I took a break from dealing with shit at work today to participate in Wordle Wednesday. Some bitch has just emailed me again, so I guess I am done with my reprieve.
Broke. . . .
Thought I was well-built
That’s what thinking will get you. . .
Why can’t my mind be calm?
Sit,
Be silent,
Pack all those thoughts in boxes
Sit them outside
No, not on the porch
Take them to the curb
To be picked up by the garbage man
Couldn’t find time yesterday to sneak in Wordle Wednesday, so hit it first thing this morning. Thanks for missing me Kira! Hope you think the wait was worth it. 🙂
STRIPPER
STRIPPER
Prone to crazy
Life loosely based on reality
Chaos visits
To periodically blackmail you into reason
The mirror chuckles and scrutinizes
“Hey Lily, whose your daddy?”
I want to quickly say thank you to FrontRangeScribbles for the nomination. I have been terrible about responding to nominations recently, and I apologize. I am struggling to find words for much of anything lately. I will make it to the other side of this, but right now I miss my son, and can’t imagine what the fall is going to be like when he doesn’t come back home to start school. I appreciate everyone’s support of my blog, and me so much!!
I must thank Petite Magique for giving me the Best Moment Award
I have no clue what this award is, but for anyone to take the time to recognize what I have done I appreciate them for it.
Like all awards I must thank the one who bestowed it upon me, so thank you very much Petite Magique for the award, for taking the time to read what I write and comment. I appreciate very much that you do stop by my blog. You have such great poetry and wonderful pictures that I am in awe when I read your posts.
This is the part I hate the awarding it to others, I think all the people I follow and read are great in their own ways and I don’t like leaving people out or giving it to people who don’t want to participate. I apologize if I give…
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Kick Ass!! It’s Wordle Wednesday over at Wrestling Life. Kira knows I love this, and it helps me get through hump day and into the downhill slide to the weekend. Go over and check it out, leave some prose. Here’s what I came up with:
Your gaze,
Ensconced me
Your eyes,
Exposing the rivulets worn in my skin,
From tears flowed over decades
Your hand,
Extended,
Sent to anchor me,
Was a mere deception of destruction
I attempt to find my Zen
At the bottom of a beer can
While reminding myself
That regardless of the chaos around me
I must learn to find some peace
I have searched high and low for it
Overturned furniture
Flipped mattresses
Dug holes in the yard
Tried to fuck a path to it
You elusive bitch
You are burrowed somewhere within me
I need directions to find you
Where did I put that fucking map?
I am floundering
Tripping
Stumbling
Falling
Not wanting to rise again
I can’t think about it because
I get a lump in my throat
My eyes threaten to cry
I feel sick to my stomach
I am uncertain
Unsure
Unstable
I don’t know how to make it through this
I will pretend
Masquerade
Bluff
Take so many deep breaths
That I shall eat up all the oxygen in the room
In an attempt to be okay
I can’t take one more minute. I have to vent. Mass consumption of alcoholic beverages in the evenings after work hasn’t helped improve my mood regarding my job. Most days I don’t mind my job. Yes, it’s boring, it’s mundane, it offers no challenges, but it pays decent, and has pretty good benefits, so I stay. Most days I don’t mind the people I work with, but let’s just say the last month or so, I really just want to throat punch most of them. Let me tell you why.
1. Am I the only one who knows how to hang a new roll of toilet paper? Are you just trying to be a smart ass bitch by leaving two fucking squares of shitter paper on the roll? I appear to be the only one who stocks the fucking toilet paper, the least you other bitches could do is hang a new fucking roll up once in awhile!
2. Hey asshole that brings the Milky Way Dark candy bars in and puts them in the refrigerator. I hate you. That’s one of my most favorite candy bars of all time. I just hate you.
3. I’m not your maid, your mother doesn’t live here, clean up after yourself. Isn’t that just basic, common courtesy? I get tired of vacuuming, and picking up all the papers you left in the copy room. I get tired of cleaning up the coffee you spilled on the kitchen floor.
4. The last time I checked work starts at 7 a.m.; that doesn’t mean 7:10, or 7:30, or 7:49, that means fucking 7. Considering you take off more days than anyone else in the office, the least you could do is come to work on time on the days you are here. Oh, and maybe stay until 4? I’m not really sure why he lets you get away with it.
5. Have you ever heard the term “make-do”?? Why don’t you try that? Why do you have to have a certain type of folder, or pencil, or notebook? Does it look like we’re actually making any money around here?
6. Prioritize. All of us have to do it. I am tired of your fucking excuses. I am not perfect. I fuck up. I can admit. You never do. Admit you’re fucking up. Until you admit you’re fucking up, you can’t fix it. Quit ignoring the fact we have a serious situation on our hands. You are fucking everything up for the rest of us.
I love my job, I love my job, I love my job. . . . .
Yeah!!! Wordle Wednesday!! Why do I love this so much? Searching for just the right word, to construct the poem. . . just love it! Here’s mine this week!!
Exposed. . .
Like the soft flesh of my belly,
You threw your arms around my chest,
So desperate were you,
Trying to harvest time,
Like minutes were vegetables,
Wanting it to trickle slowly instead of run,
Like it always seems to do when we are close
He fucking did it again!! How could he? I just got my pants dried out from the last round of these piss-your-pants-funny autocorrected quotes! You have to read this shit, because they will give you the best laugh you’ve had in a long time. Oh, and I’m sure this will garner him even more followers than he already has!! Enjoy my laziness, and the fruits of his brilliant comedic mind!
Suppose a young man with a wild imagination and too much time on his hands went to a greasy spoon diner one evening at 3 AM. Suppose the same young man grew tired of all the belligerent drunks and lot lizards that usually frequent a greasy spoon diner late at night, so he began to surf the interwebs on his smart phone to occupy his time until his gyro omelette and rye toast were ready to be served.
Suppose that while killing time surfing the interwebs, the young man came across some famous quotes and later stumbled upon the humorous website, Damn You Autocorrect. Now suppose the imaginative young man with too much time on his hands got to thinking:
“What if all the famous authors, poets, artists, philosophers, and great leaders of history had to use a smart phone to type their inspiring quotes? Would their quotes sound any…
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He’s said it more than once, “You kind of like to control everything, don’t you?” It’s true, I do like to be in control. I was what many would call a “bossy” kid, and I suppose this has led to me being a “bossy” adult. I am a leader, not a follower, and will attempt to manipulate people to come to my dark side, and do as I wish. And if I can’t use the art of persuasion to get you to do what I want, or see my side of things, then at times I will try to force you to.
Problem? He doesn’t want to be controlled (most people don’t). He has made that very clear, yet he always seems to hand me his problems, seeking my advice and guidance. Is he aware you shouldn’t hand a fixer such as myself, a problem and not expect me to give you numerous solutions? I guess he must not be. He told me last night I sound like his mother. That’s exactly what every woman wants to hear. I told him I don’t want to be his mother, but was just trying to make a point.
He says I am a debater, that I can’t just say something and let it go. It’s true. Why do I feel the need to justify myself to everyone? I think it’s because of my need to control. I want to influence people to understand why I feel the things I do, because I’m not okay with feeling it, saying it, and letting them deal with.
Control is an illusion. I can’t control another human being, unless they allow me to, and to be honest, I don’t really want to control anyone, let alone a man I am in a relationship with. I want to be comfortable enough in my own skin, that I can let go and allow life to happen. I want to release my worries and anxieties, and allow people to make their own choices about things, and live their lives the way they see fit. Some days letting go of control is easy for me. Other days, it isn’t so easy and I battle it. I think I need to keep this quote handy, to remind me neither sunsets, nor people, will be beautiful if I attempt to manipulate them.
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