Category Archives: online journal

Walking the path implies walking.  Movement.  Not destination, but journey.  Who was I before they told me who I was?  I was curious, I was confident, I was safe.  Who am I now?  I am curious, I am more cautious, I am less safe.  Caution is not entirely mine – it was given to me. Continue reading “Reality, maybe”

Who was I before they told me who I was, and how I was, and what I was? That’s a line from an online guided meditation I stumbled upon, and the question is provocative. I thought I had become comfortable with who I am, but now am feeling as though my comfort is giving wayContinue reading “Shadows”

This is one of those days when I don’t want to help anybody, don’t want to be a nice person. One of those days when I want to curse and beat at my own body for being what it is, when I want to give up on people who disappoint me, who cast me asideContinue reading “Nothing nice”

I want you to know that I survived, but I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s just that reptile brain that said live, because that’s just what you’re supposed to do. Maybe it’s because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, like I always do. Maybe. I want you to know that you can’t kill me, can’tContinue reading “Words for hobgoblins”

I just had a PTSD moment, courtesy of a self-important, self-absorbed, intolerant and mediocre fool who fancies themselves a shining icon of superiority. She’s decided that I ama villain because I did not immediately drop everything I was doing to facilitate her request to do a charitable fund-raiser for her pet project. I am aContinue reading “PTSD is weird”

For some reason, the realization that I’m not a prima donna, but still high maintenance, is coming to me. I suppose I’m high maintenance in the sense that certain things, seemingly unrelated or insignificant, are very important to me. Without those being just right I am a cranky girl. These are often first world problems,Continue reading “High maintenance”

What is safety? You say this is my sanctuary but I feel less safe here than most other places. Can I trust you to not use your supremacy as a weapon? Can I trust you to believe that you could be wrong? I cannot trust you to use your fragility like a weapon so whyContinue reading “Collective stumbling”

Some of us believe that silence is equivalent to peace. That’s a fallacy. True silence is elemental; it is unto itself. Sound is made and inserted as a variance to silence. Silence is the flat line of a continuum, and sound adds variance to the medium. Sound brings peaks and valleys, highs and lows, diversityContinue reading “The sound of truth”

Was any of this ever mine? Was my life ever actually my own? Peace, peace he is not dead nor does he sleep – he has awakened from the dream of life. That was Percy Blythe Shelley from a million years ago, long before I was born, long before I died. Is life a dream?Continue reading “Vacation”

They said I had no rhythm, and I couldn’t dance. So I don’t. It’s probably true that I will never be a drummer or dance like Charo or Rita Moreno, but I can, and do, play the djembe. I have danced. In my estimation, I have never handled my body well, perhaps because I neverContinue reading “Maybe, maybe not”