Belligerency

I am on—an edge, rather at a crossroad.

The place that I come from is wonderful

The place where I may go to is wondrous

or perhaps wander-ous.

Like gypsies.

trapped in caravans, contained in

silk, bells about their feet. Tintinnabulation.


Everywhere they go, they bring, music

processional

music.

In a line; predictable in order: 1, 2, 3.


Until they reach my crossroad

beckoning with unrestraint

completely unrestraint.

free. wild. extravagant. feral. abandon. nomadic.

without a Home.

abandoned.

Gypsies come to where I stand.

The location of my existence

To release me from the tedium of ordinary existence.



But from where I stand, the view I see

this place that I come from is

wonderful.

My yoke is light. My days bright.

And my nights…dark of course.

sometimes starry. Other times not.

Pull a shawl around me.

Pander around my room, wishing for tea.

Pose as my personal fairy godmother.

Put on some tea.

Push through the last 1, 2, 3 pages.



Drifting from this wonderful place into



Sleep.

I’m just on edge of unconsciousness.

I’m just on the edge.

I’ve reached the crossroad. Again.

I reach it Every Day.

at times rejecting its challenge

at other times not.

Surpassing that which can be wonderful for that which is wondrous.

Being immanent and transcendent.

Embracing unknown, innovation,

tinkering like bells

Gypsies’ bells

in no given order.

Liberated. Autonomous. Bountiful.

Imaginative. Enlightened. Sound.

as in body and mind.

Stretched

in belief and thought.

Distilled

of enmity and despair.

Filled

with charity and grace.

Matured

from apathy and levity.

Committed

to acceptance and faith.

Washed and made whole.


I am at a crossroad.

I look back to the wonderful

forward to the wondrous

prudent of the wander-ous

and certain to the wonder.

A bell rings.



Round One.

Emotions

Self-Loathing:
I'll admit it: I need saving. I don't know if it's from the Lord type of saving, but more of the saving from the dark, carnivorous thoughts that gnaw on my soul, bit by precious bit only to spit it out because its too unsavory to swallow. I feel defective and I wish I could claw my skin off with nails infested with disease, yellowed from tar. Then sew it back on so my outer appearance reflects how ugly I feel inside.

Misery:
Lots of huffing and even more sighing. I stare down in my empty tankard-even my drink doesn't want to stick around. I haven't even got a shilling to my name, but I ask the bartender to pour another. He declines. I've already had too much of the stuff, but there's tons of room for more.

Ambivalence:
Shrugging. Stuck. Unmoving and hoping to God that this inertia doesn't last too long. I don't have the force--the fortitude--to act. And can't time just tick, tick, tick, faster so my choices are inconsequential? Everything is beuno, everything is tres mal. It's most definitely the worst of times.

Perseverance:
Just outside of my window I can see the sunrise; if I try a little harder I can hear the birds sings as they help the sun usher in a new day. It's just a matter getting up. Out of bed. 5 more minutes. All I can take is five more minutes.

Love:
TBC

Put Your Integrity Away

I don't know, I'm feeling....malaise. But more so on the emotional plane. And like open mouth, insert foot. Tsk tsk.

No matter,

how many times can a person watch the Beyonce video for Countdown? Even though it's appropriation border-lining on thievery. Oh well, but would it have KILLed her camp to alert the original choreographer???

No, none of that.

I go to Walmart frequently and my sister likes pringles. So two days ago I went to Walmart and I got my sister some honey mustard pringles. Well, as you can imagine, I tried one. And how did it taste?


Quote:

It tastes like chicken nugget sauce!

End Quote.

I'm like a one man act or in competition about stupidity.

Ate an egg on a burger today. It tasted like breakfast.

Ice Cream. I Scream.

I've accomplished very little today.

I'm not quite certain how it happen, but I went to bed after 5 am, got up at 7:30 am, went back to sleep at 2pm-ish. Then I thought it was Saturday and that my favorite show was on, so I woke up just in time to see it at 3:28pm, but of course, it was Sunday, so I went back to sleep at 3:30pm. Finally woke up at 7pmish to take my sister to Walmart.

Who turned 13 and got an iPad 2.

And I've been awake ever since then.

Almost got into a wreck *ultra frowny face* and spent nearly two damn hours creating that super fab icon in the top left hand corner. Clever huh? No time management too!

But I digress.

Originally I got two hours of sleep and I was NOT at my best. Every side of the bed was the wrong side when I got up. How do I mean? Well, I threw some clothes on and fell back in the bed waiting for "go time." And I was so suspicious of everyone. Literally asked each member of my family three times if they had my blue denim vest. I refused to take no for an answer/still do. But listened to some gospel music in Spanish and that made me appreciate life.


***

I'm relieved that I've nearly caught up reading. At one point, the jig was up! But I'm down by three and by golly I'm sure no cares if I read them, so I have all the time in the world. <-- Jaded much?

So I got my first "hmm" review. And while I don't want to ruminate over it, I have an obsessive personality (which is why I fic) so it can't be help.

So the review is like, "stab, stab, wound, hehe."
Then my response is, "diddle, daddle, doodle, boo who who."
But I wanted to write, "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah." *deep breath* "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah." *deep breath* "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah." *deep breath* "Blah Blah Blah Blah Blah."
Except I'm thinking, "RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR, RAWR , RAWR, RAWR, RAWR." And those angry sounds the Sims make when they haven't had enough sleep.