Note to Self 19:26 Messages from the universe sometimes sing through the voices of others. Recognize the messages as they resonate in a sound heart and mind. Let them swirl and plant seeds of faith.There is no right way, to this life gig.

Drop the labels. They separate more than identify.

Quickwrite 09/15/2014 1:55 PM

I finally have some free time to write and of course, I feel as though a dry spell has come over me. I guess I can start with my favorite trail of thought.
“Where was I a year ago today.” Not only rediscovering who I was but more so attempting to fathom how I’ve changed in the slightest ways. Realizing how I was in the dark about so much life had to offer besides disappointment and regret. 

Learning to appreciate life’s hardships truly is a habit worth starting. Learning to respect the past can help in creating a more preferable future. I often wonder what would happen if I revisited those who I once cared for and how would it affect the future. I suppose those people are in the past for a reason, seeing how the phone calls I make to them go unanswered. It’s not that Im desperate for their attention, I’m just curious. I’m curious what would become of the communication. So, I call every blue moon, just to remember their not meant for my present life, and the call goes to voicemail. I never leave one. I did once in the beginning. That was a mistake… Anyhow I usually just end the call and smile. A reminder there is nothing left to say.

Quickwrite: 07/27/2014 12:55am

God only knows why I bother sometimes. Why it is I bother to hang on to an idea of correction. The idea to correct self perceived errors I’ve made. The errors I can only assume are what made me lose a relationship I’ve held so dear to me. Thank god time is doing its part, making the acceptance process alittle easier. I don’t understand why do people not want to fix things that are mendable while both parties are still alive and able. The thought of erasing or pretending to erase a person is absolute insanity to me. If it’s that easy to forget someone, then they must not have meant all that much in the first place.
I’ll remember, I won’t forget. I also will not be robbed of my memories. I will not hold resentments. My words will remain genuine and truthful. Regardless of those of the world who cannot bare to be so brave faced.

Stop the Hurt
“At any age we are nothing more than the accumulated experiences that have gotten us to where we are now. And the experiences of our youth are the formative years that create our adulthood. Too many people are having difficulty with adult life because of childhood experiences that control their thinking. We must learn to educate our young better and eliminate child abuse. More than 50% of the children in America today are abused, either mentally or physically, by parents who don’t love them or understand them. We are creating a nation of unhappy people who are not capable of offering anything to anyone else because of
the hurt they carry around inside of themselves.”

“The lion and the cow take from their environment only what they need for substance, but man does not. Nature dictates this behavior in animals, but not in man. There is not a single quality in man that he uses to achieve peace. The notion of peace means the following: I take only what I need to survive; the rest does not belong to me.”

In a world of excess why create more excess. Every individual has so much more than necessary. Clutter is appalling. Not only physical clutter but mental. Letting go and realizing what is not meant for you releases an inner peace. Certain thoughts can feel so heavy because they are meant to be let go. I feel as though I am in a constant state of abundance because I only take what I need and give the rest back for others. Sundays have always been a day of revelation and clarity. Self control and discretion are more attainable when the load we carry is lightened. Let it go, let it go.

Black Cat
A ghost, though invisible, still is like a place your sight can knock on, echoing; but here within this thick black pelt, your strongest gaze will be absorbed and utterly disappear: just as a raving madman, when nothing else can ease him, charges into his dark night howling, pounds on the padded wall, and feels the rage being taken in and pacified. She seems to hide all looks that have ever fallen into her, so that, like an audience, she can look them over, menacing and sullen, and curl to sleep with them. But all at once as if awakened, she turns her face to yours; and with a shock, you see yourself, tiny, inside the golden amber of her eyeballs suspended, like a prehistoric fly.