Tuesday, October 30, 2018

The meeting

"Huddle time," a voice shouts. 
Murmurs begin to whisper about. 
It's that time again. 
Same time every day. 
It comes around so fast I forget it exist. Wasn't it just this time yesterday? 
Where did 24 hours go? I wonder as i lean against the wall. 
This very blah room could ruin anyone's day. 
It simply was nothing but gray.
The furniture and walls just meshed into one. Nothing existed in this room except numbers and machines. Everyone falls in line all humdrum and sad, except for me. 
My position is perfect. This view is means for an escape. 
I'm outside now. 
Sitting under a perfect tree. With it's perfect green leaves and perfect brown bark. In the perfect shade. In the perfect grass. In the perfect sun. Putting sunflowers in my hair. 
Watching ladybugs dance through the air, laughing and taunting the ants below. 
"Oh silly ants, you don't know how to be free. All you do is labor on like the worker bees. No fun is had. No dancing and laughing. Just work, work, work while the time just keeps passing." 
A lady bug lands on my hand as I nod in agreement. Silly ants. They just don't know what to believe in. How can you labor all day while this beautiful, colorful world is here for you to enjoy? 
"Let's go Meadow. Back to the grind," the voice floats. Pounding on my eardrums. 
I shake my head as someone pushes me from behind. 
I'm in line again in this gray, soulless room. 
No longer outside enjoying the view. 
I'm buzzing back to my desk and it cuts like a knife. I am the worker bee and the silly little ant. 
I lose it all until next time. 
'Til the next meeting. 
Now back to the grind. 

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Me.....?

I came across this in a different post and I figured i could answer these questions better in a poem.
1. Who am I?
2. Who have I been?
3. Who do I want to be?
What picture would be better to accompany this post than the most RAW I have. This is me now, at 30. Tired after traveling for 3 days to get to Malaysia ((long story)) yet the absolute happiest I've ever been. I'm a mother, author, and world traveler that FIRMLY believes in being as AUTHENTIC as possible, inside and out. Rawness is what makes us ALL who we are. This post is just to let you know a little bit more in a general sense. I mean,  we've all been "there" before. We're different yet We're all the same.
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Poem below 😊
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Who am I they ask?
Who have I been they ponder?
What do I want to be?
She's been through it all, how can she smile?
It must be fake they surmise.
All these whispers but not one asks me.
Well I am me and that's all i can be i shout.
Simple as that.
I repeat it DAILY.
I tell myself that my past doesn't dictate ME. I have done it all and seen it all. I've been a monster born of despair and wickedness. Spreading the same hateful whispers that i have to hear today.
I apologize to those I made waver when they tried to stand talk despite all that was not in their favor.
I've been the darkness trying to dim someone else's light. The hurt and the pain I've inflicted cut deeper than any knife.
But I know now that what i did was wrong. Thats who i have been but I'm not anymore. I've grown to realize that while I'm not quite there yet, I know i can gain more than I've lost in myself. I'll be whole again, at least that's what i say. I strive to be better than I've ever been before.
Who I want to be is me plus a little bit more.
I'll get there one day, that I'm sure.
But until then, I'll keep being me and nothing more.

Thursday, October 11, 2018

Poetic Justice.....5.38

If I told you that a flower bloomed in a dark room, would you trust it?

It's only right that the person who finally, albeit unknowingly, helped me crossover into the blogging world is a poet. Blogging from https://poeticlyblessed.blogspot.com/....oh the irony, considering the fact that I loathe poetry. Maybe, just maybe, deep down I want to be a poet. Not really sure if I'm deep enough. Or maybe I ramble too much. And I keep going and then I have a novel on my hands.
I can't stop at a page.
I can't stop at a paragraph.
I can't stop myself......
As the rain beats against my window pane and this child's hand sits on my chest, I feel so alive. The energy flows through me. I'm up writing away at 5.38 am and I know I've found my PURPOSE....but I gotta get up. Gotta get back to the grind in less than an hour. It's just my passion is too much to ignore.
This is me.
This is who I am.....let me get ready to put on my mask.....another day of pretend.

T&E Thursday part 💬

 🥴🥴 Let's just say the 1st 2 weeks were anomalies....🤔🤔 or maybe this week is the anomaly because I have NOT been on it. Idk what ha...