31 Days of Blogging

I feel compelled to confess… many things, actually. Honestly, I didn’t expect much to emerge from this blog except to have a little cyber space of my own to motivate me and grant me the permission I needed to set aside my dedication to work and domestic responsibilities before they sucked every last bit of life out leaving nothing left behind.  Now, I realize I was quite selfish when starting this blog endeavor, and so what? It was my New Year’s resolution, not yours.  The first week went swimmingly well, but on the second week I was losing my resolve fast, and I was a bit lost and confused, so I started poking my nose into other people’s business and was pleasantly surprised by what I found. I discovered a brand new world of talented people with similar aspirations that I never really knew existed, at least not on this magnitude.  The more posts I read, the more nuggets of wisdom, inspiration and enjoyment I found.  The poetry, short stories, personal journals were all fascinating pieces of work, and I could browse all of this great content at no cost, wow – why didn’t anyone tell me this! Now, I look at others and their work with a newfound appreciation and a bit of envy at times. Also, I’ve discovered I’m a stat slut (naturally, size does matter) and there is no getting beyond that because I’m exhilarated every time I see the numbers grow before my eyes.  Moreover, I am honored and thrilled to have your readership.  Your support, follows, likes and comments have provided a bounty beyond compare that fills me up with the courage and determination to continue with what feels right, and that is to simply write something everyday. May our muses continue be amused and embrace as they dance face to face and whisper the words we long to hear.

Sincerely,

Kelly

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Dear Fear: Published to a Visible Audience

My first blog post of 2014 was a letter addressed to Fear (click here to read), which was fueled by my need to overcome the demons that continuously warred with me, so that I could move forward with writing.  The leader of the unit was none other than Mr. Fear because he held the highest position of power.  Naturally I went after the leader to eradicate those that plagued me and held me back.

I felt surge of pride, having attacked my enemy so vigilantly through a slurry of words (and maybe slightly slurred) that I decided to share a very personal letter with none other than the entire invisible Universe known as Bloggers-ville. A place where I could moderate comments and delete the posts if necessary and then pretend as if it never happened.

Well I blew that opportunity by submitting my letter for publication and publicizing my new site by sending out broadcast messages to the entire Inland Empire, California Writers Club and its members.  Like an Air Traffic Controller directing folks to come down my runway. I was tickled pink to see my letter in January’s installment of Fresh Ink (freshink2014.01)  that is until I realized what I had actually done – fully exposed myself.  Now I have to face these fine people in person next weekend and I suspect some members will be keeping tabs on my blog and the progress because they are an amazing, caring, sharing, and supportive bunch.  I haven’t decided yet if that is a good or bad thing – only time and my actions will tell. What it does do for me is create a sense of obligation, pushing me to keep up with this endeavor and that’s okay because I love challenge and I (always) play to win. At this point, I’m feeling pretty optimistic and that’s truly a cathartic feeling that I’m not wiling to let go of any time soon.

Sweet Seconds

The vibrant crystal blue rock candy stretched out above us with dollops of marsh-mellow cream floating off in to the distance before disappearing over the crest of the sea.  The ground graham cracker dust under foot, warmed by nature’s oven, sloughed off calloused soles and worked its magic to smooth and soften our weary souls. Walking along the shoreline hand in hand, taking comfort in the silence and the beauty all around. Forever, treasuring the sweetness of every second spent with you.

Blogger Estate

What a curious space

I feel a little out of place

Wonder if I’ll ever run out room, and

Need a virtual broom

Despite the prying eyes

I had no choice, but to try

Exposing my voice is scary 

Despite the claims it’s safe

I hesitantly move in

To a pleasant blogger estate

Where I discover new friends

Odds and ends, created with pens 

Snatched

Anchored to a merry-go-round upon the high sea, all I wanted to do was sleep. Swaying back and forth, and round and round the oppressive fog began to lift. I was feeling pretty woozy, so I focused on my breathing.  Breath in. Breath out. Inhale and exhale. Inhale through the nose and exhale through the mouth.  Deep cleansing breathes just like Yogi Master Ly, taught me. He would be proud.  The world lurched forward and violently jolted back.  Was that an earthquake?  What the hell was going on? Evidently I exited the pleasant merry-go-round, and stepped right on to the aggressive tilt-a-whirl while I was busy focusing on my breathing exercises.

It was a matter of when, not if, I’d be tossing my cookies in to the air.  The nausea surged with every tilt of the world.  I wanted off this ride, badly.  I attempted to lift my leg to position my foot to the floor, and nothing. Not good, my neurons were seriously misfiring and forgot to send the message to my leg and foot to move off the bed.

As I lay motionless and weak it occurred to me I never figured out why placing one foot on the floor managed to control the spinning in the room, but it did so I went with it.  I sent up a silent prayer to the Gods of Alcohol, and promised to never drink again if they would grant me mercy this one last time.  It was a simple prayer consisting of only necessities; get one foot to the floor, stop the world from spinning out of control, and make it in the toilet or trash bin – either was really fine by me as long as I didn’t have to change sheets it was all good.

Another failed attempt to move my leg sobered me up some. Determined to move a leg, I raised my right arm to assist and was met with resistance.  Immediately I raised my left arm and discovered the same resistance was holding me back.  Panic-stricken, I raised my head from the pillow and forced my eyes open.

It was very dark in the room but I could see the chains tightly suspended in the air and now felt the cold metal cuff’s biting in to my wrists. I was strapped to the bed. My legs were secured, which was why I couldn’t move them.  I jerked at the chains furiously, yet they wouldn’t give.

As I peered around the darken room I tried to swallow the terror that was threating to overtake me, and to think. I needed to think. My brain felt like cottage cheese. The small mushy curds that refused to stick together, like my thoughts.  Things I knew, my raging headache was not alcohol induced, this time, this was not my bedroom, and I was most definitely in some sort of trouble.

The bedroom door opened casting a muted yellow ray of light across the room, but I didn’t see anyone. In the silence, I called out “who’s there?”

-To be continued-

Amends

Constantly on the go

Never time to simple be

Nor time to be in sync with reality

Reflections on when it all began

A time ago, we use to be friends

Now all we do is pretend

As if we don’t want it to end

At last, you ask me for an amends, and

This really all depends

If you’re willing to fight

A lack of drive, or

Sincere willingness to try

Then I want to say – goodbye

If you my dear, are sincere

Then show me the drive, and

Willingness to survive with

An Ability to forgive, and

A desire to mend a torn heart

Then friends shall be reborn, and

Our love will last until the end