tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-78783695263887107942024-02-08T09:52:00.167-05:00I hate naming blogs.My name is Hekaterina Ricci, and this is my soul, for your entertainment.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.comBlogger42125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-80473423366776901202012-06-13T13:04:00.001-04:002012-06-13T13:04:11.871-04:00BlarghMy life lately. Talk about annoying. I recently started meditating daily in an effort to calm my brain & try to sort out some of this internal chaos. My current relationship seems to be some sort of cruel joke-test by the Universe. But really, when is it time to tell the proctor to eff-off?<br />
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I wish I could say that I'm just pissy because I was awakened at 6:30am after an extremely fitful night's sleep (thank you & fuck off very much gluten) by getting my arm kicked repeatedly because it was touching his side of the bed & consequently, his leg. [OASN: yes. I sometimes sleep at the foot of the bed when I can't sleep. Habit of childhood. I read somewhere once that it's an intuitive way of shutting off the spiritual/mental receptors. I don't know how true that is, but it's always worked for me & no one ever suggested it, so maybe... At any rate, this severely annoys him, & he's actually the first to take issue with it. So maybe he should piss off, not me...?]<br />
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Maybe it IS me. Maybe I've just outgrown him & his Peter Pan ways. I found them endearing when I was spiritually wrecked from my last serious relationship, when I seriously didn't want a damned thing to do with permanency, true love, family or anything else that could render me vulnerable beyond repair. But that was 3 years ago, and I find myself craving true intimacy.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-10774284421977850112012-06-02T03:11:00.001-04:002012-06-02T03:11:06.564-04:00Why sleep?I'm tired, & yet I do not sleep. It's not that I don't want to sleep, but rather that I continue to bother myself with the Internet. The Internet is evil; I am convinced. Ok. Pause rant.....=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-23852970779236347632012-04-25T22:37:00.001-04:002012-04-25T23:11:22.026-04:00Motherhood...?If you take your kid to the neighborhood pizzeria/microbrewery for karaoke & free pizza & wings does that make you a horrible person? Lmao! =^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-66044824184462844442012-04-23T15:02:00.001-04:002012-04-23T15:02:01.330-04:00PositivityThese days find me swirling a strange bowl. It's actually probably the same bowl, but perhaps the maid snuck in while I was busy drowning myself & scrubbed it behind my back. Things seem somewhat shinier, or even just not as dingy. I assure you, this is not a chemically-induced veil, but possibly a pheromone/hormone one. <br />
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I definitely feel that we are all inclined, spiritually if you will, in certain orientations. Some souls are dark, some light, some heavy, some ethereal, some innocent, some far too exposed & some just never show. My own is a hybrid of over-exposed, dark & wishing for ethereal. <br />
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In the spirit of this wish, I've been trying to whittle my body away to wispiness for quite a long time now. My results have been dismal. The positive I can take from this however, is that I KNOW how to lose weight & get in shape. I just don't seem to be able to control my consistency. <br />
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In the last 2 weeks, I've had some awakenings. The biggest thing I've realized is that I need more positivity in my life. My art, my writing, my life has been slowly draining out of me for the last few years. It used to be that my creativity was fueled by the garbage that life threw at me. Life piled too much though, & I began to drown.<br />
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And now I'm choosing to swim. I'm sure I'll always have a dark soul, but I no longer think dark can't be ethereal.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-55247531108184606992012-04-22T21:12:00.001-04:002012-04-22T21:12:57.976-04:00Mobile bloggingIt's true: I have jumped feet-first into the ocean of mobile purging. I don't really have anything interesting to say in this installment; I'm really just testing out the blogger app. =^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-63320423404156684542012-02-10T21:13:00.001-05:002012-02-10T21:15:44.858-05:00Heavy Hangs the Head. (Sept 2011)I'm not gonna be the peace-maker, the shit-taker or the Go-Fuck-Yourself when-you're-down hater; It's not for you that I wear this CROWN, it's to remind me that I've been much further down & I crawled through the swamp floor to beg in the reeds at the shore, just burnt near to death in the sand traps of opulent fat cats. So take your attitude and stuff it in a ratty size ten shoe, BBQ it until you're blue because you will know when I'm through with you, & man...how I do.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-82278043065259409122012-02-10T21:11:00.002-05:002012-02-10T21:17:39.166-05:00Ambivalence. (Sept 2011)Out of the depths of my seas growing tiny trees with knobby knees, and if you please, don't sneeze in my breeze; I don't want to be coated in your head cheese; for when you get too close the waves pull you in and over again & over you will spin, like the head of a stick on a drum as it calls out a roll, not like the hay drying in the sun, the evil Beehimer rolls out having fun in wide open spaces while you're stuck in your chair staring at the same dull faces.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-50559772346540900322012-01-23T17:19:00.003-05:002012-01-23T17:35:03.660-05:00Free-pen'ingTrapped in this vile alliance,<br />left to fend for myself,<br />for the validity of my dreams.<br />Alone.<br />Forced to question what I did...<br />is it something I did?<br />Perhaps if I were more...<br />or less...<br />or nothing at all.<br />Perhaps a mouse could slay a lion!<br />I fall deeper in this chasm<br />tumbling & turning<br />over & again<br />with no hope of end<br />to my nausea & exhaustion.<br />They say all beauty must pass<br />this I've found to be true<br />but for a while I conjured a lie so grand<br />as to fool myself to the existence of you.<br />And tonight as it falls,<br />darkness will warm the frozen bits of my shattered soul.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-76623151223536460322012-01-23T16:50:00.001-05:002012-01-23T16:50:58.624-05:00FROM 4 JAN 12Today was interesting. Work was actually fun…they had me teamed up with an so06 cook doing ‘chefty’ stuff today. We have to recreate our entire menu & update the recipes weights, contents, etc to match what we “actually” serve vs. what the book says we serve. It’s a little tedious but more fun than I expected. Makes me wonder if maybe I didn’t make a mistake taking this job afterall…like maybe the stepping stone isn’t so far from where I landed when I made the “mistake” of moving to this town & leaving my old career behind. Who knows? Maybe I’m just bonafide insane now instead of questionably so, as previously insinuated.<br /><br />The gym was awesome. Only had about 45 minutes to kill because we went to the store on the way, but the expresso was open so I jumped on. I knew I had to squeeze in a lot in a short time, so I decided to try a long ride. So far the longest I’ve done was 5.4 miles, so I didn’t think 8.4 would be that big of deal. Yeah….I hit the wall at 5 miles. I pushed through, but it wasn’t pretty! I’m glad no one could tape or anything b/c I know I was making faces that only doulas regularly see. But I made it! And when I crossed that finish line, I very nearly did the double fist pump & yelled “HELL YEAH I BROUGHT IT!” But I didn’t… Ok, I did…internally. ha! Man, I have never worked so hard on a machine as I do on that one. I LOVE EXPRESSO!!!=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-83038159129751396622011-08-30T22:51:00.003-04:002011-08-30T23:01:07.275-04:00Does my narcissism know no bounds?I've started a website for my philosophical essays. Don't ask why, because I have no idea what could've possibly made me think I can muster the energy to nurture yet another project. However, a bunch of really odd things have played out recently that have caused the gears to turn once more. Perhaps someday within the next 2 years, you will see me writing about my antics at one Cornell University's Sage School of Philosophy, as has been the "pipe dream" since 2002.<br /><br />http://feelossohfur.weebly.com/<br /><br />:)<br /><br />Think freely, my friends.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-50972022855215250132011-05-17T04:57:00.003-04:002011-08-30T23:00:13.883-04:00Moved...May 17, 2011<br /><br />Well this move is officially - 50% done. Maybe 60%.... I should be glad to be moving into this stage of my life, but it seems that I'm just destined for drama. I officially have 11 months and 15 days left in this lease. I hope that I can last that long with this man. Funny how you can be solid for so long and then all of a sudden just want to never see them again. Honestly, I'll be happy to just live in the kids' bedroom for the remainder of the lease. Good God.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-16165655559939905612011-05-08T16:26:00.000-04:002011-05-08T16:27:04.241-04:00Addictions...It calls out to me like a forlorn lover, whispering pleadings of a final secret tryst. But where the meeting of anguished lovers leads to yet another, and another, one after the other, nibbles and pinches of attention in darkened corners of torrid corridors, so too would this follow should I allow such a seemingly minor infraction of the new Law to occur.<br /><br />And still it beckons, like a raging heartbeat from beneath the floorboards begging for acknowledgement, beseeching too pathetically for ignored actions to find themselves reversed, and instead caught open-palm with grace and acceptance.<br /><br />Lo, my will is strong! I will not bow to this inanimate thing…this beast of gears, plastic parts and guilt!<br /><br />I will not hear…<br />I will not…<br />I will…<br />…not betray it’s seductive wail and teasing curves as it appears to inch bit by bit closer to the door, fluttering its wares like curled eyelashes of an over effervescent schoolgirl just outside the full view of my frame. Entranced, I rise and approach it. A heavy sigh escapes as if long separated lovers had reunited and as I find myself caught up in the euphoria of her coolness stinging and caressing the soles of my feet, the rush of anticipation as the verdict is deliberated…<br /><br />…3…<br />…2…<br />…1…<br /><br />…And as quickly as it swelled, the fall ensures. The jury has spoken. The judge has delivered. The accused walks the day as both convict and jailer, dually penitent and punishing. Dutifully, the sentence will be carried out in waves of restrictions, self-loathing, exertions and reminders of sheep who stray and are forever lost to the flock. Vowing always to never again lay eyes on the vice, yet knowing the call will grow to an inexcusable volume in due time once more.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-61975355309078401972011-05-08T16:25:00.000-04:002011-05-08T16:26:36.464-04:00From the Brink...Today, I hiked the Super Mario Bros Trail with Sam. We tried to find the Ridge Trail to the jumping point, but our 1st attempt landed us on a deer trail and a sudden end to that path. Now, he knew that trail wasn’t the regular way to the Ridge Trail. He believed me when I insisted that I’d witnessed other hikers ascending it. Even though he knew I had never myself taken that path, nor had I even seen the Ridge path, he led the way on my insistence, up the near vertical staircase of roots, stones and crevices, happy to just explore uncharted terrain with me. When the path delivered an overlook, we determined that following the “trail” towards the sound of the rushing water surely would lead to the actual Ridge trail, but instead the path proved itself a poorly developed deer trail.<br /><br />Facing a steep slope, no trail, no roots to grab and a muddy slide/fall some 30 feet to the bottom, I contemplated my mortality in a very real and tangible fashion for the 1st time in a long time. I’m quite glad to report that my thoughts were not of accolades that I would not have had the chance to accomplish, but of the faces of my three cherubs, and the life with them that I would cruelly be starved of even as worms could become fat with full bellies of my corpse’s putrid leftovers. And of the irony of my most sacred and favorite sanctuary becoming the last place on God’s beautiful Earth that my living eyes would experience.<br />For a solid few minutes as I could hear and sense Sam making the treacherous descent, even as these thoughts filled my heart, I feared for his skidding straight past me, shooting over the tiny lip on which I was presently perched clasping a well-placed yearling tree. Caught in a moment of contemplation, I knew I must leap out of his way so that he could have a chance at grabbing the small trunk, or create an alternate transverse route. I did both. Quickly, I slid to the left, spun my back to the creek and caught a well-placed stone with the toe of my right foot, just in time to witness Sam land at the tree and realize my sandal was off my heel.<br /><br />We made it to the bottom, muddy, scratchy and teasing each other about our adventurous spirits, but for me the exercise proved a grander point: Trust is real, and Faith exists.<br /><br />We did re-enter the main trail, and even found our way to the Ridge Trail. The climbs and descents always teach me new and exciting or frustrating truths about my body and psyche, but beyond the fascinating secrets of the gorge, or the beauty of the vista offered at the cliffs towering several stories above the 3rd Dam, I will take with me from this adventure something no amount of vocabulary can express. Perhaps we are adrenaline junkies, or perhaps the condition of an extended winter hardened our resolve, and therefore the persistence for adventure, or maybe we are just two peas in a rock-n-roll pod. Life changes us as we change it, but as long as we face it together, we conquer it – not the other way around.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-73670645760907392182011-03-03T11:07:00.003-05:002011-03-03T11:10:52.325-05:00Hope...Dare I venture a walk in the waters of hope?<br /><br />The tide seems to be turning. There is the eternal struggle of little negative things piling up, but then there is this new pile that has been trickling in. Tidbits of positivity & welcome changes. And it's giving the balance scales a run. Perhaps this moment in time will truly be worth remembering as important & positive.<br /><br />One can dream, ay? :)=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-30847840278469817492010-10-21T13:18:00.004-04:002010-10-21T14:53:39.105-04:00My penanceI'm slowly realizing that there is no God.<br /><br />I have struggled with this concept for most of my life. And what the peeling layers are revealing is that there is indeed, no God but the one I create in my head. There is no hand of fate stirring my pot, save for the one attached to my own arm, stirring the pot of choices inside my wicked little mind.<br /><br />I miss them so much. My heart is cracked and my soul is withered. And it's all my fault... No blame but my own naivete. <br /><br />It's not really depression. Just the blistering pain of being fully aware that this is my reality and there is no hope for help outside of myself.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-1652593670232792172010-09-24T15:23:00.003-04:002010-09-24T15:34:34.031-04:00Motherless Child, Childless MotherThis time of year always finds me toiling. When I was younger, they called it "Seasonal Affective Disorder". It came. I slept. It left. When I was in my 20's, I was just "contemplative & restless". It came. I wrote. It left. Now, it's a straight-out depression. It came. I swallow pills. It stays.<br /><br />I find myself often contemplating life in general, as well as my purpose in this great big web of lies. How is it that some of us struggle so much, while others seem to just have the pieces fall into place? Some of us have our paths so clearly laid out in our heads that nothing could derail them. Others of us struggle to find a path our whole lives. <br /><br />Ugh. I don't even have the attention span to finish this....=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-60778626392402074892010-07-15T08:47:00.003-04:002010-07-15T08:52:53.439-04:00Is this the end of Hekaterina as I know her? The muse seems to have completely left. There is no passion in my soul to exude. I wish I could say "lately" but honestly, it's been over a year now since I wrote anything worth sharing. I'm more than a little concerned. Frankly, I'm distraught. Imagine trying to speak and not being able to move your tongue. That's what me without words is. I've always written. Always. I wish I had my 1st journal still. Sometimes I'd like to find that midget that burned down our house and kick him in the groin as hard as possible for all the things he stole from me, from my family. Then I remember...oh yeah...I did meet him. Too bad I didn't realize it in time. I would've had some choice words for him, trust me. Now I'll probably never get that chance. But then again, famous last words...=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-19975279378588619612010-06-23T00:11:00.002-04:002010-06-23T00:15:50.415-04:00angerI'm not sure why, but lately I'm having very real anger issues.<br /><br />I mean, seriously? I'm not 15. What's going on here, anyway? I'd really like to figure it out. What IS it that's got me so tied up? I wish I knew. I wish I could say I was even close to knowing. Honestly, the only thing I know for sure is that I'm very unhappy in just about every aspect of my life. <br /><br />I guess part of it is that I'm just so disappointed. I see myself as a failure. A product of a failed system, there really is nothing glimmering anymore. I wish I could say this was quiet (or boisterous, even) desperation, but really it's not. I'm not depressed. I'm not depraved. I'm not even tired. I'm just finally seeing it all with fully opened eyes.<br /><br />Is this really all I've become?=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-26683644476946227652010-06-18T17:11:00.002-04:002010-06-18T17:21:06.976-04:00Been a while...I guess I've wanted to update. I just didn't figure I had anything worthy of whining about. At least...not to the general intarwebz publix. Anyway...<br /><br />I just finished two months with a personal trainer. It pretty much changed my life. I eat completely different than I used to. I'm about 10 pounds lighter and a size or two smaller, including the sisters, but hey, win some-lose some...I'll consider it a WIN. EPIC. They've been crowding me out for a while now anyway. Damn ignorant bitches. <br /><br />So, I've been trying to decide which direction my life is taking me lately.<br /><br />And I've come up with...swirling the doldrums.<br /><br />My compass seems to be broken. It just keeps spinning. Normally this wouldn't alarm me, but I've been fixing said instrument & realigning said navigations for the better part of two years, this voyage. I'm beginning to think I've gone round the bend. Perhaps there is no fixing this damage. Perhaps I shall just embrace it with every quivering fiber of my blackened being.<br /><br />The Muse has left me, I'm afraid.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-76415371432889045742010-04-22T21:49:00.002-04:002010-04-22T22:13:29.437-04:00Life MusingsSo, seeing as I have had a wagon load of free time the last week or so, I've been noticing some things. <br /><br /> 1. I get bored easily.<br /> 2. When I get bored, I get antsy.<br /> 3. When I get antsy, I find interesting things to do.<br /> 4. Interesting things get me in trouble.<br /> 5. Trouble LOVES me.<br /><br /> 6. I dream too much & work too little.<br /> 7. Time passes too fast for my mind to follow.<br /> 8. When I want words, I get images.<br /> 9. When I have images, I get sketch-blocked.<br />10. When I want ideas, I get words without ambition.<br /><br />11. I already gave up on this list.<br /><br />:)<br /><br />6:00 a.m. with the trainer. Oops. I lied. 7:00 a.m. with the trainer. I have to be up at 6. Do you know the last time I saw 6 & was upright? Yeah, me neither. The man is gonna kill me.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-2958604305170825512010-04-21T15:02:00.002-04:002010-04-21T15:42:59.125-04:00WTF happened to April?No, seriously. Where's April? I know I was busting my ass the first part of the month to finish out the tax season, but tomorrow is Earth Day, for Jesus H. Christ's sake! (BTW, if you follow Sam's recent drunken logic, the "H" must stand for Hitler, but that's another blog entirely, and one I'm bound to get to sooner rather than later, b/c honestly, it's funny ass shit) And now, it's been one week since you looked at me, tossed your head to the side...ah fuck. So anyway, 7 measley days since Tax Day, and where have I been? Oh yeah, I was hiding out in Ithaca at Sam's cabin b/c I conjured ::dun, duhn, dunnnnnn:: The Pox, Chicken if you're nasty, & Measles. Ohhh, so that's where those 7 measley days went. Dang!<br /><br />So, the rash is healed over (minus ONE stubborn mountain of a pock) but I'm still running a fever & glands are still swollen. Doc says no work until Monday. Grrrz. Meh. IDK what's worse...being home or being home. *pout*<br /><br />On happier fronts, I have recently acquired a conglomeration of new acrylic paints, brushes & canvases, (and by acquired I mean, AC Moore had a booku bitchin sale!) with which I plan to display my lament. MWuHaHahHahHah! :D <br /><br />I've also been working on the latest novel. The leg work is what's killing my motivation on this one. I want to get to the nitty gritty. Dang! Write, kitty, write!<br /><br />Now to drown myself in my whole wheat spaghetti, lightly tossed in olive oil, garlic & italian blend spices, fresh cracked pepper & butter. Yes, butter. Processed foodstuffs aren't going in THIS temple any longer! Meh. Butter.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-515330382255297722010-03-24T00:35:00.003-04:002010-03-24T00:51:53.401-04:00So...wait...WHAT?!Yeah...that's me literally SCREECHING.<br /><br />I just found out that by 2014 I am going to be PENALIZED for not having insurance.<br /><br />My EMPLOYER is exempt from offering me insurance, b/c I am one of 2 employees.<br /><br />Because I am single, even though my income is lightly moderate, I am outside the 'safe range' of the FPL.<br /><br />My annual PENALTY for NOT RACKING UP MEDICAL BILLS or using the medical system will be approx $695-750. *side note: I have NEVER had insurance & I have NEVER spent that much in one year for health care bills.*<br /><br />& that's just ONE part of this wonderful BILL that is going to FUCK ME OVER. But you know who it helps? The ghetto. The low-incomers. The people we are ALREADY working our asses off to support.<br /><br />I'm so SICK TO DEATH of this NEW USA & it's fucking CHANGE.<br />I'm SICK of fucking OBAMA & the CHANGE TROOPS.<br />I'm SICK of the UNITED LIARS of AMERICA.<br /><br />I thought Bush was horrid. I thought it couldn't possibly get any worse. I was wrong. Shoulda left the continent back then when I had age & naiivity on my side. I'd drink myself to sleep except I can't afford to risk liver damage in my late years. FUUUUUUUUUCK. <br /><br />p.s. no offense to any of my friends who support our President. I don't specifically have issue with HIM, just his policies. Most of all, I guess I'm just frustrated that this whole thing is getting rushed into place just b/c he promised it. I mean, really...Health Care Reform has been desperately needed for a long while now, but rushing to push it out JUST BC he promised it is NOT a good enough reason to get it done in this way. There are SO many BIGGER issues that are being ignored. I don't even think I was this frustrated with G.Dub. And he was a Class-1 Grade A Dumbshit.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-51281375324107055882010-03-05T21:43:00.002-05:002010-03-05T21:54:12.323-05:00Fresh Start March...WTF?I've been on this weird radical eff'd up journey over the last year or so. I wish I could calm my sensory overload long enough to write about it, but the truth of the matter is that I'm still fully experiencing all of it. Who the hell wants to stop the ride just to indulge some voyeuristic tendencies?! LOL <br /><br />That being said, it is definitely time to get back to business.<br /><br />My weight hasn't budged in 6 months, although I've lost 2 pants sizes. And I'm really not that much better off emotionally, financially or spiritually than I was a year ago. Truth be told, I might as well have just offed myself because all I've done in the last 365 days of my "rebirth" is take up space. Oh yeah, btw, today is the one year anniversary of the day I nearly removed myself from the gene pool in a fairly permanent sort of manner (no accounting for reincarnation, mind you).<br /><br />Meh. Perhaps it's the flu talking. Perhaps I'm just bored. Angst is always good fodder for the creativity gods. Eff it. I'm not too proud to admit that I'm not special. That's probably been the biggest realization of the last year, for me. All my life I was groomed to be "something" and in the end, it's come to light that I am truly just "nothing different" at all. LOL I wonder if my mother can realize that from wherever she's at now. A lot of good all that prodding, poking, bitching and destruction of my self-esteem did. And for her own, regarding horrible parenting skills she thought my failures proved--which is complete bullshit because anyone who knew her knows what a decent soul she really was. I'm not sure I'll ever understand why she chose to torture herself via my childhood incarnation. Because in the end, we both failed. She just got to leave the party earlier.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-66021076221587997432010-01-02T00:04:00.002-05:002010-01-02T00:08:29.905-05:00Bloggity Blog...Just a note... I have moved all my personal works (poetry/prose, etc.) to my Facebook fan page. There is a link on the sidebar if you're interested.<br /><br />That being said, I'm going to start using this blog more regularly. My other outlets have become stale. My brain just died. Time for sleep.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7878369526388710794.post-5524960799868334122009-12-30T10:31:00.003-05:002009-12-30T10:58:16.316-05:00I'm not a poet.This is nothing more or less than a rant of sorts.<br /><br />I battle daily with my quest to understand not only my existence, but my creative purpose. Writing has been a drug for me ever since my frustrated mother gave me my first journal when I was 7 years old. She didn't know how to help me with my "anger issues" and someone told her that would be a good idea. I mean, what do you do to help a small child with no understanding or reason why she is so frustrated with the world? And so, I began journaling. Daily. Religiously. And within a month or so, my mother started perusing my pages. Most of the time she'd find whatever it was that she was looking for and it'd satisfy her for a while. A pat on the head coupled with a accepting smile, and life was good. For her. For me, however, the paper became a crutch, an appendage. I could barely go a full day without daydreaming about how I would "let them all have it" (in written form, of course) as soon as I got home to my pretty cotton candy pink sanctuary with the grape sno-cone colored plushy carpet.<br /><br />And then one day, the Rage.<br /><br />It was during that desolate time of year between Christmas and Easter, probably somewhere around that Cupid's card holiday that I started contemplating my own existence, as well as the existence of an Afterlife or our human understanding of said post-corporeal existence. I discovered four little words that would forever change my relationship with not only my mother, but the world at large: "I Want To Die."<br /><br />In my mind, was I angry? Yes. Was I suicidal? No. Not even remotely close. I had already been contemplating the eternal versus the transient nature of our bodies, when I just had a really bad day. I finally let loose the thoughts that I had been holding back. I was systematically testing the limits of my own physical boundaries, as well as the intelligent understandings of my eight rotations around the Sun. But, all creative geniuses have their antithesis. Mine just happened to be the Birth-Giver. And She was not happy while flipping the pages that day, I can assure you.<br /><br />...So what does this have to do with not being a poet?<br /><br />I have a "Collection of Poetry" blog. I have volumes of poetry in paper journals. I have poetic artwork that flows from my poetic fingertips. But in essence, I am a Philosopher. I write cryptically because it is safer to be cryptic than to let it all flow freely for the general population to slip in.=^..^=http://www.blogger.com/profile/08085535912163620737noreply@blogger.com2