I'm a mother, wife, daughter, writer, artist, photographer, masters degree graduate, deep thinker, reader, and a depressed anxious sarcastic cynical bitch. I mean what more could you ask for, right? (All Words & Designs Original! #picsart)
Attention, Attention, Attention Please! All will be answered, she won't be a tease. There are things she needs to say,
It was evening when we left for the amphitheater with the sun still shining and my excitement at its max. My first concert. Janet. "Miss Jackson if you're nasty". It was summertime but I had goosebumps the whole ride. We had seats under the pavilion about 10 rows back and since this was a birthday present from my cousin and aunt they let me have the aisle seat. Her "Velvet Rope Tour" and I was there, up close, and so ready to become temporarily deaf. When her voice started to sing it was like she was singing to only me.
The Little Black Book
This was going to be a difficult day. I threw myself back on my pillow and threw the covers over my head. Every day that passed I tried to muster up the drive to get up and accomplish what I have longed to accomplish. Finishing the stories that have been wandering through my mind that are half-written in my little notebook. Along with the poems I so often created while waiting for my tea to boil before heading out to work. Or even putting down on paper the side designs I've thought would be good for this company, or thoughts about my small town benefitting from this or that and how I could develop it and where I would put it. Instead, I crawled out of bed and to the shower and slowly, painstakingly dressed myself for work. All the while drinking my Kahlua and Irish Cream coffee. #greatestpasttime … whining to myself.
The Small Black Notebook
"Miss! Wait, Miss! You dropped your small black notebook! Wait!" There were throngs of people all around me as I screamed and crouched down to pick up this mysterious small black notebook that appeared to have fallen out of a woman's bag. I got up and tried running after her but since I didn't completely get a good look at her, I lost her in the crowded streets of New York City. Naturally, I wanted to get it back to her so I opened it up to see if there was a name inside of it. Well, there wasn't exactly a name that said "this notebook belongs to" but there was quite a bit in it.
The Kelly Effect
Everything looked so lush and green with flowers I had never even seen before growing with such life and vibrancy that I got lost looking at them. Lost in the space in which they existed.
Not on the Same Page Round 4
Getting back out there. Jumping back on the horse. Testing the waters can be a scary thing and also a weird thing. People can seem altogether there and then as you talk to them they start to drop subtle clues. Clues that there is a reason why they are on a dating site. Trust me I'm not judging because let's face it, I was one of those people who other people were saying that same statement about. I was the one with the 8 point profile that read like a sarcastic bitch list of what creates an asshole. Which is what prompted this nearly month-long exchange.
Tell Me Lies
Oh, sweet baby girl if you're good Santa Claus will come and bring you lots of presents. Oh, pretty baby girl do sit on the rabbit's lap. Promise it's not weird it will give you chocolate candy because a religious figure died and it's all good. Just do it.
As We Know It
Dying! Everything around me is dying! Dying to be and Dying to not be Half-empty Half full In existence, none-the-less