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Intention
Not for Reference is an invitation for freedom of thought. Gathering information and exploring what your inner self concludes. The material is my own soul expression without the agenda of convincing or conniving others to think like I do. My thoughts may change over time based on my life experiences through this incarnation. We all…
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Disentanglement from Alcohol
I miss the days when I would just write, raw and unfiltered. A pouring out of imprisoned emotions that would only be freed when the alcohol impaired my frontal lobe. The words would come out in a flood. The relief of finally being released. The onslaught on any bystander could be brutal. The onslaught on…
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Learning or Overconsumption?
In this time, where every question can be answered by Google, we are stepping away from our own critical thinking. Moving headfirst into overconsumption. I am a perfect example of this overindulgence. In all of my hobbies and interests, I become obsessive, googling every question, watching countless videos, and reading blogs, and Reddit threads. The…
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The Space in Between
I am in the space in between. Between the before and the after. Aware, but still unaware. Grappling with knowing in my knower and questioning my sanity. My body and soul are forcing me to rest. Fatigue beyond what I have experienced before. Physical manifestations of neck spasms, back pain, and migraines. A forced slowdown,…
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Masks
Knowing that my handful of readers know me causes me to hold back just a little bit. Out of fear of how their perception of me may change when I take off all the masks. The masks that have taught me what is acceptable and required to be deemed worthy. I am removing the masks….
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Brave Authenticity
What is an author or writer? Do they think in prose? Do they delicately construct their sentences in a conversation to have multifaceted layers of meaning? Is every life experience material for their next writing session? As I pursue and entertain the dream of being a writer, these questions come to mind. How can I…
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The Power of Choice
I sit in my favorite space in the garden. On the retaining wall in front of the espalier lemon tree. The sun peaks over the house and shines directly on my face. A greeting, a kiss at the start of the day. I have been thinking of late of where my life has been and…
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Forgotten
There is a gap in my memory.Almost as if it is a forbidden past.No recollection, just empty spaceMemories that should be treasuredBut are only blackness in time. Why?Why were those memories so voluntarily sacrificed to the dark abyss of forgetfulness?My only conclusion is self-preservation for my sanity.Events that were not meant for remembrance.Wounds that were…