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 […]
love the humor 😄 but wasn’t able to watch, darn! 😞
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No worries. Thanks Deborah.
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Love it, VJ! Your facial expressions are priceless!
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Hahaha. I’m exploring my inner comedian these days.
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VJ, I can’t open it here. 😞
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Darn. I have filled in the script.
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Thanks so much, VJ. ❤️
Though I wish I could see you.
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Time for a mulligan! 🥰
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Yes! I forgot about mulligans. Love it.
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Thanks! 🙂
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🥰❤️🥰!!!
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😁🙏
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🥰❤️🥰
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