Putz Putz Ponder

Finished an important script I'd been putzing around with (for almost a year) last night. It felt amazing to finally sit back and read it, knowing I've accomplished something toward a higher goal. I've got so many more things I want to write, things I need to write.

I need to go back over the script for 'Fearsome' and make some adjustments. Jeremy and I are looking to lengthen the book by a few pages and add in some 'fan art'. We'd like to hit 22 pages and make the book a full size instead of its original ashcan format.

There are so many outside stimuli that its difficult to concentrate on writing. I'll have to figure out how to diminish those. *ponders* But- the upside of this is that I've begun to figure out when the absolute best times to write in my home are. Sometime between midnight and 4am, when the children are quiet and a loud TV is an apartment complex no-no, I am at my scribbly best.

I found myself recently pining for the time when I wrote something for myself at least once a day. I had a journal that was on my person at all times and made sure that every semester of school included an English class. On a side note- this could be the very reason that enjoying math eluded me. In English, Social Studies, Science, etc- writing was permissible and even encouraged. In mathematics, if you weren't writing numbers you weren't paying attention and therefore punished. Ugh. I'm just not a numbers gal.

I'm trying to keep promises to myself, to include a time for personal reflection every day and to spend at least one hour daily working on necessary projects. And I mean daily, even with the flu or a bought of serious depression. I can't just keep throwing my hands up and walking away every time I'm remotely discouraged. Life isn't easy. There is no little bow tying everything up neatly. I need to bust my ass to work for that bow so that when my life finally reaches its culmination, I can be proud of the pretty parcel I'm leaving behind.

-Lisa

Thanksgiving

Weight stabilized at a place I'm not happy with. I have no idea what I'm doing, or at least I'm pretending not to. Less sugars and so much more water. Less rice and bread alternatives and more veg. More meat. Less fat filled meat. Organic? I don't necessarily have the money or patience. Less than $350 a month for groceries to feed a family of four doesn't leave much room for organic everything.

By early May of 2013 I want to be 165 lbs. I don't want to look back on one of the most important weddings in my life and wish I had represented myself better for the bride. I want my dear friend to look at her pictures in 30 years and think- "I was so happy! We were such a beautiful bridal party!" I don't want to sully the images by twiddling my thumbs unhappily in the background and wondering just how fat the camera will "make me" this time.

I have to make a plan. Just a simple plan. Easy to follow and easy to bounce back and forth on- because Lord knows I do a hell of a lot of fucking up. Hence the issue at hand *AHem*.

Thanksgiving tomorrow and I know I cannot avoid being "Glutened". I don't want to offend anyone and perhaps if this is so intensely the case I shouldn't have gone to all the trouble of baking gluten free pies. *rolls eyes at self* I just have to resign myself to the fact that tomorrow night will be spent in the shitter.

Whelp- here's to happy holidays.

-Lisa

Ice

Some days are more lonely than others. Like a wedge of ice between my heart and lung, the loneliness is a cold burn in my chest.

Can't help

You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved.
So many thoughts, so many different outcomes.
I feel as if I'm screaming at the movie screen and the lead actress walks up the stairs anyway.
My chest is heavy and my mouth is dry.
I feel as if I need to do more than I can.

I want a license to carry and a guilty conscience.

Raft

I'm floating on a makeshift raft in the middle of the ocean.
Nothing but blue for as far as the eye can see.
The sky meets the water and it melts into the horizon.

I'm hungry, I'm thirsty.
I'm alone ... and so scared.

I have no sail to catch the wind,
and only one oar ...
that I clutch so tightly my hands bleed.

I wake one morning, parched from the salted air.
There is a notion that today will be different.
Today I will change my fate.
I will not die like this.

Oar in hand, I paddle with every ounce of strength I possess.
The heat of the day wanes into night and still I fight.
I row until my eyes close without warning,
and I fall asleep- feeling stronger than ever before.

Morning comes and as I open my eyes,
my heart shatters.
Exhausted, no better than before- I find that nothing has changed.
Blue upon blue upon blue!
There is no island! No shoreline! No salvation!

I lay back and stare into the never ending sky.
Nothing changes.

-11/01/12