It’s a day. It’s a line in the sand.
I’ve heard it’s normal for people who grew up poor and hungry, to spend their adult lives overeating and ignoring the risks of obesity.
I had to order my dish soap from Walmart online. Nobody sells Dawn Free & Clear unscented in retail now (but you can buy scented Free & Clear which is complete bullshit).
I only want to swim in saline pools for the rest of my time.
What you accept in personal relationships is what you’ll accept in work ones too, I’m re-awakening to.
Big vat of toxic soup.
No, I don’t want to argue with you. I’ve grown old(er) and tired of proving a point you’re never going to get. Tired of talking a language that’s beyond your comprehension. Tired and I want to go hiking with my dog instead.
I installed a language app on my phone that’s supposed to improve my vocabulary. Set it to “Advanced” and all it serves me are words I learned in the 6th grade. I guess that’s above the American average, but come on.
That apple pie was really something yesterday.
Too many bakery carbs and all the cells in my body are hurting.
I have a roof on my patio now, so I can work outside even in the rain!
Working through the layers of my onion, still.
Dora snuggled in my lap gives me confidence it will be a great day.
I should be drawing, but I’m constantly drawn to writing.
There are a lot of people who have stolen words from me. And here I am, still giving them away for free. I’d like to think it means a thing when you don’t let the thieves in life ruin your own heart.
There are times I genuinely miss playing the piano.
When I was old enough to sneak into night clubs, I’d go before it got busy. Find a spot in the back corner, and practice dancing to the music. Oblivious to everyone else’s motivations.
My favorite clubs would have a mirror somewhere, and that’s where I’d put my focus. Paying attention to what it felt like to move a certain way. “Do you want to dance?” I’d get asked. “I am dancing, you should go dance too,” I’d say, encouragingly.
I don’t think they got my meaning. Took it as an insult. Took it as rejection.
I keep drawing things I don’t want to sell. Pieces of art I just want to keep for myself. Little scraps and pieces of me. Pretty little things nobody will fully see.
And then sometimes I give them away, and that’s my favorite thing. To think of someone and get a feeling that a drawing belongs in their possession for some reason.
I’d make a terrible commercial artist.
An old habit, I ate until my stomach hurt today. Laid down in bed and fell asleep. Dreamt of people who no longer exist in my present journey. Dora waking me up saying, “feed me! Woof!”
I stole a piece of chocolate covered caramel out of the bulk bin the other day. Ate it while I shopped avocados and steak, black and blue.
Karmic retribution, made my chin break out the next day.
I’ve healed so much I want to run my neighborhood hiking trail each morning. Dora slung over my shoulder, I guess I could put her in her backpack.
I’ve healed enough that I’m getting holiday vibes instead of the ick. Ready to hang some halloween and Christmas decorations.
I’ve never been good at recycling. But I’ve saved some front porch lights and am determined to repurpose them into art.
My painting didn’t get selected for the gallery exhibition.