Category: Soul Journal

Hate on me… i lied

What am i doing here this morning? Did i not say i was gone from WP? Well a thought entered my head after reading a post in a closed group i belong to on FB… and decided to share here as well. So, what is the group? Survivors of Suicide. A group i did not…

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Home

Home is always where i am at the moment. Then back to a routine. Wake up (no more early, summer-shiny mornings here in Massachusetts) make the coffee, pick up my pen and paper, drink three cups of that caffeine and sugary cream… it feels like a new beginning today. Everyday is technically a new beginning.…

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personal musings unleashed…

I see far too many people who are not thinking… and well i have to turn away and protect my thoughts. composting logic reality forced anger paths burdened with tears My religious views are Work-in-Progress and my political views are Independent. I am a free thinker who will listen and either agree or disagree with…

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Drum Circle

A new experience presented itself within a community to celebrate positive energy. This was most of the group’s first time being together. The hour started with rhythmic drum beats mimicking the heart’s life force. There were 15 of us, each with a drum and another percussion instrument. This video is the third of four sets,…

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It is as if…

Where to start? It is as if my life is being lived in one day… with no way to slow down. Juggling between need-to-do and want-to-do and compromising. All this beauty is descending upon my head in rocket speed… the town i have moved to is bursting at the seems with poetry and dance. Harvard…

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personal musings unleashed

We really do not know each other, do we? Years were spent cultivating all these hateful thoughts. Up until today, all that is wrong with life, seemed to be my fault. I easily accepted blame and never fought the day my mom banished me from their life. I was not the daughter she wanted and…

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Book Review: And Other Things

Hey! Bought your book… perhaps i should do a book review? My first impression, because poetry books are more than words to me… because i desire a vision… and while i witness your book, i first notice the layout of the page. Anyhow…. And i was given permission. Because i asked. Hell, i could just…

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Tread carefully…

One day. Twenty-four hours. I turned from wanting to interact with others to bonafide afraid for my life. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. Stinging nettles in my eyes. I can barely see to type… Be wary of strangers. What you reveal in the throes of intensity. A passionate heart reels you in. Anger and…

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