Musings...

A random rambling and jumble of thoughts.   Decoding all these thoughts so that the words can be put to paper without it being too muddled. Trying to let this mind wander so that there is something to write about. Trying to avoid using the words “I” or “my” or “me”. Wander mind wander... The mind is distracted by the sounds of the television and the dog barking at the same time. Trying to find a word that is a synonym for the “same time”.   Giving up before these thoughts are lost. Finding thoughts about people, people from the past, old friends, old school friends. Teenage crushes, many, many, many teenage crushes. High school cat fights, high school good times. Friends met along the journey. New friends lost and old friends found.   A yearning. Nostalgia. Reminiscence.   Sentimentality. An urge. Self control. Memories. How these years have flown by. Nineteen and pregnant. What went through this mind? What went through everyone else’s mind? Judgm...

Forever...   Dreaming a dream Attempting to live Fighting the foolish Discovering a means Exploring jumbled messages Losing the outer battle Deciphering these secrets Peace-keeping, my mission Planting seeds my vision Capturing all the moments Love living in this crazy world Finally winning the inner war  

I will never forget the day my English teacher walked into class, put a cassette into the tape recorder and played Richard Marx's song "Hazard"! Wow! My first thoughts were that I had the coolest teacher on this planet! She then began analyzing this song like she would a poem. It suddenly hit me, this was a poetry lesson. I think of that day often. My outlook on music and poetry changed drastically after that single English lesson. Music and poetry had become so much more meaningful to me. Here I found myself listening to songs over and over again trying to decipher their inner, deeper meanings. I still find myself doing that to this day. Forever  searching for poetic musical artists. I listen to and appreciate their art and I do this in the same way, perhaps with a little more interest, as I would when reading Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Robert Frost and so forth's art. Poetry is so much prettier when sung to a tune.     A picture that best suits my topic ...

Suffering from symptoms of Misanthropy and Misology was utterly exhausting. How on earth did she come to feel this way about life and human beings? Recluse is what she would be labeled soon if she did not pluck herself up out of that ditch. Plato’s quote echoed monotonously in her mind, “Just like someone might love and trust all human   beings but when deceived by one man can grow to dislike all humanity, so can someone who trusts in reason or logic grow to distrust it when he sees that it can be misused to support any stance.” Vision was blurred as though a thick layer of Vaseline was smeared over her eyes. What she believed to be reality was in turn a belief brought to her through manipulation by others, many un-truths and her own silly naiivity. She was also to blame. Trusting too many, hoping and believing that it was real. Broken trust, love and hope. She tried to move on but instead became a master of Misanthropy and a doubter of reasoning and logic. Misanthrop...

  If we just stopped to smell the roses we would see that this world is still a beautiful place. The turmoil inside this world has placed a mask over our eyes and this beautiful place is just passing us by. Well, all this is changing! My mask is fading. I can smell the sweet scent of these roses.   There is no turning back. It is time to climb every mountain, ride the biggest waves. The mask will dissipate and we can finally LIVE in this beautiful place!