message in a bottle

silly title in't it.
Today was the 4th

THE FOURTH

does that mean anything? I wonder.

Every year on this date and the week prior i see flags waving, hear god bless america enough times to make me want to poke out my ear drums, and watch people stand  solemly for the star spangled banner. I hear masticated cookie cutter stamped statements about freedom...and for the rest of the year watch the same people switch into a different mindset and trample the very ideas they give lip service to.

What is freedom? and being a "good patriot" on the fourth, does that really make you a freedom fighter or a champion of freedom? Or a compliant little sheep that does what its told and helps keep others in line via social control year in and year out....right on cue depending on the holiday, capitalist driven and all.

another day

I no longer care about this blog.it served its purpose when i had the intelligence and humanity of a human being. but now that im  a rather dry huskof my former self and just struggle every day to acheive fully the bottom level of maslows hierarchy, i fel like i have nothing to say.

yet somehow it seemes wrong to abandon this blog to just stagnate and die like an old unsed forgotten satellite.

maybe i should just post random stuff even if its not mportant just so i don't let it die.

I feel everything i stop doing becasue im tired and non functional is just metaphorical for the collapse of my life. I need a vision of success and self love and humanity, not proof of how i keep failing..
this blog included.
damn im tired
chronic fatigue is a bitch and it screws you life insurance rating, let me tell you

and the saga continues

did you follow the path
from my heart to my brain

did you take my hand
down the shade laden lane

my rhythms are trite
but I can't complain

better that than no rhytm
and shame laden pain

blech....oh well. updated as a reminder.

no I didn't make it into medical school. yes my health did deteriorate then I nearly starved to death, no exaggeration. No he didn't take the kids, we finally settled on shared parenting..

I however have finished going insane in the most rational controlled way I can. I've sprouted wild. Like those thick juicy blackberries that you pick from the side of the road on lonely rural highways.

The upside: I'm still alive...and any day you're still alive,is a day your winning the battle. and my children are alive and thriving and that makes the battle worth winning.

Precious Prescience

Precious Prescience

I felt you near/breath on my spine/Turned to look/but naught behind
I saw a vison in my mind/In my dreams/but naught behind
And then I scream/ for something real/not sensual sentience/precognitive feel
I saw a vision/you stood fine/my gaze swept back/but naught behind
You touched my shoulder/I missed your touch/your lips and finger gently brush/across my body down and such
I close my eyes/and you are mine/I turn to look/but naught behind


I know that /soon/ you will arrive/You WILL appear/ before my eyes
I know I'll feel /your skin brush mine/I'll turn to look,/ you'll stand behind
I know, in waiting, /you'll appear/my patience wanes,/ I want you here
And you, you laugh,/ musing game/I stand still,/ my want brings shame
Yet still I stand/teased along/I start to waiver/hope clings on
And still I stand/I'm never wrong/my doubts drop off/hope clings on

My vision strong/my will so weak/I hear your whispers as you speak
You enjoy/ the teasing game/ I deplore my/ want with shame
You must not wait/ too long you know/ or I lose faith/ and turn to go
Your heart/ beats/ strong/ mind to mind/ I turn to look/ but naught behind
You've grown strong/ I've grown weak/ I lean my heart against my feet
Until I feel/ it can't be true,/ I turn to look,/ and there stands you.

string theory on the ocean

Its been a long time since I've written. Blogs are just online diaries that you open up to the world aren't they. No one comes to my blog so I feel I can write anything. I put it out there like a message in a bottle. Taken by the currents. More likely to be lost beneath the waves of cyber space than found on some cyber shore.
But pretty soon that bottles not going to be anonymous anymore. Should I keep writing? Will it suppress my freedom to vent? Is it back to the locked diary for me? Safety and freedom...contradictory, yet desirable.

Missing: Intelligent spirited passionate girl, replaced with robotic, dusty grey changeling

call ***-***-**** if you have any info regarding this case.

8/14/04
a brain
doused
like fire
under waters
dampen down
dampen down
the roaring flames of intellect
of passion
soaring, touching, excelling
my mind
gone
shadow babysitter
to hold its place
until someday
may it return
we hope
we hope
Is this my own self-pity. A cyber journal with no readership. The perfect place to put my dumbed dismay at what I feel I've lost. God forbid my own journals stay in this home, next to me a reminder of my constant fear that I will live as a shadow of my former self for the rest of my life. Am I a different woman now? a different person inhabiting the same body. My mental pathways impaired, when I feel like this I wonder, how can I ever possibly achieve that which once was as easy as breathing.
On the days when the fatigue is not eating me alive screaming, I sense hope for a return of that bright talented young woman. I feel impending release from this illness. But on days like this, I get pessimistic and wonder if this is howI'm destined to live my days. Given sweet gifts, though briefly, and forced to live pale next to them after they have slipped away. I am too young to feel this old.

my children

I'm sitting her with my sleeping child in my lap. I can't even describe to you how good it feels. The warm skin and slow breath of a child curled up next your skin. We all have days where we are short tempered or frustrated, or life makes us feel like sitting by the side of the road screaming or bawling...or both. But just having her here in my arms...its grounding. Its the love that drives you and love that brings you inner peace and calm.