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Archive for the ‘Daily Prompt’ Category

What do you get when you cross an elephant with a rhino?

Give up?

Yeah me, too. El-if-I-no.

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This is my heart. She pisses me off in more ways than one, but after a long day of feeling under appreciated, her curled up on my lap like this,  makes the world a better place.

I have had heart-breaks with my pets, and losing them is like a death in the family, but they are the “family” that are there just when I need them. Flaca, my cat, doesn’t need to say anything. A gentle purr on my lap while I brace myself for another day is all I need.  ♡

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Per today’s daily prompt, I wondered about how much music plays a role in my life. I’m surely glad that it wasn’t describe my life as a musical, because truth be known, I hate musicals.

This is odd, because music — given the right song — can make me burst into singing in full gusto.

That said, it has to mean something to me. (I’m sure I’m not the only one.) This doesn’t mean that I only like stuff that is nostalgic. I could be introduced to a new song and it will be love at first listen. The lyrics are most important to me, in addition to the rhythm, and dynamic use of innovative creativity. But even that won’t mean anything if, for instance, a folk song is just not what I’m feeling that day.

Most days, as of late, I’ve been in a blues kind of funk. My new job barely pays the bills, and I’m not happy, but in the five months since being laid off, I haven’t had but three interviews — only one of which worked out (and for which I wish I could change careers again.) I want so badly to be out of this funk; I want some change. So, I can appreciate some blues, but it won’t last. I need something uplifting. Something that combines the both of these would probably be ideal — a song that gets to the root of how I feel, but plays up where I want to be when I’m done listening to the music.

I know what I like, but since I’m in the mood for some change, I’d like to challenge my friends here on WordPress to help me create a playlist. I am open to lots of music. Let me know what you think. I’d love to hear what’s out there, open up my horizons a little, and hear what gets to the root of how you all are feeling. Please leave your comments below.

Peace

 

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Just when I was starting to get into the Daily Post’s daily prompt, we get this: Daily Prompt: Embrace the Ick.

First thing to come to mind? Of course it had to be worms or something of the like. I think I might be a worm, because the thought of them alone makes my own skin crawl! I don’t know what it is about them — if it’s the idea that because they don’t have eyes (at least not like you and me), or legs, or a cute spotted coat of fur, that I find them disagreeably ugly. And why do they move?!?! For instance, they could be a shoestring laying on the ground for all I know, and then all of a sudden they MOVE!! AHHH!  I think that this is probably true in part, because in high school we had to diset a worm in biology class. Our worm was dead, relatively flat, not slimy, and had NO  chance for a wiggle. *Shudder* I handled the whole episode fairly well, I think. But the wiggle…there has to be something to it, because I can’t watch snakes for the same reason. Even more so because they have EYES! They can look at you when you wiggle. *squeal!*

But perhaps I also don’t like worms because they feed off of death or rotting things: maggots on old food, worms in the  compost, my wildest yucky imagination has them gliding over caskets in the ground. Yuck! I don’t know that I have a debilitating case of vermiphobia, but I certainly can’t look at worms. Trying to find something “awesome” about them had me freaking out at the thought of having to look at one. *sigh* but alas, I will try:

Vermiculture is the process of turning garbage (like food scraps) into a rich dark soil that gets used in composting. That soil gets used to feed plants that feed us and make flowers that look lovely. This is because the food scraps have lots of nutrients to return to the earth. Worms help break them down and return them to soil. This sounds fine, clear — makes sense. And I was doing fine watching a youthful, interactive game with it’s token mascot Vermi the Worm describing the process here, but even he reverted to actual pictures and I flinched.

Maggots are a whole different story. I cannot write a “glowing puff piece about their merit”. They are baby flies. Flies….annoy the hell out of me. But…okay fine, it’s a challenge right? So apparently maggots are bred to be used as fishing bait. Fishermen will throw handfuls out into the spot they want to attract the fish to, and use the best of their bait on a hook to snag a fish. For those that breed the maggots, it is a lucrative business which okay great for those of you who can “stomach” them, but now I don’t want to eat fish for awhile.

Blech! I’m so queasy right now.  I can’t eat anything from a garden or a lake until I get my brain on something else. Ha ha! Somebody change the topic quick!

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I decided to share this using an online platform considering the way things went down to begin with. I  especially wanted to share on Woman With an Internal GPS, because this patch of my life is very real and an huge chunk of how and why I’ve decided to navigate my own direction. It’s a bit painful to revisit, but after writing, I feel better about it, and I hope that once I allow others to know these faults I can forgive myself for this part and move on. 🙂 Thanks for reading. — C.

There is a threshold that shouldn’t be crossed – even in the strongest of relationships. It’s reminiscent of burning bridges or building barricades once you do it. So don’t.

Even when paths meet a crossroad and we go separate ways, there is still an opportunity to come round back by traveling nostalgic roads, to reflect, and to meet at a common place in life once again.  But once you build your wall or burn your bridge by announcing that you have cut someone out, without considering the impact, that threshold has been breached, and your crossroad may be irreversibly altered should you wish to come back that way again.

I didn’t build a wall – I set a bridge ablaze and watched it burn. I was able to let out anguish and I felt a brief empowerment from this destruction. For me, I thought I needed to burn this bridge, but I also thought that I might be able to make my best friend see that we needed to start over. I had faith that whatever needed and could be salvaged would. But that was just me.

When you click “delete” on a social network….Yes, this actually happened I’m ashamed to say, it doesn’t go unnoticed. I thought that I might disappear for awhile, actually, and that maybe she would just see that I’m not around like I felt she was using me for in an abusive way.  Really, there was a crossroad ahead and I couldn’t accept that we weren’t going together like we had always done.

What happened was a lot of hurt, and regret hasn’t been more prevalent than at the epicenter of this unraveling.  In fact, the horror of cutting this person out of my life didn’t impact me until I realized that I hurt her feelings. And she was vocal about it. And doesn’t it hurt? A lot more when you get slapped in the face with your own bullshit?  Whoops! That fire went out quickly….I hurt/insulted her deeply enough that she decided to walk away.

I don’t blame her. And even though we both could have evolved better as friends, or maybe both tried a little harder, this leaned a bit (a lot?) more towards my fault – especially since I immaturely initiated the beginning of the end. Things just could have been different, that’s all.

Life is still (will always be) crazy, and I’ve had to be a big girl to get through it without the comfort of my closest friend. Sure, I learned a lot about myself. It’s been 5 years going since we’ve last talked. I think I figured out how to be my own person without seeking her validation, I’ve learned how not to be an asshole to my current friends, and that I need to be healthy mentally, spiritually, and physically (financially, socially, honestly etc. etc.) to maintain my close friends, because I’m needed just as much as I need them. I learned that living life vicariously isn’t really living life, and little by little I’m harnessing my own confidence. I’m taming the fiery me and learning how to walk away from things (briefly and embracing the uncertainty of their future) rather than setting them ablaze.

What I can’t get over is having had this much time to have to marinate in how much I just wish things would have been just a little different. That I could have at least maturely spoken my piece, been able to apologize, and leave with the future being uncertain rather than separated for what seems indefinitely.

I suppose there are a couple of gems in here about what not to do. But seriously, don’t burn your bridges. Think a minute before you let your emotions stew over. You don’t have to cut ties, but you can also just leave them untied if it’s just not the right time. Say sorry. I did, but it wasn’t the right time yet…maybe not ever, but it’s the best I could do as my last valuable token of our friendship. And finally, among the many reasons NOT to break up with a friend over social networks (deleting especially) is that it will come full circle. People will have the respect not to also delete you (i.e. mutual friends), but she’ll be there, and it feels like shit knowing she (and other friends) is there but acts like you are not. That’s what happens when you think you can disappear for awhile. You do.

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A ray has been stolen and captured on the comfy futon. The culprit? Flaca – a skinny, runt of a cat stricken with perpetual drowsiness. She will not feign excitement that isn’t on behalf of her own will.

A twinkle bounces off of a shiny thing on the floor with a chance to grab her attention. But for Flaca, this is a hunt not animal ADD, so she brushes off it’s presence with a lackadaisical yawn – full, wide mouth so that her teeth make a rare debut and the fur over her eyes pulls taught as her ears flap down. It is epic. I half wonder if she’ll simply decide it isn’t even worth it to play by pulling her characteristic half standing up then “no, I think I’ll just lay back down” daily exercise routine.

But no, the shiny toy is persistent. So she does a nonchalant hop off the futon and saunters past the shiny toy, and looks out the window before turning her gaze upon it in ritualistic fashion. It’s as if to say in customary feline practice, “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. Shall we?”

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There’s no call this morning. Everything is in place – alarm, outfit, lunch. Today already seems like a failure. I’m trying to take it in strides, but I can’t help feeling useless. It’s translating into mopey stomps, another slice of pie, heavy sighs. A flop on the couch. The cushion exhales in surprise. It will bear my burden, but it can’t seem to offer me any comfort. Ugh, this could be cyclical, as E’s in the bathroom on routine: the soft brushing of his teeth, a throat clearing cough, the shifting of padded steps – a pause as he looks in the mirror. I’m sulking, like one of the cats. Will he pet me or will I have to nuzzle him for a goodbye kiss?

Then just as he is about to leave, he says it. I love you… punctuated by a dimpled smile. The pace slows down, and I witness heavy sincerity in the eyelashes. The damn knowing eyelashes that allow us to time travel – memories begin materializing between blinks. Date? I don’t remember when it happened last, but here it is again like a hit – irises blown wide in a flashback. And now they’re shape shifting into fucking hearts. Shit! This is love….

The exterior of apathy is weak – like a jacket in the hot sun, this isn’t making me want to have it on. I want it to shed and slip down off these vulnerable insides. Then he says it again. This time he’s making his way to my wallowing bubble. (Burst!) He puts my cheek in his palm as he gives me a full-lipped smooch. His arm brushes down the side of mine, letting his hand link into mine before saying, “I have to go.”

I know I will subsist on swoons all day. Now today is perfect.

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