She Being Me

Question? Hmm?   The point of view of She: Writer, Thinker, Traveler, Worrier, and Dreamer.
She, Being Me.

Happy National High Five Day. Don’t go crazy.

Happy National High Five Day. Don’t go crazy.

— 1 day ago with 3 notes
#liz lemon  #national high five day  #30 rock 
dancing.

you don’t want my charleston,
my waltz or my shimmy,
but you keep drowning me with
your jive.

— 3 days ago
#dancing  #poem  #poetry  #the happy writer  #shebeingme original  #writing 
Real Love…

…is a woman who takes care of her dying husband with a smile on her face, soothing him, cradling him, and dignifying him as he faces the hardest thing he’s ever had to endure.

…is a man who beckons his daughter to him and asks her to deliver the following message to his wife. “Tell your mother I love her.”

I used to wonder whether my parents loved each other. Except the blueprint I was holding up to compare with their relationship was celluloid love, the silly kind in movies that end too happily.

Real love is pain, cancer, stress, no money, four children, hospitals, bills, laughter, and dancing to “Red, Red Wine” in the living room with your wife and four young children. That’s love. Imperfect, beautiful, heartwrenching, and surprising.

If I can only but brush up against that kind of love, I will know what it all means. Until then, I’ve seen it.

— 2 weeks ago with 2 notes
#mom  #daddy  #love  #real love  #family 
Write what you know…

…because you know your life, what you see around you, and what you envision in your mind’s eye.

Write what you know…

…because you know your life, what you see around you, and what you envision in your mind’s eye.

— 2 weeks ago with 2 notes
#writing  #william faulkner  #writing quotes  #truth  #no boundaries  #the creative life  #the creative process 
dear heart…

all your
self-deprecation—
self-hateration—
self-repudiation—
self-assassination—
framed in humor,
vainly hiding your pain,
bashing and destroying your flame.

but he listens.
and he waits:
to pounce.
to paw.
to pillage.
to push.

because you’ve let him in,
this architect of your ruin.

and using his soft, “angelic” light,
he sends you your “knight.”

with his
“oh, love,
no need to deprecate—
no need to haterate—
no need to repudiate—
no need to assassinate—

you are loved, just as you are.
and i intend to give you the stars.

for i am truly all you need—
love, let me take the lead—
no more Halls or bountiful tables
from which to feed—
no more good news or good deeds—
love me, yes, and bleed.”

will it be too late?
to repeal the effects of this
self-hate?
of which he used to access
your gates?

but he merely self-congratulates,
and basks in this prime real estate,
these pretty houses with unguarded
gates.

(darlings, will you listen?
protect your gates; don’t let him in,
this architect of your ruin.)

— 1 month ago with 3 notes
#poem  #poetry  #shebeingme original  #reflecting 
allthingseurope:

Achterhoek, Netherlands (by raym☺nd)

Tree-lined pathways. Love.

allthingseurope:

Achterhoek, Netherlands (by raym☺nd)

Tree-lined pathways. Love.

— 1 month ago with 1895 notes