I charge into battle,
head held high,
armed with neither knives nor guns.
My ammunition carries no physical weight.
The only weapon I use to defend myself will not extinguish a life.
My battles are fought with words.
The only dagger I possess is my sharp tongue.
My army is my vocabulary,
my stealth is the thesaurus in my brain.
My mind is the only weapon that doesn’t need a holster.
My elders warned me – ‘life moves at a million miles an hour’.
When you are young and full of disdain for authority, you make up your own rules, you choose to believe what you want to believe. So I kept pace, moving along at that million miles an hour.
Who knew I would crash into my future self at such a young age? Who could have predicted my youth would come to such a screeching halt?
All I can do now is sort through the wreckage and try to put the pieces of the carnage of my life back together.
~~
Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. This week’s song is Crash by The Primitives. Go check out the fun challenge and join in!!
Time slows.
The air is chilled.
My breath lingers as vapor
and I feel you near.
Neither tick nor tock
echo in the hallway.
Hands are frozen and each clock, like you,
is suspended between life and death.
Which light is stronger?
~~
Written for the Gargleblaster at YeahWrite.
This week’s ultimate question was suggested by Erica M, and comes from Alice Munro’s short story A Real Life.
Have all your clocks stopped?
Give us your answer in 42 words. You don’t need to include the question in your response, but make sure your answer stands alone. What do we mean? Write down the question. Write down your response. Now cover the question with your hand and read your answer out loud. Does it still make sense when you don’t know the question? That’s what we’re looking for. Be creative, and remember: no family allowed!
I have been thinking about my mom a lot over the last week. Every time something happens or I hear something I think she would enjoy, I reach for the phone forgetting she won’t be there to answer. She was a big part of my day-to-day life. We were very close and talked on the phone at least once a day. Having that routine so abruptly altered is taking a great deal of adjustment and an overwhelming amount of tears.
During our lifetime, my mother had done many things for my brother and I without ever second guessing her motivation. She was a mother first and everything else came second. She would constantly put our needs ahead of her own. She consoled us, cried for us and cried with us, she gave us every tool possible to become the strong, independent people we are today.
Up to her last breath she followed that mantra. Although my mom had been sick for quite a while, the week leading up to her passing was one of her best in a long time. She was feeling “fine”, physically better than she had in months and her spirit was completely lifted. I have heard from many who have had a similar experience with their loved one – they seemed to rally back before their passing and it gave those around them that comfort of remembering their departed loved ones with more joy than sadness.
Her last selfless act as a mother was to leave us with memories of her being happy and not being sick. The last day I spent with her was just like hanging out with her 20 years ago. Her sense of humor was quick and twisted, and she had that spark in her eye that I remember so well.
I dream of her often and see her in little signs that she leaves in random things. We miss you, mom, and hope you are enjoying those Angel wings. You certainly deserve them. xo
Like a charcoal sketch,
I see myself outlined his eyes,
I see my silhouette as he sees me.
So vastly different
from my reflection in the mirror.
But I follow deep into the abyss,
into the portrait he has created of me.
I follow those lines,
to try to see what he sees.
In my mind I trace the outline
following each stroke of the pencil.
And I journey
as deep as I can go,
swimming in his reality of me,
truly understanding how he sees me.
I may have changed a few lines,
but to him I am perfection.
~~
Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog. This week’s song is Deep As You Go, by October Project.
Go and check it out if you haven’t been there!!
Every day I wake,
the inner dialogue begins.
A taunt here, a few bad words there,
the cycle continues.
You asked me,
why are you fighting?
For me it is simple,
I continue to fight
until I feel like I’m good enough.
~~
Written for the Gargleblaster – this week was an interesting task and, sadly, it took me back to my teenage years.
This week we’re paying tribute to Gabriel García Márquez, who was (in our humble opinion) one of the greatest writers of the last century. This week’s ultimate question comes to us from One Hundred Years of Solitude:
“Tell me something, old friend: why are you fighting?”
I consider myself to be an extremely lucky person. I am fortunate enough to call many people friends and have them reciprocate that sentiment. There was a saying I remember hearing as a teenager that really stuck with me – “Friends are the family you choose for yourself”.
(image credit: planet–earth.ca)
My friends are scattered far and wide. Some I get to spend many hours with and share philosophies and laughter and others are located in other cities, provinces and countries, even continents. Some I have never met face to face. We also share the same ideals and sense of camaraderie but we do it through cyber space and across the blogosphere.
There are no lines of latitude or longitude that can divide a friendship. Those relationships can span time and distance and there is great comfort knowing that the strength in those friendships gives us the ability to pick up where we left off even after months of being apart.
I have received an overwhelming amount of support from all of my friends, near and far. Whether they are known in my physical reality or in my cyber reality, the strength and encouragement I have been given has been monumental to getting me through a very trying time.
I wanted to say thank you to all of my friends for really being there for me and sending your words of love and optimism. Although by kilometers and miles we may seem worlds apart, your words bring you close and keep you in my heart.
(image credit: photo.net)
We are an eclectic band of misfits. Each branch of my family tree is twisted and unique. But life in my forest has been full of adventure and laughter. From the moment our family tree took root it was nourished by humor, surrounded by love and encouraged to branch out in any direction it was drawn towards.
The apples that fall from that tree do not stray far and we enjoy the camaraderie that only like-minded semi-delusional people can share. We are nuts but we are family.
I had recently told a tale, based solely in fact, about how my brother tricked me into eating a petrified piece of dog excrement when I was only five years old. Although I was traumatized as a child, I can now see the humor in the “incident”. Perhaps that humor comes with the foreshadowing of future revenge but we are family and it is divine to forgive. (nobody said anything about forget)
It is my brother’s birthday today. I awoke thinking of this day as his pilgrimage into his 50th year. The common lines of the happy birthday song didn’t seem to do justice to our relationship and this new version flooded my brain at 7:00 am.
Happy birthday to you,
Happy birthday to you.
You’re one terrific brother,
but you made me eat poo.
I can only hope he finds as much humor and enjoyment in our gnarled family tree as I do. From root to tip we are certainly an odd bunch, but I wouldn’t want to hang from any other tree!
Happy birthday Jamie!! Love you. xx
As the sun sparkled on the water her paddle dipped purposefully into the lake. With the skill of an avid enthusiast, her J-stroke carried her closer to her destination.
She could see smoke billowing from the chimney atop his cottage as she pictured his frame curled up in his chair, book in one hand and glass of wine in the other. The sun continued its descent into the horizon and the hues speckling the water deepened in their intensity.
She could no longer pretend that her feelings hadn’t changed and he needed to know she was in love with him.
~~
(image credit: cottagelife.com)
Written for the 100 Word Challenge at Julia’s Place.
I’ve been to the seaside for the week-end. Divine! So, your prompt this week is:
… as the sun sparkled on the water…
Please make sure you only use 100 words and put a link back to this post so that others can find us! If you are not sure what all this nonsense is about, do read ‘What is 100WCGU?’
The link will close on Sunday 20th April.
I don’t see her the way I used to,
but every so often she is a shape in the clouds,
she is two leaves forming a pattern
or she is the warm air that lulls me into sleep.
Gone, but not forgotten.
~~
This is my first submission for the Gargleblaster challenge.
Is everyone recovered from last week’s gargleblaster binge? Fabulous! Take a deep breath and get ready for the next round. This week’s ultimate question was provided by yeah write editor Michelle, who found it on page 42 of Broken Magic by author and yeah write alum Eric Sipple:
Do you see her much?
Let’s see how you answer this question in 42 words. Be creative!
polysyllabic profundities 