Skip to main content

It's Blog-tober (!) the second! and I'm going to blog every day even though I already missed a day, damn it

I've decided to post every day again for a while.

I just don't have the discipline to write stuff if I don't have some deadline looming.

It's too easy to procrastinate.

I'm good at easy things like procrastination, also, napping.  Napping is easy. I'm good at napping.


I've been reading some haiku. Jack Kerouac wrote some fucking awesome haiku.

They sort of blow my head open. In a good way. Like a gust of wind blowing a curtain.

It's good.

Airing out the brain.

Blowing the brain curtains around.

I imagine my brain curtains are lace. I like lace curtains.

I like the way they blow around in the spring or fall when the windows are open on a blue day.

Spring blue and Autumn blue are both blue but they're not the same.

I'm not telling you anything you don't already know.

I'm thinking of authenticity and voice.

Have you thought about authenticity and voice?

Your voice, is it really your own?

Do you realize that your authentic voice was present before you could speak?

Isn't that funny?

By the time you had words, had you lost your authentic voice?

So your voice was never your own?

That's what I'm finding.

So during this silence, this easy uneasy silence

I've quietly been looking for

 my voice, my own,

the voice I spoke with

when I had no words,

before I could actually speak

because I think

I was silenced

before I could even utter a word













Comments

Anonymous said…
I really like this. Sue
October 5, 2014 at 2:15 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Just don't call me Late to Dinner

A friend recently asked if I was ever called Maggie or if I'd always been a Margaret. That got me thinking about my name. I hate my name.  Hate it. I have never liked my name. It seems fine to call other people Margaret. It sounds agreeable enough when I say hello to another Margaret. "Hello, Margaret!" I might say. And the name doesn't offend me. It doesn't make me recoil or wretch. It's just a name. And a fine name at that. But it's not for me. I don't feel like a Margaret. It doesn't fit me well.  Hangs off me all funny and weird. Can't ever seem to wear it comfortably. I don't like to be called by name. Frankly, it makes me feel sort of sick.  When I was a chubby 3rd grader I decided I wanted to go by a nickname.   Peggy. I wrote it in my clumsy curly cursive on the front inside cover of my books.   I said it out loud to myself in the mirror. Peggy. Peggy! I liked it. First of all Peg...
6 comments
Read more

possible blog material

possible blog posts for blogtober: 15 things you don't know about my left nut: 1. I don't have a left nut 2.  I do not even have a right nut As I can only get to #2, this idea needs fleshing out before I commit to it. Hahaha...fleshing out.  some things you don't know about my cat 1. I have a cat 2. she's a cat  3. she does cat things 4. she shits in a box   15 things I want to change about myself 1. fuck this shit 2. seriously 3. back off 4. you do not want to go down this path 5. really One billion (maybe this is too ambitious) observations made while sitting on the toilet  1. someone should really mop the floor  2. I need to get some new reading material in here,   3. I think the new Oprah magazine was in yesterday's mail  4. there are only so many times you can read about living your best life while sitting on the shitter  5. reading recipes while using the bathroom is sort of we...
3 comments
Read more

We're in a horrible mess and I feel like I owe folks an explanation

Hey there friends. In the past, I haven't been shy about talking about my bipolar II, my near constant depression, and anxiety. Writing about my experiences has been a mixed bag. Sometimes I feel I am reveling too much and that I'm embarrassing myself.  Then there are times when people reach out and thank me for being honest about my mental health struggles. Some folks find comfort or solidarity in the stuff I write and that's good, because that's my hope and intention.  I've been mostly silent though about this most recent episode. It's been so dire I felt foolish discussing it much. It just felt too big to be real. I worried that people would think I was being overly dramatic. I have been tempted to dump it all out there like a bag of old garbage, but I though, who needs that. And frankly, at a certain point it felt like who cares, why bother, it's all a load of shit and in the long run, who gives a fuck. At this point though, I feel like I owe...
2 comments
Read more