I want to maximize life experiences, social interactions and joyous moments, while accumulating knowledge and wisdom about this world and its people, recognizing happiness and contentment along the way and journal these experiences for continuous reflection.
I look through my strangled eyes, all I ever see is gloom
Flowers seem to fade away , refuse to even bloom
the Emptiness it fills me , like a hot air balloon
Darkness overtakes me , on a summers after-noon
I can hear the preachers say
Don’t give up
just kneel and pray
But the Voice is so far away
I heed it not
so here I stay
Under the withering sky , I wait to die – I pray to Die
My nightmares be-come real to me, in the light of day
The Hopelessness of reality , seems to light my way
I’m lost and befuddled , so I wallow here in pain
Submerged in my troubles , my will has been drained
But I can hear the prophets say
The son has came
to light the way
But where is he on this day
He’s left me here
And on through the black pitch of night , I tremble in fright – I tremble in Fright
Breathing the night through me , I exhale only blame
Hiding from light , you see, it exposes all my shame
It’s cold and dark to me , always winter always night
I see Time as it withers thee , and all else in my Sight
And I can hear the priestess say
Don’t give up
just follow me
But through my eyes
she fades away
For Beauty , I can not see
And on through the starless night , I hide my eyes – I hide my Eyes
I cover my strangled eyes , with my palms of dying flesh
afraid to see our demise, my cursed sight still left unblessed
In my heart love can’t arise , my unclean wounds still too fresh
Whoever could hear my cries , an issue left unaddressed
I hear no more voices today
I’ve given up
I’ve turned away
And my epitaph will say
A bitter man
below does lay
And on through the dead of night , I close my eyes – I Close my eyes …
I can’t help but noticing all the positive happy new year 2014 posts on facebook. It seems that many have bemoaned 2013 as a not so great year but look forward to the fresh slate of 2014. I wonder if this is the same sentiment as years before , and years before that. Anyway. I will hop on the hopeful merry band wagon and declare 2014 to be the happy year I was hoping the previous years would be.
This doesn’t sound as upbeat as I intended , but its the truth as I see it. I do have a number of goals that I am hoping to be able to meet or come close enough, for their positive affect to be felt. I am going to pull a trick I used once upon a time to stick to goals , and that is to re-up those goals throughout the year. 3/15 6/15 and 9/1 work for me. Change of seasons and all that.
A week after I get back from the Dominican Republic …that next Friday night , I notice what feels like a pimple in the middle of my right thigh…I squeeze at it but it feels like one of those under the skin ones that get sore and red but never quite pimpalize. The next day I go for a hike , and I feel the soreness there, especially on the down slopes where your leg kind of takes the shock of the step , shaking the sore area into awakedness. By Sunday , I’m limping. I was asked to go for a walk by a friend and had to renege due to the pain. At this point the area is red and splotchy , feels hot to the touch and hard underneath the skin.
The next day I go to work ,I am now constantly aware of its presence, and the center of the wound has grown blackish and looks like it will soon burst. I share this news with some of the girls at work , explaining that I believe it is a spider bite based on the slow progression and predictable symptoms. The girls attempt to scare me into going to the Dr. , by threatening that my failure to do so may cost me my LEG!
Women! Such alarmists , scared of everything. I don’t listen to nanny nagsies. I’m a man , I’m tough stuff.
I leave work early to go the doctor.
Doctor looks at it and says , “yup…looks like a spider bite. You will just have to let it run its course, pussy.” (she didn’t say pussy , but I heard it in her tone) “Here is some anti-biotics.” ,”Do you want pain meds ?”
Me – nah , don’t need any , its just uncomfortable , not painful. Besides , I’m a man , I’m tough stuff. And I sure ain’t no pussy.
That night. 1 am , I can’t sleep , at all. My leg is throbbing , the whole thigh area is swollen and I cannot for one moment find peace enough to come close to drifting. Between the hot buzzy stinging of the now-open wound area and the inflamed muscles all around , I’m in agony. By 3am I am resigned to the fact that I will NOT be sleeping tonight , at all. I wail on Facebook as much. I stop trying to sleep and research online about what the fuck I’m going to be dealing with for the rest of my life (or a week or so) I read all the scary shit about spiders, and about brown recluses , especially. I’m probably going to lose my leg.
Ok, I didn’t think I was going to lose my leg , but I learned a lot about spiders. Ct mostly has only two poisonous spiders (though there was some conflicting info on hobo spiders being a possible third) If you get bit by a black widow you would feel the sting instantly and within an hour be cramped over in pain from the stomach area. Believe it or not, they are almost never fatal. The brown recluse bite is rarely fatal either. You never feel the initial bite but a few hours later you will feel what seems to be a pimple. It will eventually get hot , red and hard. At some point the bite area will blacken and possibly necrotize , rotting the flesh away. Some bites can go real deep and wide and take out major chunks of skin and some can just run its course and just leave a wound that with care will eventually heal. This matches my situation precisely. At around 5am , I dig up an article , by a doctor-researcher who had found anti-histamine therapy can be very effective in treating a recluse bite. I run out to the 24 hour walgreen to pick up some benadryl. Feels weird being out at that time in the AM totally sober. I get the benadryl and by 7ish , I finally fall asleep thanks to the effects of the drug. I wake up around noon, the surrounding area is less swollen and red , though the wound area is still just as nasty.
I call the doctor to take her up on her offer of drugs. I am told this is not possible without seeing her. “Grumble Grumble ..FINE!” , I say.We can give you an appointment the Tuesday after next ..say 3 o’clock. “Are you kidding me ! I am in pain , that’s why I want the meds, I can’t wait two weeks , I’m dying from a spider bite!” The uncaring receptionists says in a bored , irritated voice , “well just walk-in then”
I limp into the doctors office. Getting in and out of the car is a chore , so these errands are not at all fun. She sees me and looks at the wound and decides it has become infected. She needs to cut into it and allow it to drain all it’s nastiness.
CUT INTO IT ?! Did I not tell you I have been in agony and need painkillers and this was without having a knife sticking into the area.
I ask if this is common in a spider bite situation. She says for all she knows or cares , it could be an ingrown hair. All that matters is that it is an infection now and must be drained and treated. An ingrown hair ! I don’t mind being wary of spiders from here on out but am I supposed to freak out about every effing hair on my body , now ? This lady is batty.
She proceeds to attempt to numb the area with lidocaine which requires sticking the surrounding area with a long needle and then releasing the stinging medication. This isn’t fun at all , but it is also absolutely useless on the inflamed skin other than to pierce it and wound it further. It is not the least numb in the area that requires it. She then takes her little napkin pouch of cutty ouchy tools and lays them on my crotch. “Seriously lady ?”
She then proceeds to cut , and slice , and stab ..(ok , she didn’t actually stab me) It felt like a hot knife being twisted around in there. I grit my teeth and squeezed and held the bed arms so hard that I pulled muscles in my back and neck. I felt like a civil war victim except I didn’t get the luxury of the pre-surgery whiskey gulpings.
She then stuffs the area with gauze strips , pushing it inside me with one of the strange cutty-pushy tools. Also quite painful. She gave me a scrip for Vicodin and told me to come back tomorrow with two of them in me and a driver. She may need to cut into it a little more.
A friend of mine offers to drive me. The next morning I confirm an appointment time for 12:15 and text my friend the alert and wait but get no reply. I eventually text back that I’m all set (meaning I will take myself) because my friend is notorious for being late and unreliable. I didn’t want to get that 12:10 text saying he’s on the way and then find I have to wait hours for the next appointment. So , a little loopy , as I don’t take pills very often , I drive to the doctor. Wheeeeee!!!
She again goes into her business of needle sticking and hot knife twisting and I , with 2 vicodin in me , react exactly as I did the day before. Writhing and spitting in agony. Only difference is my mouth is quite dry due to the meds.
She then stops and claims that there is nothing more that she can do, because there is more that needs to be cut out (there is quite a deep wide hole at this point) and I will have to go to the hospital and get knocked out for surgery. I’m ok with this at this point , but I want to go home first and get my things. I know once I’m in the hospital , I ain’t leaving soon. They would have none of this. I’ll have to go by ambulance. I cannot drive and I need to go straight to the hospital and not go home , at all. They tell me that I probably have a fever that is being held off by the drugs and I could collapse or die of sepsis when it wears off!! I have the doctors in my face , literally, she had her face 6-8 inches from me continuing her insistence on immediate action, as I frantically text and ring my friend off the hook. I call work to see if he’s been in touch there , no luck. He pulled a disappearing act. Typical. I attempt to get a ride from another friend but she doesn’t know CT very well and I’m too spent to give directions. I give phone to the assistant who spends 10 minutes repeating directions from every possible angle and you can tell that this is not going to work out well. I take the phone back and say forget it , I’ll take the freaking ambulance. This means I’m stuck in the shorts and t-shirt I’m in , (Is my underwear clean ?) no phone charger , no iPod , kindle , books , snacks etc;
I’m in the ambulance and sipping on my water and they realize this and take it away from me ! “You can’t drink , you might be having surgery.” I protest that my tongue is as dry as a cat’s but they tell me I could choke on the water during anesthesia and die. Quite alarmist these people are. May I note here , that the Dr’s were women as well as ambulance people. Just saying.
I am sent to Hartford ER despite my protests, as I wanted to go to Manchester as I know the ER is less crazy (ie; shootings and gang violence) and the hospital is relatively good as I also know from experience. (see Sickness 2012
I lose this argument too. I’m dropped off in the ER and there I stay. For hours. I can’t eat or drink and the meds have worn off , but not the dry mouth effect. I am informed that there are no beds at this time. Fucking Hartford. A doctor finally comes in , its now like 6:00 pm … He looks at the wound and says that they are going to put me on IV antibiotics and see how I respond before considering surgery.
Seriously , after 5 hours ?
“May I please have something to eat and drink then , please ?”
“Well we should have a bed for you soon and you can eat dinner then , unless you want something from the snack machine now.” the doctor says.
I decide to wait for dinner and a nurse gives me a some lukewarm tap water in a little dentist-spitty cup- thing.
At 8’clock I finally get in the room and they stick me with the IV antibiotics. I ask how do I order dinner and am informed that dinner was at 6:30 and would I like something from the snack machine. Agghhh!!!!
They scare me up a dry turkey with nothing sandwich that I choke down. Then I commence with doing nothing for the next four days.
To be continued….
The nothing for the next four days I was describing was not totally nothing ; just worth nothing and in the end , essentially nothing went on of any consequence. Shit , I should have just ended the story before …what the hell did I want to continue for ?
Well, I should let people know that my leg did not fall off.
It may also be of interest to note those moments of pure boredom that transcended any other tedium of recent memory. The T.V didn’t work right and was tiny and in an awkward position. My phone was dying. I had no music , no books or anything else to do but stare at the wall. I attempted sleep on a number of occasions but was too uncomfortable to have any real success. I have the ability to lose myself in my mind on occasion. I wrote this in my mind at the time and have since recreated it here in perfect form. But that only entertained me for a few hours. Boredom, manifest in as pure and oppressive a form as I was experiencing, can bend time as much as a black hole. Seemingly Interminable spans of time passed between each tick of the clock. It wasn’t all bad, intermittently there were some exciting lightning strikes and bouts of loud heavy downpours. Unfortunately , that too became tedious as we received a record amount of rain (7 inches) over the next few days. The view from the window was the same wet grey for days on end.
Eventually I did get things picked up from my house and dropped off for me thanks to some wonderful friends. It’s difficult describing to someone where some particular item may currently reside in a home. “Ok , its in the hallway , no not that one the other one …by the door …not that door the back door , yeah … there is a bag by that table and …oh …how many bags do you see ? ” etc; ad nauseum. I especially had a difficult time facilitating the retrieval of my comfy headphones and was stuck with the buds in a box, that were apparently somewhere nowhere near where I described, but were found nonetheless.
I highlight the ear buds here for a reason. I was really looking forward to listening to music as I can sleep with it , read with it , whistle , sing …. I couldn’t dance due to my leg but I could pull off a pretty mean head bop with no ill effects. In other words, an almost unending list of entertaining enterprises was open to me.
But I have a problem. It’s embarrassing to admit , but my ears are put on funny. They apparently do not have the proper proportions to admit and secure an ear bud. Try as I might , as I pop one in , the other pops out. I literally need to grind and twist these evil fuckers deep into my ear in order for them to stay for any fair amount of time. Eventually they worm their way out as if offended by my mis-proportioned ears. That leaves out many of the amusements I was looking forward to. Head bopping was out. I couldn’t sleep on any particular side unless I smooshed my head into the pillow, pinning the slippery bud in as close to a useful angle as possible , allowing it to emit sound into my ear or at least the surrounding cartilage. Even whistling and singing , believe it or not, builds just a slight enough amount of inner ear pressure to shoot the infernal objects out of my head. My ears were eventually so sore from these baneful buds that I decided that background t.v noise was gonna just have to do.
All the while , It was forefront in my mind why I was suffering these indignities. Its because my friend did not drive me to the doctors. If he did , I wouldn’t have been so unprepared and empty handed for this hospital stay. It got to the point where I could think of little else. More on that later.
I was slowly improving over this period and was well attended to by the various hospital staff. They still weren’t quite sure how bad or how deep or bad the infection was until they got more test results back , but the swelling was way down and I wasn’t in any real pain until…….
Dr. Young Slick comes in and decides he wants to get a good look at things and pulls out his own special supply of cutty ouchy tools- Hospital Grade. There were twice as many instruments and twice the size of the doctors. I explain that I have no meds in me and besides, I have a cat scan scheduled in a few hours so they can ‘get a good look at things’ a lot less intrusively. He tells me not to worry. He’s gonna numb the area with lidocaine. “Do you know what that is ?” I want to punch him in the mouth. After 10-15 minutes of torturing me he decided he had enough. He lined up a nurse to pump me full of meds and he would come back and complete the torture session to his satisfaction.
Mean nurse comes in and pumps me with a full 2mg of some ‘make you feel instantly shitty and pukey meds’ right into my IV. She didn’t drip it , just pushed it all in one fell swoop because the Doctor was in a hurry. She cleans and covers the wound area. He comes back 20 minutes later and looks at it and then decides that he doesn’t need to do any more and that we’ll just wait for the results of the cat scan !! My head is pounding from the shit they gave me and the hospital bed ride to the scan felt like I was on a roller coaster. Sure enough , as soon as I got back from the scan I puked my guts up. I had a headache for 2 days from this shit. I was scheduled in the AM for new wound dressing so nice nurse ordered me .5 mg and have it pumped it over 10 minutes , the way it should be administered Dr. Slick….yeah , He’s a dick.
Finally I am to be released. My buddy coordinates getting my Subaru Forester home, which is still at the doctors, by bringing his wife to the vehicle before leaving to pick me up. Luckily my car is still there , but unfortunately I left my very large moon roof open that entire time! This didn’t immediately come apparent to my friend until she sat down , compressing the seat like a squeezed sponge and absorbing the voluminous amount of released water with her jeans , underwear and blouse. This is my damn unreliable friends fault !!! I’m still dealing with the ramifications of his blow off!! There was a RECORD amount of rainfall during that period and most of it was in my car. My car was so filled with water it loudly sloshed around turns. If I turned quick , I could feel the ensuing tide affect the drive-ability as I would if caught in a windstorm on a highway. I had to wet vac the whole thing and air it out for days. I bought a dozen baking soda boxes from the grocery store (I think they thought I was a crack addict) and scattered them throughout the car to soak up the moisture and aid in odor control. One of the days I forgot to keep the windows open and the car fogged up as if a troupe of newlyweds spent an amorous evening in it.
It took a few more weeks for my wound to fully close up but It did. It healed from the inside out so it remained ‘open’ right up until the end. I still have a scar to commemorate my battles. I have a few gory pictures that I am happy to share with any interested voyeur. Just ask. I have since forgiven my friend who dissed me , despite the fact that he made pretend that he got my ‘I’m all set text’ and claimed that’s why he didn’t pick me up. (or call or text or show up for work or pick up my dozen phone calls/texts after that one- uh huh) Forgiveness is best given out of love , but occasionally , self interest will have to do.
I mourn the memories in my head , I mourn the love that now is dead
I mourn for all the could have beens , I mourn all the unfulfilled dreams
I mourn my pillar that crumbled away , I mourn the words I didn’t say
I mourn the past that didn’t last , I mourn our tomorrow that won’t pass
There is no word strong enough to express my grief
There is no meter soft enough to provide relief
There is no rhyme clever enough to make you believe
There is no amount of words that aren’t too brief
I was always afraid to feel
Now I feel so acutely , I’m tearing apart with it.
I feel it in waves and it drowns me in its sorrow
My tears aren’t hot enough to express my grief
Should my skin boil and sear , I would feel relief
This sadness weighs me down
this mail of anguish sags my shoulders
Tennysons` crown of sorrow is no solace
Memories of joyous days only increases my misery
The warm flood of loving remembrances,
Those moments of ecstatic sharing’s ; There are no words tender enough to describe.
I mourn the time that passed away
Its in these mundane moments that we live and love
This is my final tribute , my last goodbye and I feel it so intensely
It makes all my perceived pains and woes of my past , so insignificant.
The small everyday trials , that once engrossed me
are swept aside like soft ash
My common sufferers !! We bond together !
There is no agent of joy that can bind so strongly. I call to you!
Love is as timeless as it is transient
and no ones grief is as great as ones own.
But we all love and we all grieve together.
The healing balm of time is an exhausting and tedious relief
yet time may eventually dull the edges of this sharp pain
But I do not long for complete comfort , it is this feeling that reminds me that I am alive.
I may weep and sob
I may wail and ache
Lucas stares in horror as the soldiers drag the young woman from her home. He’s just a low ranked medic and has little sway in how the war is conducted. He can simply tremble in both fear and rage as he witnesses atrocity after atrocity. He leans against a stone wall , feeling dizzy with emotion. His normally smooth brown complexion is flushed red with blood and he feels it pounding his temples. For a second, he considers physically confronting these soldiers, who are beginning to rape the young woman. Her simple peasant dress is pulled up over her head and wrapped around her arms, effectively pinning her to the dirty ground. Her legs are thrust apart and she’s kicking the air futilely. They are slapping her and beating her, and one after the other, defile her.
It was only a few minutes ago that Lucas was cleaning and binding a grunt’s wound when he saw that a group of soldiers had chased some of the enemy into their home. The soldiers were pounding on the door and yelling at the men to come out so they may have their way with them. They were like an angry mob. Suddenly the door opened slightly and a young scared woman was pushed out the door. She fell to the ground in front of the men. Shrieking, she scrambled in mortal fear , scratching across the hot earth on all fours and then franticly banged on the door to be let back in. Trapped , the young woman shrank into a ball and stuffed herself into a corner of the doorway. The men laughed at her and slapped each others backs in celebratory anticipation of what was to come.
Lucas , feeling impotent, headed back to camp. “There is nothing that can be done,” he thought. The General condoned this type of treatment of an enemy. The” ‘Spoils of War’,” he called it. Lucas could only mourn for the young woman, as women who had been raped were considered ruined and worthless, and were typically slaughtered. Only the virgins were saved. Lucas , a child of rape himself , knew only too well how horribly women were treated. His mother was forced to marry the man that raped her. This was a direct order from the General Himself. Lucas grew up in a household where violence was commonplace , his mother receiving the brunt of it. There were countless times he would sneak his mother a cold compress to apply to a split lip or a swollen eye. It was then, as a child , that Lucas swore he would never inflict pain on others and would seek to protect the helpless.
The war has been going on for years and General Adonai was not known for holding back against the enemy. He would release a pestilence upon them if it helped his cause. His soldiers believe him to be mighty and awesome , and feared him ; which was his intent. He had annihilated whole cities simply because they did not recognize his power. This was a common offense , as the many tribes of this region were often loyal to their local generals. In fact most only knew their own leaders and the history of their own peoples. These histories were passed down generation after generation in oral stories and poems. The General would not allow his people to intermingle in any way with the conquered . He had his corporals give great speeches explaining how he did not want his nation to be corrupted by these other peoples’ cultures. He did not want any intermingling of blood and would not allow any intermarriage. He would never make any treaty with them and demanded that our soldiers show the enemy no mercy.
Over the years , Lucas taught himself the discipline of healing so he could relieve suffering. He was becoming a competent physician, but once he was of fighting age, he was conscripted to General Adonai’s army. Refusing to fight , he received many beatings. One day, after such a beating , he dragged himself into the large tent that housed many of the lower soldiers – the weak or infirm. He was observed , by an officer of rank , attending to the other soldiers instead of going to his bed. Most of these men have received some sort of attention from him already. He rechecked bandages , poured olive oil on vicious wounds , or applied the appropriate fruit leaves. The officer recommended him to become the army medic. He no longer had to fight.
Lucas tended the soldiers as per his station , but late at night , he would sneak out into whatever village they were occupying, and attempt to help the abundant sick and injured there. Most of his patients were women or children since most of the men were killed or slaughtered by the General. He would sneak in supplies and clean water and linens for the villagers when he could. One day he even delivered a baby. He gave the woman a special tea he made that would help dull her pain. It wasn’t enough to fully comfort the mother who screamed and cursed while pushing out her child. “I wish women didn’t have to go through such painful childbirth,” Thought Lucas , “What a curse!”
Out of uniform The villagers and the soldiers looked quite similar , as if they were related ; which if you go back a few generations , they were. But you can differentiate them by the missing lobe on the left ear of the soldiers. General Adonai demanded this of his fighting men. Lucas tugged at his ear absentmindedly , a habit he developed , since it was he that currently did the majority of lobe-otomies. Previous men that performed this service took great pride in it, believing they were following the Generals will and that the men were better for it. They were also rough about it. Hard men were quickly brought to tears when a portion of their ear was hacked off by these zealots. “At least we weren’t forced to mutilate an important part of the body,” thought Lucas. He wasn’t happy that he was made to do this , but he knew how to perform the incision precisely, so as not to cause pain. He took the time to apply the herbs necessary for quick healing.
The General had many such rules and demands of his people. Lucas found it amazing that the people were attracted to this life and revered the General with so much zealousness. After all , he micro-managed so much of their life : from their diet, to their dress , to their home life rituals. He demanded absolute cleanliness and ritual cleanings and would cast ‘unclean’ people out. The unclean included women who were considered such during their monthly time of menstruation. “Did he not understand that this was a natural physical process that was necessary for reproduction ?” thought Lucas. He was also very severe in his treatment of his soldiers. If a squad failed to assemble before him for roll call , he would send out elite soldiers to kill them and their families , sparing no one , except of course the virgins. He had quite an obsession with virgins. It was his opinion that the tribes of other nations were not worthy of his land. He ruthlessly moved his armies across the land , wiping out whole peoples. He would burn their altars , chop down their sacred trees , smash their homes to rubble and utterly destroy any remnants of their society.
Occasionally the General didn’t utterly wipe out a city he took in battle. If a city was far from the nation , he would first offer them a peaceful surrender , contingent on them opening the gates without a fight. Then he would subject them to forced labor and the servitude. Leaving them to the merices of the people he would leave behind to populate the city. Lucas was in such a city when General Adonai was leading a regiment through the city square, inspecting his new land. Lucas was anesthetizing a slave’s wound with wine, when suddenly rotten pomegranates from the sky began splattering the drab green uniforms of the soldiers. Lucas jumped up to see what was going on. Apparently some of the children , hiding behind wagons or behind their primitive dwellings, were unleashing their impromptu weapons upon the army. Adonai cursed the children and unleashed a pack of vicious army dogs upon them. The dogs ripped the screaming children apart as well as anyone who tried to help them. When the screaming was over, all you heard was the growling and barks of the dogs as they fought over the various body parts. That and the intermittent wailing of the distraught parents. It happened so quickly, Lucas was powerless to help. He could only seethe and curse this General whose ways were so incomprehensible to him. “How does the General rationalize this evil ?” Lucas thought. He claims to have his peoples’ best interest at heart. He considers himself righteous in these actions.
The General wasn’t the only vicious man in the army. There was corporal Sampson. A large ape of a man who was reputed to be a great drunk and a gambler. Lucas , had always avoided him as Sampson had little respect for Lucas’ profession. His attitude was that if you weren’t a fighter , you weren’t a real man. He was always further trying to prove his manhood by attempting relations with every woman who crossed his path. But his great vice was games of chance. One day he was gambling with some of the soldiers and lost everything he had and more. He couldn’t pay his debts so he beseeched the General for help. He was sent into the next village with a small regiment of men. They attacked , killed and robbed the villagers. He returned with his plunder and was able to pay off his debts. Afterwards , Lucas snuck into the town , hoping to find some survivors and nurse them back to health. He was too late. Sobbing , Lucas vowed to find a way to leave the Generals army . He swore he would tell anyone that sought to follow the General about the atrocities the General represented. He would convince such a person that they didn’t need to adopt these ways , and were better off living their life for their own sake. Lucas knew that he wasn’t strong enough to oppose the General and his army physically , but he could reject them absolutely , and live a life of humane morality. He would use his skills to bring good to this world. He did not need rules of conduct to know how to live his life righteously.
This Day marks time , the beginning
Though it has founded the end
This day ends the craziness
This day, peace sets in
This day slows the hurry
that the week brings on
This day calms the worry
your mind lingers upon
This day brings me grace
and the tranquil moments there
It shines light upon my face
with others, I can share
This day brings me restfulness
Like the one from long ago
This day fills my heart with Bliss
It cleanses my very soul
Some use this day for prayer, some comb the troubles from their hair
Some people really just don’t care ; My feelings I will share.
Its on this day my pain subsides , I hear no more anxious cries
I can ignore the daily lies , and concentrate on this sunrise.
Baby , We can take it slow
No need to rush you know
Don’t want to let you go
but I’m not ready to commit now
You know I’ve been hurt before
Don’t think I can love no more
what I need now , is a friend
til the end , and baby that’s you.
Someday maybe, your wish’ll come true &
I’ll be able to say I love you too
But now those words feel cold inside
from those words I try to hide
But if there’s a girl , and there’s very few
who could change my ways , it would be you
Please don’t take it personally
its not because of you ,but because of me
I need you girl , I cannot lie
but I just can’t be chained by your side
Didn’t try to lead you on
Didn’t want to hurt you
My feelings for you are strong
But not enough to please you
Baby we can take it slow
No need to rush , ya know
Don’t want to let you go
But I’m not ready to commit now
Olive oil and Apple Cider vinegar
Tuscany Blend Dip Starter – ie; rosemary, basil, bell pepper, parsley, chili flakes, aji pepper, lemon & lime zest, coriander, cumin, oregano, thyme
= ONE BIG ASS BOWL OF SALAD – Like a weeks worth. This is the Base.
Spoon out a bowlful and ADD
Sunflower and Pumpkin Seed
Or Dried Cranberries and Cut up Apple
Or Mix in a Can of Tuna / Shrimp / Salmon with a bit of plain greek yogurt
Or grilled chicken (though it would be a shame to ruin a perfectly meatless dinner/lunch)
I went the seed route for my first bowl coz I had no chickpeas on hand (thought I did L )
Anyway , Killer Stuff …. Yaay me.
I doubt I could describe her beauty better than my physical reaction to her presence. I radiate an excited , perspiring glow when around her. My nervous smile twitches back and forth from sheer joy to awkwardly apologetic. I can feel the blood boiling in my ears , and hope it isn’t running down my face for all to see. I find myself constantly maneuvering to find a reason to touch her. I brush her hand as I pass her a glass of wine , or give her a soft conspiratorial shoulder cupping while I agree to something she says. I also tease myself by guiding her – arm around her back but not touching – from room to room.
Though she is maybe 5 foot-nothing , I am quite frightened of her. Its more likely that I am so fearful of losing her favor in any way , that I tread carefully in all that I do in her presence. My congeniality to others increase tenfold as I attempt to match her angelic demeanor with a gregarious and open personality that I over-aggressively share with all. While we mingle , I find myself taking short quick breaths, as if anticipating a verbal competition that I must meet successfully.
When she enters a room , eyes turn… always. She coolly acts as if she is unaware. But when engaged , she is as warm as apple pie. She takes all compliments lightly but accepts them all the same. Her laugh always sounds sincere , and she turns all conversations back to the other participant. She then listens intently , her brightly intelligent eyes showing understanding and good will. When she tires of a conversation , she will end it with a touch of some kind , whether it be man or woman. Her disengagement is always full of beaming smiles from all parties. While she works the room , I blunder along behind her, in a feverish passion to be equally as wonderful. Her shine hides any of my mistakes or missteps, causing me to be treated similarly. I’m unused to such positive attention , but I do everything I can to act as if it is the most natural thing in the world.
When I picked her up , she was standing in her doorway swaying slightly with the breeze. She was looking up at the sky , or the trees , admiring nature. For a moment I stopped to take her all in………………………
‘ A simple sky-blue dress clings to her full hips and upturned breasts , whispering peace and plenty and pleasure. Her golden hair is mostly in an up-do , exposing her tender neck as a beautiful canvas for some long curls hanging promiscuously. She’s wearing light rope earrings that dangle from dainty and achingly kissable ears. Her heels curve her calves nicely, inviting your eyes to follow them up her body. Our eyes meet , hers deep and blue and full of mystery. She smiles at me , a full and sincere gorgeous smile , that causes one cute dimple to appear on her cheek.’
She is the most heart-breakingly beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I cannot begin to comprehend the pain the affected families are feeling. Reading all the reactions from the horrified citizens of our country literally has me in tears tonight. I hope those poor families come to know that they don’t grieve alone.
It is encouraging to see the stark contrast between the few sick maniacs of this world and the world-wide community at large. Our society is grieved by tragedies like these and Angry at the growing number of horrific events that should not be , especially in a supposedly enlightened age as ours.
Twitter and other social media are abuzz, and inevitably some posts and discussions have turned political. There are many angry responses to some whom posted political opinions , in response to this situation, during this time of mourning. Too soon ? I don’t know, isn’t that what politics really is. A system to allow individuals in a society to relate to one another. I find it extremely appropriate to express themselves in that way , whether I/we agree with the individual opinions , or not. Parents and the childless alike , we are all absolutely united in denouncing horrors like these , and are all empathetic to the victims and their families.
I hope we can someday come to a consensus on how to fairly relate to each other and protect each other, in this fragile existence of ours.