Golden Coup

Nothing gold can stay, says Frost,
And surely he would know.
For if the gold had not been lost,
He would have told us so.

Nothing gold can stay – it’s true.
But maybe if we try,
We can execute a coup
And turn that truth to lie.

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Brain dump

They move in the mist,
Creatures of old-time myths.

***

She clung to the cup.
Her frigid fingers curled round the paper,
Desperate to draw
The last ounce of warmth
From the lukewarm liquid sloshing inside
As she scurried from building to building
In the bitter fall rain.

***

I want to be the next Great American Novelist.
I want to write great litrashure.
“You’re a great writer. You just have to find your story.”

***

I’ve been writing in fits and starts for three months now. In a burst of inspiration, I jot down the brilliance (because let’s face it – when you’re a writer and the spirit moves you, it (whatever it may be) is always brilliant) that comes into my head like medieval grace. But then, hours or days or sometimes weeks later, when I return to it, the grace is gone, and I can no longer remember where I was going with what I had written.

Not having finished anything is starting to really irritate me. The only things I’ve managed to finish writing have been for class assignments, and those were only finished with much wailing and gnashing of teeth as the deadline approached (and occasionally, as it whooshed by).

I imagine it’s going to get worse before it gets better, what with taking more classes next semester than I did this semester, and I suppose I’m going to have to accept that fact. I wish I hadn’t been so dumb the first time I did college. I wish I hadn’t let fear of failure rule my life. I was afraid I’d never make new friends, I was afraid my relationship would wither and die and I’d be all alone in the great big world, a little girl playing at being a grown-up. I think I was also afraid of success and sabotaged myself before I had the chance to succeed.

They say hindsight is 20/20, and they’re definitely right, but I wish I hadn’t always had to do things the hard way. Hopefully I won’t continue to always do things the hard way.

College in your thirties is definitely hard, especially when there are so many things you want to do that you can’t because you have a family and a job and so many things that require your attention. College in my twenties would have been so much simpler. Even if I still couldn’t have done all the things I wanted to do, at least the demands on my time were fewer.

Thank goodness, I guess, that I’m a self-directed learner.

Also, thank goodness for caffeine. Because without it, there is no way I’d have made it through this semester and no way I could make it through the upcoming ones.

All glory to caffeine! 😀

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Picture Perfect

Practice your ballerina hands, the email said, without much clarification on how to do that.

I looked down at my hands. They were frying pan hands, and the Teflon was peeling.

Practice pointing your toes like a ballerina, the email said. But I’m no ballerina, and all my practice was futile.

Practice smiling genuinely, the email said. At last, something I could do! But when I looked in the mirror, all I could see was the ruby nightmare that framed my face and glittered beneath the bright white vanity lights.

So much for that idea, I thought.

I took a deep breath and tried again. This time, instead of imagining…

I’m going off the rails on a crazy train

You can’t sleep through life if you wants to live it. -Alice Walker

Well, here it is – the end of the first weekend in November. How the heck did that happen?!

It’s been a good month since my last post, and all I can think is, “Well, so much for blogging every day this year.”

Sure, I could whip out a bunch of posts and backdate them all, but I don’t have the time. Or the mental energy.

School is kicking my butt. And while I’m happy to be back in a classroom and happy to be reading and learning so many wonderful things, I am exhausted, and rather frustrated with myself for not doing this years ago. I should have done it right away, instead of waiting.

But hindsight is 20/20, and that which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, right?

I ought to be nigh unbreakable by the time I finish this degree.

Despite my best intentions, I expect I will not be posting much the rest of the year, though I will post when I can. Midterms are behind me, thank goodness, but the end of the semester is rapidly approaching, and I have some big projects ahead of me. Between school and work and family, something’s gotta give, and that something is this.

Next semester promises to be even more hectic, as I’m adding a class to my already heavy load. If you’re the praying type, keep me in yours – I’ll need all the prayers I can get to keep me awake and engaged. Pulling all-nighters was so much easier when I was twenty!

But this, too, shall pass, and hopefully something wonderful awaits me on the other side.

What’s new with you? Are you excited for the impending winter holiday season? Do you have big plans for the coming year?

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Innocence

In sweet green pastures
I think of you, and all the
Love that we once knew.

In sweet green pastures,
I see you fly, soaring high
So you touch the sky.

In sweet green pastures
I lie and dream of all that
Was, or at least seemed.

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Tired

I’m tired. I’m not, really, but it’s much more acceptable to say you’re tired than to say that you’re angry and upset and you don’t know why.

I’m tired. I’m not, not really, but it’s so much easier to say you’re tired than to say that you’re feeling prickly and sharp and you don’t know why.

I’m tired. I’m not supposed to be, because I got almost seven hours of sleep last night. But my goal is eight or nine, and the seven hours I got weren’t good. I can’t remember the last time I woke up feeling refreshed.

I’m tired. I’m not, really, but it’s much safer to say you’re tired than to say that you’re feeling jagged and raw and you don’t want to talk about it because you can’t handle hearing, “Suck it up, buttercup,” or, “Figure it out and get over it,” one more time.

I am running on empty, and I’m tired of it.

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.

Stuck

The world keeps turning,
And I keep on spinning in
Circles, wondering

If the world has passed
Me by – if my life has passed
Me by. But the world

Keeps on turning, and
I keep on spinning, wand’ring
As I wonder what

Happened to the girl
I used to be, and how I
Became the woman

I am. And the world
Keeps turning, and still I am
Spinning, wondering.

(c) 2017. All rights reserved.