My Thoughts

I have always fancied myself a writer. From as early as I can remember, I wrote - stories, poems, editorials, journal entries.  According to my mom, I even began this literacy as soon as I started talking.  She mentioned in my baby book that I often entertained others with my stories as early as 3 years old.  In fact, I often imagined myself working at a newspaper or magazine as a journalist.  I even started this blog hoping to develop a following, believing that it would bolster my confidence to seek publication. Fear of rejection...........................I cannot say enough about this.  My fear of rejection is so deeply personal on many levels.  Taking time to write about my fear of rejection as a separate topic could fill pages and pages as all the levels unwind.  I received lots of attention in school for my writing abilities, and all that assurance did so little to soothe an ego bruised by all the whispers, snide remarks and rejection of most of my classmates.  At about 1

Amy, Today is the epitome of Spring, one of those amazing days you would say actually "sang" to you.  White, puffy clouds linger so lazily in a crystal blue sky, and birds echo a chorus that drowns out humanity's presence  All afternoon I have wanted to spread a blanket on the cool, green grass and lie prostrate, immobile, completely still and get lost in all the possibilities of the world.  Although green is so often associated with envy, the green I see today lulls complacency and harmony.  It is the green of renewal, of possibility. I think of the stories you often told - the ones about running barefoot in the grass, about splashing recklessly in a cool stream and about long, lazy afternoons making shapes out of the clouds.  I always imagine you lost in a world of your own creation.  You may not know it, but the many quirky things you once did to escape a torture and to sooth a bruised soul are the very things that sustain me now.  Your ability to

I was listening to "Stairway to Heaven" today as the sun was at a good even level with the horizon.  Shadows cast over everything.  These late afternoon shadows always make things much more clear to me.  I got lost in revelry, and I couldn't help but think of Amy.  I miss her so much.  There were just too many wonderful and sweet things about her.  I long for her sometimes. I have missed her for a long time.  When Amy was around, the world was a different place.  I am not sure how the world got so crazy.  Many questions dance in my mind.  I wonder at the sense of disappointment and disillusionment that somehow filled the void when Amy left.  I really miss Amy's smile. Daisy petal whispers, Amy's smile and just a little bit of sunshine casting shadows that are not too long in the day - nothing could be more perfect than those things because I know that sometime in the future I'll get to see Amy again. I long for that opportunity. --------------------------

draft date 03/10/2015 I'll look at the people in the new clothes and the shiny cars, and I wonder what did they do to deserve that. I look at the people standing on the side of the road asking for a handout, and I wonder what did they do do to deserve that. I feel less that our lives are earned and more that our lives are just a strange twist of fate. My life feels like a complete failure.  Truly, I feel completely incompetent. I wish I could say I have never been here before; but I can't, because sadly, I've been here all too often. And that voice that whispers, "Let it go; give it to me," tries desperately to comfort me; sadly I can get so little comfort from that lately. I feel worthless, helpless and lost. There was a time when I had a vision, a direction, a purpose. As I edit this piece now almost a month later, I find it difficult to recreate the voice and tone of my original intent.  Writing is like that.  In my very tattered journ

We can never assume that the destination nor the itinerary of our fellow travelers mirrors our own. Boredom often draws me to "Words with Friends" just to have something to fill the time.  Although I love Scrabble, I am not addicted to it; nor am I addicted to the thrill of out pacing my opponents.  I am, however, addicted to competing with myself.  I often create challenges for myself and then learn so much about human nature in the process. Many times as I've played "Words with Friends", I find myself mildly curious, somewhat irritated and often disbelieving at some of the plays made by opponents.  As the game became boring to me, I began finding ways to challenge myself.  That's the great thing about the computer, it keeps statistics.  For example, the game will tell you how many of the recognized 2-letter or 3-letter words you have played.  It will also tell you what percentage of time you use the DL, TL, DW or TW spaces.  Here is where my challeng