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Olēka

Olēka: The Awareness of How Few Days Are Memorable

Our lives are built of the same few notes, repeated over and over. It’s not a grand symphony, full of surprises. It’s a song sung in canon, that simply carries on, until the tune gets stuck in your head. But then the verse changes over, and for the life of you, you can’t remember how it’s supposed to go.

http://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/108103733320/our-lives-are-built-of-the-same-few-notes

Adjust your sails… Was about ME

https://theschizoeffect.com/2014/01/09/the-most-terrifying-feeling/

See post from Sept 1, 2014 above…
I feel so insignificant, used, and betrayed 😥

Loyal even tho he has faltered

Some say loyalty inspires boundless hope. And while that may be, there is a catch. True loyalty takes years to build and only seconds to destroy.  always question where your loyalties lie. The people you trust will expect it. Your greatest enemies will desire it. And those you treasure the most will, without fail, abuse it.

“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme, and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what’s going to happen next.”

― Gilda Rander

More on Me

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The heart
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The head
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The hunger
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The destroyed

April Fool’s installment (#4)of Ways to amuse yourself…

Installment #4 of Ways to amuse
yourself…
at the expense of
others.

1. Set alarms for random times
2. Publicly investigate just how slowly you can make a “croaking”
noise.
3. Change channels five minutes before the end of every show.
4. Decline to be seated at a restaurant, and simply eat their
complimentary mints by the
cash register.
5. Buy a large quantity of orange traffic cones and reroute entire neighborhood streets.

Writing 201: … (a hero ballad)

Writing 201: (a hero ballad)
It’s the fog.
Waiting for a ray of light to break thru for Even a moment
But it doesn’t come
It never comes
I just miss you
Every second
Of every moment 
Of every hour
Every day
I just miss you
It’s the fog
Continue reading “Writing 201: … (a hero ballad)”

The Invitation {Poetry Potluck}

http://wp.me/p346IW-uh

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know 
if you will risk 
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn’t interest me
what planets are 
squaring your moon…
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.
I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.
I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you 
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.
It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.
I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”
It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.
It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.
It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know 
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.
I want to know
if you can be alone 
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

Oriah Mountain Dreamer

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writing 101: Poetry Potluck

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