I am love.
I have love.
I feel love.
I believe in love.
Love guides me.
Love carries me through life.
Love is always with me.
To love something you must believe in it.
The word love is loaded with many meanings. In this case I mean “connection to that which is positive”.
Write each affirmation 10 times, say them many times during the day especially in the morning and at bedtime.
Don’t forget the mirror.
We are now one third the way through the thirty day countdown. Hope you are feeling better.
Loneliness is when you are in a cave and your visibility is lower by the total darkness, you can hear the growls and the only emotion you can feel fear, utter nerve gripping fear, your sense of smell is heighten, perceiving the wet fur of ravaging dogs…WOLVES to be precise as they approach with deadly silence and precision, you are trapped, pinned to the wall, nowhere to run.
Can you be comforted by the very fact that you trained half of these wolves, about to pounce on you, after years of nurturing, training and affection? When they were hungry you provided food, when they were cold you shared you bed and blanket, when they were in danger you fought their enemies.
Is it delusion to believe that your role as a surrogate mother will be surpassed by their union with the other half of their pack that has been lost…
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The joke’s on me.
For a few days now, I’ve been talking to my friend about the fact that the only way to get over a writer’s block is to write. Thanks to NaNoWriMo, I’ve realised that we are our own worst critics and that if we edit and proof read as we write, chances are we will stop half way through. How many unfinished posts I have hanging around on my dashboard. How many texts I have in notebooks, on my phone, on any scrap of paper. Ideas that I save for later but that I never revisit.
His problem was (is?) that he’s to tough with himself. He wants to create a perfect post, so if it doesn’t reach his standards, he just deletes it. My answer was, has been, and will always be to just write. That’s pretty much the topic of his last post
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Three years ago I became serious about becoming an author. “Read books your audience is reading” was the first advice I latched onto. For twenty years I had been reading middle grade books out loud to kids, but at home and leisure time I spent time mostly with books for adults.
I made the change and began devouring every middle school book in sight. Of course there were long stares in airports or other public places as people saw my nose buried in TIMMY FAILURE or MIDDLE SCHOOL, THE WORST YEARS OF MY LIFE. But other more understated titles often brought interest from whoever was seated in 12F.
After reading dozens of titles, the original advice was spot on and I have observed a few things that have changed me as a reader and a writer.
- I find writing flows better after a reading session. The creative juices get cranked…
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*Image found HERE
Tell me Lies
Do not tell me of the Sun’s exigent duality,
my teeth are predatory, full of cavities and flesh,
this breathing thing we do, a mere technicality,
the Moon is in my eyes and sky ‘s my only creche.
Do not tell me of the flower’s pungent mortality,
of wishes torn, tear-christened and undressed,
your words would be futile, I’m at war with sobriety
and a nimbus ticks away, here inside my chest.
Mute your lips, my dearest, and let the Autumn reign,
my temple here is golden, tho crumbling with the years,
no need for any words, I’ m familiar with pain
cruel wisdoms on this tongue are quickly stirred and seared.
Tell instead of dreams that hither while I’m on the bus
and how without their lonesome note there wouldn’t be no us.
*Wrote this for Tim’s Sonnet Workshop, check it out…
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