Know Thyself

in case you wanna "listen" to what is going on with my inner self here is my latest:
i wanna let go of trying to PROVE anything to anyone. i just want to be REAL and let the chips fall where they may!

i am AWAKE to how much of a 'CHAMELEON' i have been in my relationships- bending myself to fit others. does not work. fake. not truth
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I lived in a duplex in the summer of 1987. I was on summer break from college, and (in a dedicated move of independence) I didn't want to live with my parents. So, I got my own place.

I was working two jobs and getting home really late at night. And even though in the eyes of any observer I was living alone, I wasn't really. I was living with Bruce Springsteen.

I had a cassette tape of Nebraska. And I played that thing ragged. The national fad that Born in the U.S.A. had become was still lingering in the nation's collective mind. But, for me, it was all about Nebraska. It felt like I had unlocked an old trunk in the attic and found a treasure that no one knew about.

When I was younger, I had friends who would listen to an album rock station out of Dallas. Some of them stayed up one night recording The River. Then, they dedicated long hours to meticulously pouring over cassette tapes (there were two), pausing and rewinding, so the lyrics could be written down in a spiral notebook for reference and memorization.

By virtue of the fact I knew people that committed to Springsteen, I had written off the possibility that he could be cool or have any talent. But, in that musty old duplex, late at night, I was baptized in the bleakness of the Nebraska tracks, austere and unforgiving.

My little 9-inch black-and-white TV only picked up one local station, since I didn't have cable. So, my entertainment came from the old jambox, and I was an assiduous listener to the tales told by The Boss.

I'm occasionally visited by memories of those bygone days when I'd wake in the middle of the night and shuffle around the duplex. The wooden floors creaked, and there was no furniture other than my twin bed and the sleeper sofa in the living room left by a previous tenant.

I felt very transitory.

My first book, "Stumbling and Mumbling", has been published and is up for sale!  It is a book with my poetry and prose.  The writing in this book covers issues like domestic violence, love, death, mourning, revenge, suicide, addictions, growing up, and finding oneself.

I am selling it for only $7.99!

If you are interested in ordering a copy, click below:

Ladies and Gentlemen, something has landed:

 

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. And if I consider it a lot - it means way out of my normal thinking cap, like huuuuge amounts of thoughts passing through my already overwrought brain. Anyway, and this is not even a new thought, but one I didn’t want to think about that much because there wasn’t enough room in there. (Let’s just say that thinking is my obsession lately.)

 

What I have come to realise is that: 1) I’m not very normal, and 2) I hate the word Normal. God knows if I ever was considered that among all the things people think me of. But I’m kind of ok with that not normal way of being. If people want to love me, I demand to be loved despite the fact that I’m a bit peculiar, because Love is a choice. Even for parents, although that must be considered radical. But friends - definitely. And partners - hell yeah!

 

I know my "good" and "bad" sides. I drink too much, smoke too much, talk too much, think too much, stay up until 5 in the morning, obsess over details, leave the dishes for a week, forget to eat, never remember important things, am always late, can’t finish any fucking thing I start with, and I can never make choices when there’s too many options. / Like for example. I got this idea that I wanted to wear glasses. Ok, so now I’m sitting here with four pairs (which is good because I can never find them if I had only two). One for every mood I’m in. Or perhaps one for every season. Or one in every colour? Variety!! Why do I have to choose? Thing is: as far as it is possible - I Want It All.

 

But I actually like my little weirdness’s, because they make me Me. More people should be proud of the things that makes them special!

 

 

And with that in mind now:

 

Those boxes people likes to put other people in..  Making it so hard; even impossible, to fit in if there’s just one fucking box of stereotypes that would have to contain all of me!

I’m sorry but i just can’t. Its against the nature, my nature. (Or I’m just too clumsy to fit.) Too rebellious. Uncomfortable. I will start to question it. I will break the safety net of that cage, with my un-cinderellable feet. I don’t like to choose; meaning those definitive choices of commitment to a certain box. And when I’m saying "box" I mean all those structures that tells us how to behave and to be, to fit in.

Fitting in is not a virtue. It’s to be a lost sheep.

I can be a black sheep, but not a lost one, because no one knows my road.

I.can.not.be.limited.

Because maybe Now I’m like this, and Tomorrow like that.

Maybe I’m gay And straight.

Maybe I am a buddhist But maybe i am not.

Maybe I’m just anything + nothing.

 

 

Let’s just indulge in my more doubtable sides for a moment, shall we;

 

When I get intrigued by something, I´m starting out with a curiosity to explore, that will blind others. But I spend soooooo much time collecting all the details around the subject that in the end I grow tired of the main target and never starts it out even, continuing on to something else, because I bored myself on the way. And I leave another unfinished project aside. Which is of course a reason to that I know sooooo much about soooo many things and issues but I never really arrived anywhere with it at all. Wasted knowledge, I know.

I don’t have the same time as everyone else seem to have. I mean, I am aware of the paradox of time being invented by man and not really exists in the way we live by it. But how can all those other people fit it into their lives? I have constantly; without exceptions, either too much time or not enough. I don’t think that I have been anywhere in a place right on time. It’s hilarious, because it’s so fucking impossible that other people can and i cannot. Is there a secret that I’ve missed out on from birth? It is as if I had my own time, ticking slightly out of synch from the rest of the world. For me; a moment is an eternity and eternity a moment. Actually, it’s not Me having a trouble with my time, but people around me of course. But I suffer with them on my behalf.

 

I have so many dreams that they don’t even fit in onto my Vision Board. And I didn’t make the damn thing yet. I don’t know which one is bothering me most.

 

I sometimes sleep in a dress. (blue one with circles) Just because it’s beautiful.

And the first thing I ever saved money to buy, was a tiara. It may not be the most natural thing to do. But I do see a princess in the mirror every now and then.

 

I’m in love with words. Fabrics. Beautiful pictures. Movies. Things. People. Moments.

I talk to myself. I talk to my cat. I sometimes talk to people I don’t know.

I am a bohemian soul, I control creative chaos.

Sometimes I love Life. Sometimes I want to leave it.

 

I am caring and loving, my arms are always open for comfort, I’m funny in that self-ironical way, I’m a good listener, supportive towards other peoples lives and choices, I’m devoted to things and people I love and not judgmental against things and people I don’t love, they all co-exist around me.
And sometimes I’m egoistic, grumpy, obnoxious, unreasonable, hurting, bitchy and superficial. I can be a failure too. I can be anything anyone thinks. It’s just labels. And I am a paradox.

 

Does any of all these things make me an alien? What about all of them together? Are they Good/Bad? Yes and No.

 

As it is, no matter what i do, i will always be outside of some box, beyond the labels (god how i hate those, who invented them?), or impossibly annoying to some. And you know what.. it’s OK!

I have forgiven myself for everything. For not fitting in.

Not to get away with it as some bad excuse, just stopped resisting the fact that I’m only me. Whatever will be, I’ll always be Me. Isn’t that great! I stopped trying to be fucking Cinderella with too big feet, stopped pretending that glass-shoe would fit me. I.don´t.want.glass-shoe. My feet are just fine - because they’re mine!

 

Normality, I never wanted it. On the other hand I sometimes envy it, imagining that tranquillity it would fulfill to just have an.ordinary.life. But again; what the hell is that?

The ordinary times - are just moments that we missed on making something extraordinary with!

 

I don’t want to be a Cinderella-character. And yet, at times I envy those Cinderellas who slip into that shoe and it’s just perfect, that too. Seemingly the right size to have it all. But then I remind myself; My aim was never to be perfect.

I think perfection is the greatest myth of all.

 

I guess the conclusion is:  I Am Perfectly Normal For A Person Like Me

 

(I think I´m human, in every possible way.)

 

 

 

A/N: Now, just for your information: The Cinderella-reference has nothing to do with any obsession from my side concerning that fairytale (I hardly envy her at all, and I would never in my life be able to understand how a shoe would symbolize living happily ever after, due to Prince Charming, I mean - do you honestly think he could not recognize the woman that stole his heart but had to test it with a shoe. And made of glass by the way, how uncomfortable and absolutely deadly would that be walking around in?!  The whole story is wrenching and totally misleading for young girls. It might also have had a strong influence on the female fixation of buying tremendous amounts of shoes, right?) It was used as a metaphor for "Not Fitting In".

 

Twirling flowers  

by: nancyclaire

 

Children oft’ create the dance

While outside they decide

How each flower can be met

With lilies on each side

 

They simply pluck a flower’s steam

and turn it upside down

to plainly see a lady’s skirt

Soft petals, sweet and kind

 

For hours they, may be at play

While time is passing by

So happily they sit and stay

With field of flowers on their minds

 

 

Spring is upon us

by: nancyclaire

 

For many months the earth has been asleep

While blanketed in soft and gentle snow

With patience, we would sit around the fire

And sip our steaming mugs to watch the show

Our houses hummed, with conversations

Rich in content, warm in tone

For half the year we've all been waiting

And now, my friends, there’s no debating

 

The spring has finally come

Destiny precedes one’s destination

A poetic prose...

still not quite a pure poem!

by: nancyclaire

 

God gently calls our name

 upon the morn’

While we walk amidst

The dewy grass

That boarders the bed of Our Lady’s roses

 

What pray tell, do such flowers represent

It is we her children who rely on her maternal protection

 

All our victories belong to her

Our reigning Queen of Heaven

She is wise and pure

The greatest human

A humble mother

 

Think then about your own life

Are you only thinking of the ends to justify the means

See how Mary simply said “yes” to God everyday of her life

She was poor, obedient, and because of faith

very brave

 

Each of us has a unique set of mini missions in life

If is not for us to decide the measure of our God given greatness

Rather, we are truly living when we follow our Lady

Who leads us step by step in the footprints of her son

Whom she knows more perfectly than any of us

 

Do the day

Let God lead you again tomorrow

Trust in the Lord

Worry not

 

“Life is a journey, NOT a destination”

(Someone said that...)!

Each day dawns a new beginning

 

Upon rising, I fill my lungs deeply with fresh air

Everything is become new.

The doves and robins sing their song

As clean clothes slide down over my shoulders.

Happily I rush downstairs for coffee and a bagel

Then I feed the indoor cat and outdoor squirrels and chipmunks

The air is alive with the musk of autumn that slept beneath the winters’ snow.

All is well in God’s abundant natural world.

Everywhere I look holds hope for a good day and a rich harvest for the summer.

Soon I shall plant tomato and cucumber seeds in little pots

With hope they will grow with great beauty and soon after

Plant them in the earth that has long awaited them.

 

At times I see myself as the earth in early spring.

I have lain dormant due to illness yet I find hope in God’s plan for my life.

“Consider the lilies of the field and the birds of the air”

See how good God is to them who have done nothing to deserve such mercy.

I am comforted in the knowledge of God’s even greater love for humankind!

Thanks be to God

I expect miracles everyday!

 

Hi
Just wondering...
Is there a goal to this group, or...
do we just write whatever we want that 's true to our personal nature?
Hope you'll help the newbee here :)
later ^_-