Your substandard lies
Got you snagged between the lines
Only the best shine
Don’t worry your head
You know, we all end up dead
Damn that blood and bread
Oh, your wretched soul
Martyrdom sure takes its toll
On your bleeding soul
Substandard Lies
Month: July 2017
Coffee Over Tea
I prefer coffee
Over any kind of tea
Hey, but that’s just me
I love my coffee
Especially when I write
Stronger is better
Tea can be good, too
But only when it is green
Caffeine either way!
Traditional Drunk
Traditional drunk
Wretched and sorry; blank stare
Last one; I promise
Gosh, there were so many times I cried that it was my ‘last one.’ And I meant it every time I said it, for sure.
But the next day would come and after all the puking and the hangover and the shame, I would forget about the bad times and remember the good.
So there I went out the door, to the local bar to do it all over again. Only this time I swore it would be different. This time I would drink something else. After all, it wasn’t a drinking problem I had, it was a vodka problem I had. Oh, and maybe if I did some ‘other stuff’ while I drank, things would be better…
What?!
The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result. So, in my defense, I was completely insane. What sane person would continue behavior that led to bad outcomes? How could anyone think I was in my right mind after puking my guts up in the bar bathroom and walking out and back over to the bar for another drink?
Traditional drunk. I was anything but.
***
I am still busy with school work! Midterms are next week. Philosophy class is going well and I am enjoying the discussions. My CIS (computer information systems) class is interesting. I know a lot about computers, but am learning more about Windows and Office 2016.
Hope everyone had an awesome weekend! I will see y’all around blog town. ❤
Disastrous Damsel
While the lowest point of my life was sitting in a recliner in someone’s basement doped up on pills, there were many previous disasters that dragged me to that point.
I had lost my job, then my house and then the final blow… I lost my children. Surely I could have taken immediate action and changed my ways ASAP.
But first I had to get high and oh yeah, get drunk too and let’s not forget going out to bars and to make bad decisions about people that put myself in serious danger.
What the hell was I thinking? That was just it… I was NOT thinking. I was too busy playing the victim and blaming my life on everyone and everything else.
When I first lost my job I could have probably done the following: FOUND A NEW EFFING JOB!
I could have done a lot of things… but that didn’t fit my ‘victim mentality’ and while I was playing the ‘damsel in distress’ I was really a disastrous damsel spitting hellfire and burning every bridge I crossed. That life seems a world away now. Thank goodness for second chances.
Disastrous Damsel
Disastrous damsel; wicked and free
Who is this angel you pretend to be
Blackness is your state of mind
Your screaming soul, so unkind
Is this really who you are
Or did your game go too far
Take your breath and suck it out
Breath back in without a doubt
Life really can be joyous and true
Have faith in love and have faith in you.
People really do change… they just need a really good reason to change.
Daily Prompt: Edible
Edible is the lover
Who gives way too much
Edible is the enabler
Who takes all the time,
Edible is the innocent
Who forsakes all others
Edible is the martyr
Who lays it on the line,
Edible is the lonely lass
Who sits alone and festers
Edible is the drunken lush
With an empty bed and beer stein,
Edible are you
And edible am I
Edible is anyone
Who doesn’t see the signs.
Bury the Bumble Grit
I haven’t been around… not sure who noticed. And no, it isn’t some silly game. I started school this week; two seven-week progressive courses which are essentially fifteen weeks smashed into seven.
I mean, I have a mid-term in two weeks. I am still writing as much as I can but I left the day job at 1 pm Wednesday to go get my textbooks and catch up on some studies.
I guess you could say I am as busy as a bumble bee.
In other news, my area, Bucks County, has some serious murder mystery stuff going on! Four young men went missing last week and there are connections to another young man who is the son of farm owners in the Solebury section of the county.
The ground was dug up with a backhoe where cadaver dogs sniffed out the scent of human remains buried over twelve feet beneath the surface. I cannot imagine the mentality of someone who would go through so much trouble to bury a body that far underground! I won’t go into detail, as you may have already heard the story. I feel sad for the families of these young men.
Finally, I am looking forward to this weekend. Getting caught up on my studies and focus on the end game which is an associate’s degree! I have the grit to pull it off for sure. I have been dragging my ass on finishing school since I started way back in 2001. I was gung ho for a couple years and managed to get 36 credits, but then I had that whole issue with the drugs and drinking and despite getting sober in 2006, still didn’t pursue my goal.
Well, things go the way they go for whatever reason and I am excited to finally be back in the game.
Do you have any goals (long or short-term) you are currently pursuing?
Have a great week! I will try to write something creative once I get caught up on my studies this weekend.
Blessed Be!
Daily Prompt: Caper
The caper was weak
Twisted rungs of pure decay
If only I screamed
Quill
Staring blank I were
Awed by a lush, vivid quill
Crimson; serious
Dreamy ideas
My eyes gazed at the paper
Weathered; Broken in
Goosebumps on my skin
Oh the worlds I could create
Paper; quill and soul
Tethered to Ideals
Tethered to ideals
Validation; I crave it
Fragmented mirror
Pluck the Pansies
When I was little, I was a kid. And when I was a kid, I did things because I wanted to do them. I had no insurgent idea about right and wrong or good and bad.
I just was.
Others instilled inside of me the fears, doubts, hopes, dreams, love, hate, good and bad that leaked inside me and I carried this into society as I grew.
That’s how it goes.
One day, I was standing in my grandmother’s yard, awed by the beauty of flowers by the front step. Their bright petals with the dark colored faces stunned my thoughts as I stood motionless; the beauty captivated my little mind and I needed to be closer.
I bent down and smelled the brilliant blooms and just like that, I plucked the delicate flower from its bed.
I plucked it for my own selfish needs – for no other reason. I just wanted it.
I stole its little life.
I skipped away with my new trophy.
I would steal flower lives intermittently as my life swirled and changed. They were so pretty, so magical.
I wanted to be like the flowers I picked.
Then one day long after that day…
It didn’t matter how many flowers I picked.
They would always die. And so would my happiness.
Later, after many withered flower carcasses…
I let the flowers just be – as I just was – and I would visit them.
And their enchanting beauty would be there.
Just as I was.
