joannebest











{September 18, 2014}   Looking For Me

alice and dorothy
“Sometimes the slightest things change the directions of our lives, the merest breath of a circumstance, a random moment that connects like a meteorite striking the earth. Lives have swiveled and changed direction on the strength of a chance remark.”
― Bryce Courtenay

I haven’t been here for awhile.
I mean, I haven’t been here for awhile; as in present, aware, involved. As in my engine stopped running and I can’t get me started. Not even a good old fashioned strong push and pop it into 1st gear works, never mind jumper cables.
And I’ve tried, believe me, I have been trying on a daily basis to get myself out of this deep well of despair but nothing seems to work. I don’t think shock therapy could even get me going.
I have moments. Moments of clarity and moments of laughter. Moments of listlessness and moments of lethargy. Moments where I feel I can conquer this monster shadowing my every move followed by suffocating moments, where I feel breathless, anxious, debilitated, drained of every ounce of my self.
I don’t know where I am.
The me I’ve known all my life has disappeared, gone missing, held hostage somewhere I can’t seem to access, it feels as if all my files have been scrubbed. Deleted. Along with my confidence.
I’ve become unreliable.
The absolute worst thing I can imagine happening to me is the thought of being unreliable.
I don’t want to be unreliable.
Ever.
Yet this is where I seem to find myself.
It’s taken me a few days to write these few words and that is unacceptable to me.
I began this on my happy feet and have allowed myself to land on my unhappy ass by tripping over my own self.
A few days ago I met http://maryannemistretta.wordpress.com/ for lunch and it was wonderful.
Nearly four hours of nonstop talking and I drove away happy, inspired, encouraged, stronger, braver. It was one of the best days of my life and definitely the best time I’ve had in longer than I can remember.
It was also raining really hard and I forgot. Forgot that my stupid health has a mind of it’s own, one I have no control over. Here it is days later and I’m still sick, in bed, with a fever.
I have let not only myself down, but I have let Maryanne down. I was going to see her today at one of her appearances but no, I’m in bed with a 101 degree fever and a spinning head.
I have let down http://thereclininggentleman.wordpress.com/ , who I practically begged to do a Fiction Rally with, only to find myself way past my deadline.
TRG is, of course, wonderful and understanding and patient but I’m furious with myself. It’s all there in my head, I just have to type it out of my head and onto the page.
I guess posting this little bit of words is a step in the right direction. Today has been a trying day to say the least, but there have been moments. Moments of near-tears and sniffles. Moments of laughter and smiles. Sighs of worry followed by sighs of relief.
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I am my own worst enemy.
It’s long past time to start fighting back. For myself.
fightingmyself1



I am reblogging this, written the evening of September 11th, 2001
there is nothing else I can say on this day, except love each other.

joannebest

9112

lay me down, lay me down,
lay me down for I am weary
lay me down

will you lead me to the water
will you take me down below
will you offer me some comfort
tell me, where am I to go
will you give to me some shelter
just a place to lay my head
let me sleep the sleep of children
let me sleep till I forget

lay me down, lay me down,
lay me down for I am weary
lay me down

will you fill my soul with goodness
will you show me there is light
let me count the stars in Heaven
spirits shining in the night
will you hold my hand in your hand
lay your kiss upon my brow
tell me there will be tomorrow
that we’ll make it back somehow
911
It was the sirens that woke me up that morning 12 years ago…

View original post 341 more words



{September 6, 2014}   My Torturer

stars2
dangle treats before me
and i’m on my knees
crawling,
begging for attention
as your footprints leave a mark,
i never learn you see,
but you figured that out years ago
back when i still believed
in anything,
once upon a time the stars hung low,
within my reach, even with my eyes closed,
you told me to be fearless
so i followed your lead
till i noticed the cracks in the heavens,
inconsistencies
though i brushed it off as circumstance
and tried to carry on,
i noticed one day, the lamp was growing dim,
out of wishes
or just plain used up,
a brand new world where everything is old
and nothing is as it appears,
i fall for the lie and twist it into truth,
misplaced belief because i always look back
in an effort to burn what was,
into my mind,
forgetting all the while,
i am my own torturer
torturer



{September 5, 2014}   Rage

rage
~
rage
bubbling through my blood,
little pockets of anger
mixed with tiny flakes of metal
from the repeated knife-wounds in my back,
red is what i see when my eyes close
everything turns hazy when they open,
every shade of black brushes through
every word you ever said,
and the joke is on me because i always believe,
in fate in you in the roll of the dice,
while you laugh it off and redirect,
tell me a story that i heard a million times
and i silently paint my smile wider as i concentrate
on that buzzing in my ears,
like a needle skipping on an old 45
it all echoes
over
and
over
same old same old cycling
and me on the floor, passive,
beaten down by proxy
and forgetting my own name,
rage,
at my gullible,
my weak,
nothing more than hope mingled with trust
yet it gets me every time,
rage
at my frozen,
and the flicker fanned to a flame
only to flutter away,
wherever the wind blows,
like a blown out candle,
while underneath we still bubble,
quiet and unnoticed,
me and my rage
~
rage3



et cetera