Let us examine the door. We know the basics. Handle or knob. Lock. Hinges. Maybe it has a window. Perhaps it has a small peephole of knocker. The face of a door can have panels. And mullions. That little bit at the bottom that theoretically keeps the dirt and bugs out is called a sweep. …
I’m an extrovert. A socially anxious, obsessive compulsive, slightly neurotic, extrovert. I know being introverted is all the rage these days. But I’m doomed to be, as usual, on the wrong side. I love people and can be around them all day if they’d let me. I’m aware that at least three-quarters of my friends …
Day 3 is always throttle day. Had a slow start and punched out little yesterday and now scrapping the whole endeavor and starting over which means I need to somehow bang out close to 6k today *scoffs* She decided to ignore him for both their sakes. He was overwhelmed by her and pushing her away. …
one word right after the other. That’s all it takes. To make one hundred. Maybe it’s the way the fall leaves rustle across the fresh asphalt and the smell of them mingles with machine oil and together that make an indelible memory of fall that roots in my brain like the smell of grass and …
Persecution: to harass or punish in a manner designed to injure, grieve, or afflict; specifically :to cause to suffer because of belief. See. I get it. You feel harassed. You feel punished. You’re grieved. You are being made to suffer because of your beliefs. Or are you? If I disagree with you, am I making …
or whatever. I’ve decided anxiety is like living with a bear. Sometimes the bear sleeps. Sometimes something pokes the beast and it wakes up and sits on your chest because it can. You can feed it. But it’ll still be hungry again in an hour. It might hibernate, but it’s gonna come out of that …
til nano Save yourself. http://nanowrimo.org What’s the worst that could happen?
These last few days have exhausted me. No real reason other than too much to do, too little time. So I’m hunkering mentally until Sunday. Keeping my words in until then.
I will never tell her she needs to change. Or brush her hair to be pretty. Or that people won’t like her if she looks, acts or dresses a certain way. I will not do these things. And if I do, in a moment of frustration, make her feel like she should be different or …
Bountiful Words, Beautiful World 