
Please Allow Me To Sting Myself
I do and I have. One should never put their writing out there until it’s ready.
Please Allow Me To Sting Myself
I do and I have. One should never put their writing out there until it’s ready.
I keep journals. Note books I use them to help me find peace and sort my life out. Thoughts on friends and finances.
I make changes in my life. However, I have the tendency to repeat. When writing things down, it becomes obvious.
The photo on the left is of my friend Connie. She was loved by many people. I had written about being with her when she passed, 2015. In the photo, we were at the funeral of Rachael Sutton. (She initiated Starting Point – you know it or you don’t.)
Connie passed with lung cancer.
As she was dying, she told me stories of her life. They were great stories. She didn’t want anyone to know. They were antics of her mother, Hazel. Poor Hazel.
I never knew Hazel, but I admired her in a way that Connie couldn’t. She wasn’t my mother.
I’ve seen his name many times. I’ve seen Bukowski quotes often. But yesterday, I saw him on you tube.
I have a lot in common with Bukowski. And that was why his writing became so popular. People could relate to his life. We have many differences as well. Who knows, after all it was only about an hour long interview. So, how much can I really compare. He doesn’t like people. He liked a solitary existence and he liked to drink beer. He said his childhood was a hell.
A big difference between him and I was; he wrote. And he worked. I worked here and there, but he was more successful at keeping a job than I was. He would write about his experiences. I couldn’t do that. Until I finally did. Also, he said his only concern was for himself. I have been entirely too co-dependent in my life to make such a statement.
And he always wrote in first person. He didn’t write for “success”. He wrote to stay alive. (check)
He drank a lot. It looked like his choice was beer. (check)
I no longer drink beer. I quit at thirty one. I walked through the doors of AA. When I came in, it was different. A different time a different world and I loved it. It’s had its rocky moments. But I overcame them all. – Then the judges started sending in all their D.U. I. people. And in the early nineties, people began to substitute psychotropics for their inventories.
Now I have tremendous conflict in meetings. I have fat boys, that don’t like what I say. Good Lord they need to look in the mirror and while they are at it, they should record the stupid shit that they are saying.
I was all well and good with the conflict. I have always heeded to the last paragraph on page 19. Respect everyone’s share. Then started the attacks. I have been verbally attacked in the past, but this was a barrage. I believe it a result of ageism and the new hate for old timers, in general. They look at me with my grey hair and choose me as prey. They have no idea.
For example: One guy looks like Homer Simpson. He says that only the first eighty eight pages, in the Big Book count. He is disparaging of women’s shares. He wanted to buy a 5000 square foot house. And he wonders why he can’t get along with his wife. He was in meetings for 14 years and never worked a step. Now he has and he is on fire for everyone to be like him. FMD — One meeting, I was sharing my experience, of my first sponsor being Buddhist. He screamed at me, “This has nothing to do with Buddhism.” blahblahblah – The other fat boy is just fat and he thinks he’s good looking. He cut me off. He didn’t want to hear what I had to say. He thinks he is interesting.
My thoughts behind this is – What would it have been like if Bukowski came to a meeting.
WOW –
I am so inspired by his words. Because I know they are true. But in a meeting he would be a challenge. It might be a better option for some people to just stay home and write.
Who needs fake authenticity.
Hello!
I am thinking of adventure – on the heels of my house work – on the heels of my daughter’s passing.
I haven’t been writing like I would have wanted to. I’ve had plenty to say and an over flow of thoughts and opinions, but prudence held me back. There’s much sensitivity out there; sadness and anger.
I don’t want to stir the pot.
I write to make sense of my life, which now includes my daughter’s death. It’s been hard. None of it seemed real. Then it seemed real and then it didn’t seem real.
So, I will work. I will clean my house. And I will plan my new adventure. My daughter will be with me always.
It’s 3:30 in the morning and the rain has woke me. I can’t help, but hear it’s relentlessness, on my tin roof. The sound of the rain brings joy to my heart. It promotes contemplation. It heals me. It washes the earth.
When I was young, on a Saturday afternoon, in the middle of this neighborhood, looking to score, at the local tavern, The Island Bar, I found myself surrounded by police cars, I was shocked to be white. It was so obvious. They were there to break up a fight, I was really wishing I was a different color. They looked at me, cutting their eyes, saying, “what the hell are you doing here?”
Continue reading Hello, Old FriendThe Coveted LIEBSTER AWARD
Most people enjoy a pat on the back; a bit of recognition for their hard work. I know I do. But at the same time, in this instance, it feels like whoops. More people will read my blog. My writing is somewhat like my conversations. I’m never quite sure what I’m going to say. Attention can be scary.
I am honored to be nominated for the Liebster Award by The Beauty Within. This blog touts itself as, The Twisted random thoughts of a 20 something year old. A Girl Named Dee, the author, lives in rural Zambia and studies computer science. She is also a talented fashion designer. I began reading her blog when I started writing mine. I think I enjoyed the spontaneity of it, and her youthful perspective. Thank you very much Beauty Within.
The Rules of the Liebster Award are as follows:
I begin with answering 11 questions.
Questions asked by The Beauty Within:
11 Random facts about myself
11 Questions for my nominees
From what I understand, this is all quite tongue in cheek. The Liebster award is a way for blogs to be further circulated and for bloggers to recognize their peers. I know that a few I have chosen will opt-out on this award, but some will gladyly accept. I participated, partly because it was another challenge, also it is an opportunity for me to have some fun. Rule #62-don’t take yourself so seriously.
The blogs that I choose to pass this torch to are:
Thank you fellow bloggers. I wouldn’t follow you if I thought you were BAD. You actually add measures of interest to my life. So, CHEERS!
Part of being a blogger is reading other people’s blogs. It reminds me of when I did art shows. I attended other artist‘s openings. Who would want to be an artist, that only went to their own show?
I always knew that I was an artist…..long before I knew how to draw or paint.
It’s something inherent in me.
People are provoked by art and creativity, but they also seem to shy away from it. It’s portrayed as being frivolous, yet we’re surrounded by it on every level of our lives. That’s ironic.
I am reminded of the movie Castaway.
I love to use this as an example of the importance of art in our lives. Tom Hanks, playing the part of a Fed Ex type, upper manager, is in a company plane crash and stranded on a deserted island. Up until that moment in his life, everything hinged on speed. Continue reading Blogging as Art
It seems I have given myself yet another job, where I work for FREE.
My unpaid jobs pay me in a way that money cannot provide.
I enjoy writing my blog. I think it’s because it is socializing. I connect with people I will never see and never know, except through their writing and their pictures.
I read other people’s blogs and yes, we are all stories. There are three that have affected me recently; The Skeptical Teenager, The Beauty Within and another one that I can’t find again. I thought for sure I liked one of her posts, but it’s not on file. She was a woman whose grammar didn’t exist. She wrote in the vernacular and her blog was the story of her life. She only had four posts and I couldn’t believe it~she had 78 followers.
Writing is powerful.
It is art.
It is informative.
It can take you apart and it can put you back together.
This is a great blog! I laughed because I related. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.