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 
Yes, worrying our looks doesn’t get us anywhere!
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😊
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I concur, 100%!
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🥰
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Incredible art with a powerful message. Beautiful, VJ!
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Thanks Wynne.
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Good golly…yes and yes! Thanks, VJ! 🥰
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🤗😘
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🥰
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We learn these lessons with time.
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Time and trials. Thanks Sadje
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Indeed! You’re always welcome 😊
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