hope to share so others won’t have to suffer and lack.
But experience haunts and says, “Because of me, I’m holding you back”.
So, I ask God when I’m feeling torn, not to remove the thorn(s) . . . but, “Would you please move Heaven and earth for me?”
See, only He knows how, and what I need to be set free, because I’m a mere human and sometimes can’t see the forest for the trees.
The experience that haunts, reminds me of phantom pains; they are memories taunting my pride.
Perhaps like many . . . . I’ve got something to say, and really don’t want to hide.
Then again, it’s not as simple as that.
I’m a planner, goal setter, achiever too . . . . and do not want to start something I cannot exceed, let alone . . . . do or complete;
But there’s almost a literal weight I can feel . . . . holding me down, and it is as if I’m stuck on my feet.
Let me fly!
My words already cross this great vast beautiful sky.
I don’t listen to music . . . . or anything (at all anymore), but these words by Annie Lennox left a memorable ring.
Plus, she is just extraordinarily talented. (Read about her life.)
So after I wrote about the legendary Paul Harvey, something within me changed,
Everything I visualize, and hopefully soon . . . . what you see, will be finally rearranged.
(Pssssstttt . . . . I already said it right here.)
My life appears to be in phases or volumes, and this is the last or final stretch for me;
Therefore something has to change to fulfill my personal dreams, so it’s better while this is new and nobody impeding.
I sorta jumped into this with a necessary push, completely alone, and even drank the hater-aid.
Months later I watched a video learned about “hater-aid”, and wondered why I should care . . . . I bought the domain and don’t even get paid.
Then I thought, “It’s not like I broke any laws”.
Maybe others shouldn’t jerk on this tiger’s chain because . . . .
See . . . . she, that would be me . . . still has fangs and her claws.
I’m not really fond of zoos.
Just a heads up . . . . I can cooperate . . . . “the artist” in me who seeks truth, will not conform, so I detest society’s pressure and rules.
(It fuels my creative juices.)
I have ZERO tolerance for perpetrators, assailants, psychopaths, keyboard cowards, stupidity, and plain ole fools.
Oops! Don’t mean to implicate him, him, her, him, him, her, her, you who, (*wink*) her and them, and him, him and whatever that was . . . . now, would you just have a little “grin”?
Everything we see, and now people have become so serious, hateful and evil . . . . few have a sense of humor left, and are no longer able to genuinely smile.
Fortunately I do have someone who keeps me laughing daily! Thank God for genuine friends . . . can I get an, “Amen”?
Oh, you see some “think” my style of flight, or the way I write appears a bit awkward like that bird up above.
I looked forward to explaining . . . . how . . . . I have absolutely no training . . . . with photography, poetry, journalism or in writing.
Therefore the transition in my “name”.
This was ALL a gift given to me Providentially, and again . . . . recently, or very late in life.
With every passionate word, I was told there’s a drop in at least a bucket . . . . yet sometimes it’s as though I’m writing, and one of the buckets has a hole.
Hello–ello–ello–ello–el–o—el-o—el-o—el—o—-o—-o . . . . it even echoes. Nope wrong bucket! That’s what I thought . . . . told you so!
Smile at someone and make their day . . . . When someone says “thank you”, reply with “you’re welcome” and be different . . . . You know, like in an old fashion way.