friendship pains

friendship
can be an ugly bird
squatting on a carcass
& laughing
at the people
we love.

this one doesn’t really make a lot of sense. i was angry with a friend who i felt was treating me callously.
i am terribly terribly anti-social. being my friend is not easy. i blame it on my scorpio rising. i just have a nasty sting when provoked.
so
this journal page happened because i felt slighted.

don’t even get me started on my across the street neighbor….

in other news…inappropriate comics with pandas!

i’m not sure about this one…i was thinking of the sound of music for some reason & pandas & well, this just kinda got away from me. i apologize. i think it is the most recent stay-at-home order making me extra inappropriate.

still feral

here i thought
i was one of you
those peace-loving
justice-seeking
liberals
here i thought
i was like
these people i see
everyday
but
it’s kinda like that time
i convinced myself i was
a morning person
only to find
so much relief
when i embraced the night….
now i look
examine
the path i have been
travelling
all along
the path where i call myself
an anarchist
the path where i find myself
attracted to the celtic goddess
morrigan
who is both life & death
birth & battle
growth & destruction
and
i remember again
my quest for
balance
my need to accept
that conflict is as much
a part of life
as peace
&
harmony
one cannot exist
without the other
it would be
unnatural.

tomorrow is election day in the united states. some people think things will magically get better after election day. i suspect another story will unfold. a less than desirable history in the questionable history of our country.

i am not a liberal.
i thought i was because they tell us we are either conservative or liberal. conservatives being the bad guys & liberals being the good guys. (though my parents told me it was the other way around)
right.
it’s a story like everything else about this country.
conservatives are like giant two year olds who want what they want, consequences be damned.
and liberals are like those three chimps: see no evil; speak no evil; hear no evil…. or ostriches with heads deep in the sand.

that’s my story, anyhow.
as i embrace my feral nature once more.
tomorrow i will vote third party as i (almost) always do in my efforts to push over the see-saw of politics in this country.
& i will hope for the best because
if things don’t change, things are going to change….

change is not death

“If you don’t release something voluntarily, it will cause you pain when it is snatched from you against your will.”

this card was driving me crazy because sometimes it feels like all i do is let things go.
what else can i let go of?
then i caught myself going to a dark
dark
place when i saw a friend’s loving post about his wife.
right? why should that cause me pain??
and that is when i realized what i needed to let go of
my fantasy that i had once had
true love
& had lost it through carelessness…
to stop being angry & depressed about losing something
that was never mine
to begin with.

i journaled about it over on my patreon page (more pages to come) & am trying to process it out.

i also have added a couple of more pages in my new series about being feral.

better late than never

when i was not even yet 20
i had written
three or four books
& working on the next one
plunking away
on an electric typewriter
sending off pages & pages
to publishers
& agents
getting back
an impressive collection of rejections
i knew i was going to be a famous
author
i knew it…
but life got in the way
& hope
dreams
years
lost
to
“but what are you really going to be?”
&
“shouldn’t you be looking for a job
with health insurance”
(punk rock little me
thinking
as long as i have planned parenthood
why do i need insurance?)
somehow
without looking
i am almost fifty
still punk rock
but not yet
nor
anytime soon
a famous
author
however!
soon
a published
author.

my collection of stories–some from those times when i was 20…some from an almost 50 (but still punk rock!!) mother of four…and all the time in between–my collection of short stories has been accepted by a small press in ohio.
a punk rock press, of course.

i should be excited…& i think i am…but maybe after so many years of being quietly unpublished, i am not sure how to make noise about being published….
give me a day or two.

meanwhile, i have started a new art journal series about my being feral. that is, decidedly not a domestic goddess. it is over on my patreon page along with my other art journal pages.

and happy earth day, y’all…but, remember, every day is earth day!!

call of the wild

not quite domesticated
not close really
at all
not fully wild
too much brain
asking questions
of my heart
i am decidedly feral
i can’t follow directions
i hate being caged
i bite
i fight
too much heart
telling my brain
just hush
not wild, not tame
i am
decidedly feral
i can’t
i won’t
follow rules
running away
from convention
my favorite song
is the one
my heart sings
& i listen
even when told
but those who tout what is
normal, thereby good
that i should not
especially
when told by those
who know best
that i should not
not
listen to
that heart song
but
it is my call of the wild
it is
my different drum
& it fills me
& drives me
feral.

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