Sometimes I just have to write things down to get them out of my head or

so I can look at them in black and white, and solid.

I had a bunch of ‘inspirational’ pages on my FB list – on a good day they contradict each other. Most of the time they make me barf.  Often my reaction is “And what universe do you live in?” And sometimes they make me feel bad. Words from a nameless stranger making me feel bad…yeah, that’s got to go. I’m not going to allow that.

What is wrong with wanting more or better? It doesn’t mean you don’t appreciate what you have. It doesn’t mean you are greedy and ungrateful, unless of course you expect someone to just hand it over. It just means, as good as something might be, and as much as you might enjoy and appreciate it, there is a version of that thing you would enjoy more and like better. “You’re never satisfied!” – I do not understand why that is a bad thing. We are always being told, by those inspirational sayings, to go for the gold, reach for the stars, live your dream. Then we are told, don’t be such a greedy bastard.

I think I need to stop reading such crap. Along with horoscopes and anything to do with my chakras. Or anything remotely metaphysical, philosophical, spiritual or religious. Eyes straight ahead, find my own way. Thank you very much.

I don’t think I do woulda-coulda-shoulda all that much. Certainly not in a poor-me-want-some-cheese-with-that-whine sort of way. When I make mistakes I make big ones – at work, in my personal life – mistakes made – Huge.  I look back at them, on rare occasions, and think – suppose I hadn’t made that mistake. What then – how would my life have been different. I don’t have enough imagination to come up with anything. You can’t come up with anything because there is no way of knowing. Zero, zilch, zip, nada, ninguno – no way.

Did I learn from my mistakes? Absolutely not. Because I kept making the same ones – over and over. Go Me! So much for being in the moment. Caught up in the moment you forget there are more moments coming hard on the heels of the current one. And you’d better be thinking about them, planning for them – you can enjoy now but later is looming over your shoulder – Big Time.

I’ve always had a thing about security. I needed, still do, to feel secure, safe. I’ve never felt that, most probably never will. But that need for security immobilized me – I stayed too long – in jobs, in apartments, in places, with people. It took me a long time to decide to move on, move out, and tell people buh-buh. Once I did, finally, make the decision – it was made. And done. And no going back.

Sometime in my late 30’s, after 3 years of therapy, I started making those decision more quickly. I learned to say no, I learned to say good-bye – quickly. As quick as I saw that it was not a positive place to stay. Done! Bam! Moving on. NOW.  That made for a lot of – What now? Didn’t care, as long as it wasn’t that/them/it. I survived, sometimes I thrived. Sometimes I didn’t.

I will never be able to put my needs before others. I will never truly feel, in my bones, that my needs are just as important as someone else’s. I will think they are. I will whine, but only to myself, that they are, but I won’t act on it. Whether it’s my innate nature, or something that has become hard-wired in me, from my life experience – don’t know. I do know it won’t be changing  – not in this lifetime.

I will always feel unworthy. Do I know I am smart, funny, loving, loveable, a good person? Yes. But the only thing I believe, unshakably, arrogantly – is that I am smart. The rest – I might know it, but I don’t believe it.

I will always, and forever, be six years old.  The six-year old I was when I was six-years old. With one tiny difference. The six year old I am now, and forever, is a happy and loved six-year old. She lives in my heart where I keep her safe…

Categories *Tags


Allegory : The representation of abstract ideas or principles by characters, figures, or events in narrative, dramatic, or pictorial form.

I don’t like them.

My husband’s youngest daughter is fond of allegorical novels. She sends him books as gifts – “The Life of Pi” was one. He never finished it. I, having read the reviews, never started it. Yesterday, as a Father’s Day gift she sent him “Cloud Atlas”. I Googled the book and said “You’re not gonna like this book!” He said “Why?” I said “It’s another Life of Pi – no plot”. He started the book this morning and yeah, 20 pages in, not liking it.

I’m a straight forward sort of person. Yes, I can go on and on about things, but the things are the actual things. My things aren’t things that are substitutes, allegories, for other things. If I say something is, then it is. No head scratching needed.

I do appreciate allegory in art. Dali is allegorical, as is Magritte – stating the obvious here. But not in novels – not in such a way that instead of enjoying a story you spend your reading time trying to figure out what the hell the author is talking about and what the point is. I have no patience for that.

I like psychological stories, I like Alice Hoffman because so many of her novels involve, I don’t know what to call it, the supernatural? For me it’s not – but I’m weird that way. I believe in selkies.

There is a way to tell a story, make a point, have there be layers of meaning, and still be entertaining. Aesop’s Fables are allegories. But so is Winnie the Pooh.

I’m not a deep thinker. I know what I know. How I know a lot of what I know is something I question – but not for long.

I have no imagination. I love dragons, always have. They are not something I thought up – they don’t represent anything. They are what they are – dragons. Large lizards that fly…they come in different colors with different skills and abilities. I love them, they’re cool but…they’re just dragons.

And this post has no deep meaning other that what it appears to be – a disjointed, short ramble of what’s going through my head while I wait for my waffles to toast…

Categories *