The Nothings

I had a dream that left me inspired but sad. Not sad but heartbroken. Not heartbroken but empty. This could be due to the current feelings I went to bed with or a situation or the fact that I can feel other people’s emotions. The only problem with this is I can’t let it go.


There’s a darkness that escapes only to feel the light for a second.
This escape is a leak of nothings.
It’s feeling a loss that was never found or buried.
It’s feeling cold in a warm car.
It’s a memory that never happened.
It’s being lonely with someone sleeping next to you.
It’s feeling empty after a meal.
It’s pretending to be happy when all you want to do is cry.
Let the darkness escape to feel the light.
Feel all the nothing feelings.
And when you’ve felt all that you can feel of the nothing,
Seek out the why and give the nothings something to hold and feel.

Friday’s Corner

It’s Friday! Made it through another week. I’ve had hardly any work to do but since everything is blocked on the internet I’m left sitting playing solitaire on the computer. I had people express their sympathy for how I’m being treated and that it hasn’t gone unnoticed but that’s not going to change the fact that I’m looking for another job. I had two emails from employers, ‘we are going ahead with our process’ or ‘we feel another candidate would be better suited.’ I’m just hoping that my current employer has given a bad reference. Why would they? I’m bringing my doodle book and some other stuff to keep me occupied.

I wrote a little short story. It’s nothing much but it was enough to get me excited about writing again. Happy Friday!

Corner Watcher

For years she played with Gemma. They were inseparable just as a girl and friend should be. Then her Gemma grew apart having less in common. Gemma sits on a chair in the corner of her friend’s room, watching as she made plans and growing up.
She sat in that corner for years watching her friend grow up into a young woman.
She watched triumphs and trophies, first loves and heartbreaks. She watched fights with her parents and life learned lessons. Through the years Gemma noticed an unknown shadow slowly get closer to her friend’s window. At first, Gemma didn’t think anything of it but grew concerned when she could see that the shadow had human characteristics. She wanted to scream at her once forever friend about the danger lurking outside. One night her friend was woken by the sound of broken glass. Gemma could see the figure was now in the room and her friend was making an escape. Gemma glared the man down as he hurriedly left out the window he broke through. The father came in the room with a 911 operator on the floor, ‘Yes, I think we’ll be able to identify the intruder,’ as he picked up Gemma from her corner chair. As usual, Gemma saw everything sitting in the corner. The triumphs, heartbreaks, plans being made and thanks to the little nanny came, she also saw the intruder.

UGH ADULTING IS A LOT!

Morning Readers…
I started yesterday on a short story and POOF! Gone! I don’t know if our IT guy at work has now blocked simple Microsoft Office programs or if my computer crashed. With my Adobe work still fulling intact, I’m betting my money on him being a prude and blocking most everything. What I have been doing is starting my writing in Word and pasting in my draft. Now, I’ll be using Google Docs. Why this is going to be short, I’m doing more adult tasks like setting up my portfolio to better my chances at getting a different job. Why didn’t I have one before? I was using iPage with all the backups bells and whistles when it CRASHED 2 years ago. I didn’t worry as I paid extra for their recovery services and that was a waste of money. This means I need to start over. The other problem I’m facing is the fact that I signed a confidentiality contract due to the clients the company work with. This means I need to get creative or take a 3 year hit. Creative it is.

I will try to get more writing in between building my portfolio back up and running plus I’m also working on my Google Ads certification. Fingers crossed I can get this done by tonight. I know this is a lot of mundane information for my readers but this is where I’m at and I’m trying to stay positive. This is also where my head cues my anxiety to join the party and sabotage my goals. Happy Friday everyone.

Deprecation and Humor

I don’t know what I would call this? A poem? It doesn’t qualify as a limerick. It’s just a little conversational example of my thoughts through some days. But I also wanted to include what I tell myself and some of the humor in it. The past month was brutal but I was realized I made it worse for myself. I withdrew from a lot and it wasn’t really for soul searching it was for other reasons. My husband wasn’t much help but I stopped blaming him for most of the issue. I had to pull myself out of the slump. I was afraid that if I fell further into it there would be no coming out. I’m getting there and forcing myself to find time for things I like to do. I included one of my Inktober doodles for this poem. I  thought it was fitting.


I’m not normal, what is wrong with me?
-It’s ok, what is normal anyway?
I’m not society’s vision of beautiful?
-It’s ok, why do you want to be like everyone else?
I don’t make enough money.
-Are you comfortable, house, food, and a little extra for coffee?
I’m not adequate for another job.
-If you don’t try then you’ll never go anywhere?
Why do I question my own existence?
-Are you talking to me?

Happy Birthday Daddy

Today is my father’s birthday. As I get older I now understand how important it was to him for us to just be there. We didn’t have to bring gifts of cake but our presence was what he wanted. It’s what I now want with the kids getting older and having their own lives and things to do. I’m learning to let a lot go and understand that they have to grow even if it means away from me. Tonight I thought we would all go out to dinner for my dad’s birthday and then over the weekend, I’ll work on finding a Scottish or Swedish dessert recipe to take place of his birthday cake, or even better a Scottish cake. If any of my readers have a recipe of Scottish or Swedish origins to share it would be greatly appreciated.

I thought I would try my hand at poetry again but this time kind of honoring my father and my quest to understand what he unknowingly passed down to me.


I Lost Something

I lost something I’ve never known.
Obsolete and unsure,
without the guidance from a living cornerstone.
Often wondering if I belong or even where,
Identifying with no one and solitaire.

I lost something I’ve never known.
Is it there and can it be shown?
Do I ask to learn?
Is this my concern?

I lost something I’ve never known
but promise an oath to learn of seeds sown.
How do I prepare?
I’ll start with some cookware.

Prompt: August The Doll Maker

Back to my goals of writing and plan on catching up on my classes here soon. This means I have to push myself instead of curling up in my recliner brooding over bullshit that I can’t handle. Yes, this isn’t my best work but it’s something. I took August’s prompt words and created a short story.


August the Doll Maker
lawyer justifies beliefs

‘The headline read: Lawyer Justifies Beliefs.’ It was difficult not to follow the doll maker’s story. Growing up we were told not to go in the north woods where a society of witch crafting people dwelled. It was rumored that the witches that lived in the woods would steal children and keep them stored in their cellars like we would keep pickled vegetable and jam for the winter months. I turned the page to read about the wide-eyed doll that was the key evidence in the crime.

The doll creator, August, being charged with murder was a feeble man that everyone in our town felt sorry for and purchased his creations as often as possible. They weren’t your run of the mill homemade crocheted dolls or something that you see everyone on a Pinterest DIY mom board try to recreate. No. For a man living in the woods created beautiful, delicate, yet resilient dolls that stood the test of time. I actually have one of his sitting on my mantle that was my mother’s. I cringed looking at the doll and back down at the paper.

The doll maker’s picture in the paper made him look more domineering than weak and I found an absence of sorrow for him. ‘The bodies of 3 missing kids and cow were found during the search of the property.’ I felt betrayed more than anything as I’m sure the entire town was feeling, reading the same paper. We trusted this man believing he was trying to launch a business so he and his family wouldn’t go hungry, but that wasn’t the case. He didn’t have a family to feed he had crimes to cover. ‘The surviving victim stated that he was supposed to be part of the next line of products. Lamps were something that his kidnapper would work on almost every night by the light of his own old coal oil lamp. August wanted to bring back the antique light sources.’

The paper continued ‘August struggled with creating a voice box that mooed for his farm animal line of dolls and was some of his most recent unsuccessful creations.’ I remember those mooing dolls. They were hideous cow shaped monstrosities that he was very pushy about selling. The sound after pulling the cord on the animal’s back wasn’t a moo but more of a cow being slaughtered. I nervously laughed that day, struggling with politely refusing the purchase. I crossed the street that day and turned to see a child clinging to his mother as the doll maker realized that he was losing another sale. The image of the survivor that was pictured in the paper was the same child that clung to his mother that day. The child looked as if he aged overnight full of wisdom and advice.  I guess a traumatic experience would do that to any person.

I finished my cereal while reading the article. ‘The doll maker believed that sacrifices had to be made to live in today’s society stated his lawyer. While the lawyer curved this reporter’s questions of black magic and the death of children he did state that his client was mentally unstable to stand trial and his medical team will ensure that his client will get all the medical treatment necessary and are diligent in his care. He is asking for the death penalty to be removed as part sentencing and a life without parole be considered instead. The lawyer also stated that his beliefs are justified as many people pray for survival in this world. He shouldn’t be persecuted for his religion and solely on his crimes that don’t warrant death as he was delusional about how to worship. The doll that was gathered for evidence was created from his previous victims discovered through forensic testing and the police are asking that anyone with a doll created by the defendant to bring it to the police station.’ I clapped my hands together afraid to touch the poor soul sitting on my shelf and instead ran and dialed the local PD to remove the doll.

What is wrong with me?

I find that I’m asking myself more and more this month. I had HUGE plans for everything that I wanted to do and complete. The goals that I’ve set for myself are falling by the wayside. I sat down to write yesterday for Fenton and it was GARBAGE! Nothing made sense and it seemed like it was dragging on and on and not going anywhere. Is Fenton even worth pursuing? I would like to think so but I wasn’t feeling it. Was it because I’m not feeling good? Distracted?

I’m behind on my painting and doodles and it all just feels like I’m drowning. Then to throw in the mix learning about Norse mythology, gardening, weaving PLUS dieting; I think I bit off more than I can chew. Or did I? Do I just stop writing altogether and let my blog go dormant? (I REALLY don’t want to do that.)

I need to figure out what I REALLY want to do…priorities. Is there a way I can earn a wage, stay home, and do what I love? If I wasn’t at work all day I might be able to get everything done that I want along with exploring new things. Write or not to write?

6 Word Story: 8/22

Why in the world did I choose this word for today’s prompt? I encourage you to try a 6-word story. I was laughing more than anything trying to choose something. I needed a laugh. I’ve been treating my stomach nicely to some broths and wheat toast. I’m SO afraid of what the scale will say tomorrow.


Prompt Word: Moo

Earth's secrets are held by animals.

 

6 Word Story: 8/20

I tend to be the person that takes something that bothers me and brood over it. I do it more than I should and it’s just wasted energy. I worked and worked on this prompt trying to make it a positive one.


Prompt Word: Dwell

Reside in confidence and defy failure.

 

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