Friday, July 6, 2012


It makes me feel miniscule and immature.

Stomach careening.

It continues it's blustering blast of distress through my debilitating limbs.

They weaken and shake, unable to hold my weight.

They're holding the burden of the sun.

Nerves in my head are striking, thrashing, convincing my eyes to shut.

Don't look!

From anxiety?

Or back pain?

Or is it from waking up too early from an amalgamation of both plus a visitor above my ceiling?

Uncle is here to 'help out'.  His mind needs to talk about the big picture, to release his stress.

I need to be an ostrich with my head beneath the warm, white, Dominican sand.

My broken mind can't handle that much of the picture.

She can only handle today and tomorrow.

My new brain allows no assumptions for the future.

She taught me that the day I lived through the motorcycle accident.

There is only today.

What can I do today for the forthcoming?

That is all I can handle.

I'm so overwhelmed and can only deal with one moment at a time.

The instant I have to consider anything too far in advance, my toes curl.

My back becomes like a turtle, caving in to protect myself, giving me the appearance of a weakened child.

My heart pounds in an effort to warn me of the dangers of planning, for there is no certainty to be expected, and that is the truth of life.

We can make as many plans as we like, but fate has her own strategies.

She chooses, not us.

My breathing shortens.

My lungs shiver.

My legs quiver.

The only release I can expect is tears.

I can purge and prepare.

That's all I can do.

Yet still, the future is what I'm aiming for with today's bow and arrow.

I can't see how far that missile will go before I let her feathers fly.

I can only see her in my hands.

I can only be sure of her while she's holding back the tension of the bow.

Once I let her go, her course is up to the fate of the winds.

It's no wonder my bitch of a back is crying.

She's the suffering neighbour to my reeling stomach, on fire and sending smoke to choke the nearby resident with black air of inhalation.

Too much is going on in there to deal with for one body.




They're connected.

I'm disconnecting.

i have faith in my future


  1. Replies
    1. kinda felt like barfing actually hehe ... feeling much better now that i let it out. :)

  2. xoxoxo ♥
    I can relate a little my dear, and I sure hope you feel better once you smell the warm air and your toes hit that sand. Until then, meditate on it, pretend you're already there, if possible.

    Sending you all the good energy I can, and love!

    It's strange how familiar your feelings sound to me, it's almost the exact feeling that is keeping me from finishing my first "real" post on the new blog... I'm getting there though.

    You're doing so well on your journey, I can only hope to take example from how amazingly strong you are.

    1. jez, you're such a sweet friend ... and i'm so glad that you can relate. i need to hear that as well, so that i don't feel like i'm the only nutcracker out there ;)

      your energy must've came, because i feel much better and so much more love :)



your comments make this world feel smaller ... and you feel closer