joannebest











{December 27, 2014}   Writing Again

writing3

Well that didn’t take very long.
Yesterday I swore up and down and all around that I would write.
I even tried to force myself to write by announcing it on facebook (which, by the way, I kinda hate but that’s a post for another day-oh!!!! I just admitted there will be another day of writing! Perhaps I am not doomed after all!), ummm, as I was saying, I figured if I made a grand announcement to my friends and family I’d be forced to write, else I may be banished to the Forest Of Lying Liars Who Lie, Unintentionally Or Not.

I unintentionally lied.
Because I didn’t write. {imagines finger-pointing and ridicule as I’m led in shackles toward the center of a crowd full of mask-clad…uh, wait, that’s another ‘nother story, with a different rating}

See, I lived inside my own head for so long, writing and writing yet never putting my fingers to the keyboard so now I have to retrain my brain and flex my fingers and just do it.
I picked a hell of a time to try and start writing again.
Everyone is home, our new Siamese kitten has decided that he wants to be a writer only he want to use my computer. Did I mention he only wants to write when I’m using my computer?
Plus there’s all this Merry Christmas/Happy New Year stuff and somewhere along the line, in my senseless self-imposed exile from writing, I forgot how to multitask.

I’m not worried {nope, not me, no worry here, not a bit}.
I just need some practice.
Please be gentle, I’ll be back to me in the flick of a Djinn’s finger.
djinn

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{June 19, 2014}   Unanswerable Riddles

forestroadeye
you make me think
more than i should,
see, my stubborn claws just won’t let go of a thing,
but when those movies fill my head,
they’re mine, not yours,
or maybe they’re coincidentally ours
because i don’t steal your thoughts
and you don’t steal mine,
the similarities are purely unintentional,
or another version of the chicken and the egg
and what came first,
an unanswerable riddle,
kinda like how we found ourselves on the same side of the road,
i wonder sometimes,
if we deviated from the norm
maybe hid amongst the brush and foliage,
lost in a pile of forgotten clutter,
i wonder,
would anyone notice?
forestroad



{July 2, 2013}   Bubble Back

blueflowerdreeem
when i wonder
what i wonder in those stretched out hours
between one day and the next
thoughts of you trampoline through my mind
too frequent for my comfort they tumble tangled
so i just let them bounce till dawn
when i wake
i dress myself in armor and paint on a grin
my manufactured smiles can calm the most savage of beasts
and my illusion is complete
until you show up and barrel through my defense
one by one you blast apart each roadblock
pushing and pulling you tug at me
till i bubble back where i belong
up high
where i can breathe again and see clear for miles
waterdream



{May 12, 2013}   Feeling Sorry For Myself

lonenessI think I’m feeling sorry for myself.
Contrary to popular belief, I really don’t do that too much, feel sorry for myself. I already went though that woe-is-me period a million times and while I may lapse backward every once in awhile I make a conscious effort to not. Feel sorry for myself.
Maybe if I keep repeating it I’ll get sick of it enough to knock it the hell off.
I feel sorry for myself.
The more I say it the more pissed off I get.
Mostly at the domino effect of the fucked-up-edness that is this thing called life. Because fuck you life, you don’t get a capital “L” right now, you’ve been out of control lately and therein lie the problem; control and the lack thereof.
Yeah ok, sure, I’ll take control of a life where 100 bucks gets you $40 worth of groceries. Because money has nothing to do with being able to make important Real Life Decisions.

Now I really know I’m feeling sorry for myself because I’m not big with the whole money-hungry thing. Never have been.
Give me a pen, a notebook and a cup of hot sweet tea and I’m good.
Add the ocean and a cat and a stack of books and I’m golden.
Except the rest of the world doesn’t work that way.
And it’s my first Mother’s Day without my Mother.
And I’m feeling sorry for myself.

And so fucking alone.



et cetera