IfI wereto writeevery dayfor onehundred days,would my soulbe purged ofthis malaise;is it a thingto be dredged,dragged up –twistedand tiedlike tatteredbed sheetsknottedtogether;is therea remedyfor thisscourge;or is thisan inherentrestlessness,a fiery bluespark of eternalangst ignitingpassion – a callto write? (Originally posted February, 2017. Image my own)
Expectations artificialliving in an urban junglelonging for nature’s calm – time moves too swiftlybarely registerlet alone participate We are guests in our ownexpectation’s dysfunctionlicensed for depression a smorgasbord for abuseintentions mislaid,disappointment unavoidable The ego pretends to be openbut she’s an actress off cueplaying out a sentence – condemned to basicspraying to escapethis dystopian malfunction. (Image […]
One Woman's Quest II 
So ture!
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Thank you!
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Absolutely, memories too.
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Yes! Thanks
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🙂
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loved this “what among us is not still life, until mind and emotion meet us..”
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Thanks Heather
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My pleasure.
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Wishing I could capture the still life of this day…I’d burn it, blow the ash faraway. Hah, a poetic comment…
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ha ha …how about the whole month.
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Well things were going really fine till the past couple days–Whammy! Are you feeling better, re the infection?
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A little bit. Back to the doctor tomorrow to see if there is real progress.
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I’ll be thinking of you–and keeping the prayers aflame ❤
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Appreciate it!
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No problem, it’s an honor to be of use 🙂 Did you read Cider House Rules? The term/notion “being of use” opened the story, and I really felt it!
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Yes! To be of use is important.
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🙂 🙂
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