It’s Time

I paused yesterday during my internal struggle for peace and realized I have been neglectful. 

I have been neglecting myself. I preach what should be done and when it comes to it, I fall short. 

It’s what happens, I suppose. We are supposed to learn, fail, and grow. 

I wonder when I’ll succeed. When I’ll stop falling short. But these questions I’m never suppose to know. That’s the complexity of life. We live, try our best, and share our wisdom. 

It’s a turbulent journey. 

When life becomes too much to bear, I have to pause and think about being grateful. It doesn’t come easy. I’ve come to realize, it never will. 

In the tradition of using Friday to think about what I’m grateful for, I’ll give you a list. 

It’s small, but it’s truth is real. 

  • In times where I feel alone, a friend shines through and reminds me they’ve always been there. For this, I am grateful for my friends. I have a handful that really know me, and I love them all. 
  • I am grateful for my parents. They do all they can for me, and I never say thank you enough. 
  • I am grateful I have a job. I often loathe it, but it’s still there as long as they find me worthy. 
  • My niece. She’s amazing, smart, funny, and when you’re sad she knows exactly what to do. She’s a true gift. 

Take some time to pause and be grateful. It can be difficult, but it gives new perspective and sometimes that’s all we need to silence the mind. 

He’s pausing, but it’s possible he’s thinking about cookies. 

A Sliver…

Hello my faithful followers. It’s Friday. For some of us, it is a good day. We slack off in the office. We count down the hours until it is time to leave   

Oh Friday. ….

I’m having a difficult time feeling grateful lately. 

Others are reminding me about how awesome things are going, and they are. 

However, I’m a self-sabotager. (I’m making-up this word) 

That’s right people. I sabotage my own happiness. Why? I don’t know. 

I don’t allow myself to be truly happy. I never really have. I force myself to smile, to say hello, to give a hug here and there. It’s exhausting. At the end of the day, I need lots of room and silence to put on a happy face and face the world once more. 

Even as I write this, I pause to contemplate what words I will type next. I’m tired. 

So while I do post about being grateful, finding inspiration, and finding out who you truly are, I have days where it is all out of grasp, and that’s okay. 

There is a bountiful list of things for which we should be grateful. We should seek to find who we are. We should always strive to become better. However, it’s okay to let it slip away, but not too far. 

One day, I’ll stop sabotaging myself. 

Today I will remind myself it isn’t as bad as I think and try to find a sliver of happiness because sometimes a sliver is all we have. 

We Must Love Change

I was in an interview the other day, and I was asked about change. She asked if I thought change was beneficial and if I adapted well.

I nearly laughed. (I’m an awkward person with a knack to make any situation weird)

Instead I held in my sarcastic humor and decided, thankfully, to be serious.

We need change. Without it we will never grow. We will never truly know who we are. If life did not adjust without consulting us first, how would we ever know how to adapt. Change is a necessary tool for our survival.

Adapting to change is difficult. It brings a certain amount of stress though we have no actual idea of the exact amount it will bring. We try and prepare ourselves for the worst and our efforts are never good enough. We then, have to adapt even more, and for some it is beyond what they can handle.

Many times I’ve sat in a pile of my own tears wondering if life was worth the suffering because change wasn’t willing to bend.

These moments test us and we either grow or we fall.

In these moments, or perhaps after the tears and screams, we have to assess. We have to process. We have to take a moment and find out why.

For me, especially lately, I have to look around me and find an ounce of gratitude.

Last Friday or it may have been the Friday before, I posted a list of things for which I was grateful. It seemed to do well, and in the spirit of today’s celebration of 300 followers, I bring you my gratitude list of today.

  1. The will and need to write.
  2. Parents who love and support me.
  3. Access to the internet so that I may entertain you.
  4. A dog. He’s the reason I’m here.
  5. Friends. I have some really great friends.
  6. Finding a job.
  7. A new adventure.
  8. Stove Top Stuffing (I know, but I seriously love it)
  9. Paid bills
  10. Change.

Being grateful can be a challenge. Change is difficult. Being strong isn’t easy. But you weren’t put on this earth to ride the kiddy train, were you?
Happy Friday. May change make you grateful.
Here’s a picture of my dog. He makes me happy.

 

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He finally gave in.

300! (No, not the movie)

Many may scoff at the number. Their blogs with followers that reach the thousands, or perhaps they are even being paid for their endeavors. 

While I aspire to become more like them, I must acknowledge the people who keep my dream alive. 

Today, at the meek hour of approximately 3 am, this blog has 300 followers. 

300! Hey, that’s a lot of people. 

This blog has been running for about 7 years, possibly more, I’d have to look that up. 

I’ve written words that made us laugh, cry, shiver, and possibly words that gave us hope and made the day a bit brighter. 

However, I would never grow if it weren’t for the readers. So I thank you. 

Thank you for reading. Thank you for following. Thank you for letting me be me. 

It’s Not That Bad

It’s Friday, and all I can think about is how horrible the week was. However, I have to pause. I have to think about anything good, anything. So here it goes.

  1. I managed to find myself safe.
  2. I managed to not sleep in my car.
  3. I received money so I could find my way back home.
  4. People only give what they can, and that’s okay.
  5. I found the will to write 4 times.
  6. I was able to watch TV which included a horror movie.
  7. I have WiFi.
  8. My car is nice.
  9. I have good health.
  10. I have food.

There, 10 things. Not too shabby. I need to do this more often, or more than often, I will find myself in a negative thought process and the only place that will lead me is a cold shower, and orange jump suit, and a girlfriend or four. Because as we know, I’m too pretty for prison.

 

Happy Friday, and as someone I know would tell me, Be Blessed. For me, be grateful.

I Was Brainwashed Once.

I have a rant. You can say what you want, but please, for the love of all things, stop judging.

This rant has been building in me for years. I hope you’re ready.

I have a dog. He has a big head, large muscles, and he is very sensitive. He knows when you don’t like him. He knows when people are sad, mad, happy, and all our other mix of emotions. He will gladly lick your face, clean the inside of your ears, and sniff your feet. He cuddles. He leans on you and uses your body as a recliner. He wants to be with you at all times. When he can’t, he patiently waits for your arrival.

He scared me at first. I was unsure. I was worried that he would turn vicious. I was brainwashed.

Before my dog, I was a volunteer at a humane society. I was one of their dog trainers. They saw a large number of dogs. Some dogs could be saved, some could not. I’ve seen all types of dogs. When I walked into his cage, I was nervous. He came from a bad past.

He sat in the corner and watched as I entered his space. I didn’t make eye contact. I came in, locked the cage, and took a seat on the cold floor. I sat against the cage wall. I sat away from him. I was nervous.

He walked over slowly. He was sniffing. I kept my eyes directly ahead. When he was close, he stopped, then he sat. I always kept a stash of delicious treats in my hand and a training device in the other. When his butt hit the floor, I clicked my device and put a treat next to his paw. I stayed looking ahead. He stayed focused on me. This routine kept until the treats were gone.

I was still nervous. What if all the news reals were true? What if he snapped and went for my throat? What if his jaw locked and I couldn’t break free? The “what ifs” flooded my brain.

His tail wagged so hard it thumped on the concrete. He was staring at me, waiting for my next move.

During his life, humans beat him, shocked him, left him out in the Florida heat, and tied heavy chains around his neck. If there are any “what ifs”, it should be coming from the dog.

He should be wondering if I am going to beat him, shock him, or make him fight for his life. He’s the one who should be nervous.

Instead, he wags his tail. He takes the treats. He waits for me. He watches my behavior. He trusts me. He is still hopeful. He has so much love that he can’t help but be happy even though I might be the next human that does him harm.

I hold out my hand. He leans forward, sniffs, and licks my skin. His tongue can’t help it so he licks my arm. His tail wags harder and he licks my face. I give him a gentle pat and before you know it, we are playing, cuddling, and loving with all our hearts.

It was in that moment my closed, brainwashed heart became bigger. I fell in love with a breed that is hated for how they look. They are hated for their sheer power. They are hated and they are feared. When a human is scared, it is the most scariest place to be.

I love my dog. When I first saw his face, I knew he would be great. However, the media is a powerful thing. My nerves took over, once again. I knew my new love would become big. I knew he would become my greatest protector. I knew his strength would make others and even me stand on edge.

He tested me.

He is two now. He loves, he plays, and he shows people he isn’t what the media says. He isn’t what the scared human creates. He is just a dog.

I saw him change a mind today. He changes minds all the time, but something struck me with this lady.

I come out of my car. She is standing on my steps that lead to my home. She is nervous. I see me standing there, opening a cage, and not knowing if I would leave.

He approached. She asked if he was vicious because “he looks vicious”. I calmly said no. He’s a lover. He licked her hand gently, as if he knew he should. “Here, let me lick your hand so you can know I’m not mean, I just look that way”.

She smiled and giggled.

A wet nose and a soft tongue can make the worst cynic smile. She followed me into my home and while we talked, my dog sat and waited. She commented on how good he was and I said, they all are. We just have to give them a chance.

My rant is fueled by my own previous bias. My rant is fueled by a public who knows only what they read and what they hear. My rant is fueled by all the abused dogs who only want to love. They only want to be friends. They only want to teach us to love the same; without bias.

A large head, large muscles, and a strong will mean only one thing to me now – a dog with a heart large enough to change a brainwashed mind.

I own a pit bull. He owns my heart.

 

This is Einstien.

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Deep Scratches

Just a little poem to free the soul.

 

It is chaos; this world I inhabit. 

Holes, walls, and thorns leaving scratches.

I fall. I climb. I bleed. 

I never find what I feel I need. 

I’m trapped in a storm. I can’t breathe. 

Save me from the fear creating me. 

I will never find light. 

I feel I am losing this fight. 

Scratches are deep. The wounds wont heal. 

Thorns are encasing; forming a seal.

I weep. I scream. Silence cleanses me. 

I Keep Clawing

Here is a little something for your Friday. I want you to try and figure out where this person is. Do not try to think of a place that is sci-fi. Think of a place you carry with you at all times. 

Enjoy. 



I keep clawing. The sticky substance clogs the underside of my fingernails. It’s dark and there’s a strange smell I cannot identify. I close my eyes to keep out the stink and the strange substance. My feet hit something strange and it feels as though I cannot move. I struggle to kick myself free. I hit something hard and the entire place jerks. The substance wiggles and the smell intensifies. I reach out my hands in hopes of feeling for anything to grasp. I keep clawing. The room or this place, I am still not sure, is getting darker. I seem to be sinking. I fear I will never break free. I keep clawing. The smell is now more potent than before. The taste suctions itself to my tongue; my body. I hit a wall. It rattles me. I can feel the place shake. I then feel the place move. I feel myself being thrown. I reach for the wall and it is no longer within my reach. I sink further into this place. The substance wraps itself around me and the stink sets in. I keep clawing. 

My Troubled Muse

I often write things that are dark, scary, and completely morbid. It is a direct reflection into my mind. The mirror stands tall. It holds cracks and is often distorted. If you know me, you can see past the imperfections and know, even though my soul is damaged, I am content. I am thoughtful. I have empathy. I long for sanctuary. I can not often find the peace I long for. My mind races with thoughts that I beg to disappear. My thoughts, the ones that put me in a dark place, the ones that pull my inner psyche into a darkness from which I have to claw my way out, are my own. I hate them, I loathe them, I yearn to be with them. However, I won’t apologize for them. They are not for everyone. I live in torment with my mind, and it is often the most beautiful place and the most painful all at once. I wouldn’t change it for anyone or anything. It brings to me a beautiful muse. Unfortunately, I often have to poke the mind in order to bring my muse to life.

Read what you can. Find the meaning of the words as they flow from my troubled thoughts onto this blog. If you’re as troubled as me, and I know I am not alone, you will appreciate every minute your eyes scan the page. If you can not relate, you will have trouble digesting what I am feeding. .

Breath. Enjoy. Live. Inspire. Embrace. Forgive

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Remember, it’s all about perspective.

I’m Shocked Too

It’s Friday. I do not have much to say. I had a very bad day, emotionally, yesterday, and the thought of writing anything worth while, puts a drain on me. So instead, I will wish you a fabulous weekend and a picture of my dog to keep you entertained while you pound away at your dest looking at the clock every five minutes only to find it’s been a minute. Don’t worry, it will be over soon. 


This is what you look like when you find the clock hasn’t moved.