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Ineffable Vignettes, 100 Carson Drive #1672, Los Lunas, NM (2026)

04/26/2024

I never have been one to find words smoothly when they matter to me. My best efforts seldom mattered when I tried. There were times I've been beaten - from my knees - for daring to raise my eyes and speak... with the speaker in the nighttime summer breeze on the open windowsill turned up to muffle the sounds.

The second speaker, just as loud, placed against the airgap under the locked master bedroom door, so my kids in the next two rooms wouldn't hear the impacts of bruises laid with that much intent.

Intent.
For speaking.
For raising my eyes from my upturned palms on my knees.

Now a few years later, these words of mine, they're more of a scattered 2am thing, carefully gathered in the dark, than they are functional real-life conversation.

I free my words sometimes. Unfettered, because with acknowledgment of unspoken things never whimpered in the dark - they lose their grasp of shame over me when slammed out in black and white out loud.

There's no shame left in things no longer borne in silence. Maybe today, you needed to hear that too.

-Frequency

07/19/2023

One day at a time I'm gathering the shards of my life back together. I can almost begin to see it - like the first sign of a dawn you're waiting for, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗾𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘆𝗲𝘁, 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸.

🎧 Clint Eastwood - Gorillaz

04/12/2023

𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻, 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘇𝗲𝗻𝗹𝘆, 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸.
One can only fully appreciate what one can clearly see.

𝗜 𝗮𝗺 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁, 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝘀. The friends who have strolled through my life, taken all I had to freely give, and sauntered on without looking back. What an odd duck of a thing to be grateful for... friends who have been less than - "𝙒𝙝𝙮?", 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝘀𝗸.

Because those friends like that have shown me a void, deeply defined, where the few true friends I am truly blessed to be able to count on one hand, SHINE - like brightness only can, brazenly, within the dark.

𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻, 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘇𝗲𝗻𝗹𝘆, 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸.
One can only fully appreciate what one can clearly see.

It's easy to see a plethora of friends surrounding you in the light, but 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝘄 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗯𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲. 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀, 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘂𝗽 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝘀, 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗱𝗴𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗲𝘆𝘀 𝗯𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴𝗼𝗮𝗹𝘀. 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 - 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝘂𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘁, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱, 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗽𝘂𝗹𝗹 𝗽𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝗹𝗺 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗳𝘁 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵. 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗷𝗼𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝘂𝗽, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗺𝗲𝗱. 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄𝘀 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗺𝗶𝗹𝗲 - 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗴𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗱, 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗱. 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗽𝗶𝗲𝗰𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳, 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗰𝗸𝘀, 𝘁𝗼 𝗿𝗲𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗹𝗲𝗱. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗮𝘆, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹. 𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝘆. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝘆, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹.

𝗠𝗮𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗯𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗳-𝗮-𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘀 𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘇𝗲𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗮𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲.

🎧 I'll Be There - Walk Off The Earth

04/05/2023

It flares up the worst, my rage, when I'm afraid I'm not going to be enough to protect my kids. Not going to BE enough, for them. Like gas on a smoldering fire.

I check back that rage so they don't see it, bottled and seething, and think to myself:

"𝗪𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 *𝗜* 𝗱𝗼?", instead.

𝗔𝘀 𝗶𝗳 "𝗜" 𝗮𝗺 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻...
.. 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗜 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗯𝗲, 𝗶𝗳 𝗶𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗻'𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝗳𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲𝗻.

Today, I realized, I *am* real, to the people who matter in my life. To my littles, to my friends. Cracked as I may be, in this shell I maintain... I - exactly as I am here and now - am real. To (or maybe because of) the people who matter most in my life.

I wonder if you can see the sense in those words even though I can't find better for what's on my tired mind.

After unexpectedly ending up in a situation where I was truly worried for my ability to bring my kids out of it safely if it escalated sideways, I was still simmering when I sat down to the table for dinner ... and halfway through the laughing fun meal conversation flowing around me I realized they were safe, content, NOT WORRIED, happy even, because cracks and all, I'd been enough. Even as I worried I'd fail. In their minds I was never less than enough.

𝗜. 𝗪𝗮𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹. 𝗔𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹.

Every broken moment we make more. Is real.

11/21/2022

𝗤𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗱𝗶𝘁𝘆! 💥 See, the beautiful thing about losing everything is finding yourself. When you do, you start to like that person. You start to like BEING that person. You decide not to settle for less than that, ever, again.

Because being less than that, is being less than YOU.

Less than you, isn't worth the sacrifice - for anyone.

Anyone who can't love you, fiercely, FOR WHO YOU ARE, is never going to be anything but an anchorstone around your neck.

And anyone who truly loves YOU, cares about YOU ... is going to love you for every bit of the uniquely dented and faceted shine that is individually yourself.

GO. BE. UNABASHEDLY. BRILLIANTLY. YOU!

-Frequency
🎧 SOLVE COAGULA - Marilyn Manson

11/19/2022

𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗮 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁. 𝗔𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗶𝘁.

You've accepted the decision to cut your insurmountable losses, and finally, you see the light at the end of your tunnel... but instead of freedom to spread your wings, you're inexplicably down.

There's the fact that each step right now toward the freedom you've been yearning for is torn from everything you've fought and sacrificed to build. Not only your house - also your relationship, your love, your plans for your future, the potential of what should have been.

Everything... in fact, that you perceive as your life that you’ve built. Sucking mud holding you back at every step that you're trying to scrape off your boots.

𝗜𝘁 𝗶𝘀𝗻'𝘁 𝘁𝗿𝘂𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗼𝗳 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗼𝗺, 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗽 𝗯𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗦. 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝘀𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 (𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗻’𝘁 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗴𝗼 𝗼𝗳) 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗮 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗲𝗽 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗰 𝗼𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗹.

Of course you want to cry.
-Cry, my friend.

Of course you need a hug.
-I have the fiercest of them all, waiting, to enfold you within.

Of course you see less-than, everywhere you turn. Because it IS.

Less than what you've built - that's crumbling around your ears.

Less than what is fair.

Less than what you deserve - slammed in the worn face of everything you've sacrificed.

𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗴𝗼 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝘃𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱.

Not your partner. Not any longer.
Not your life. Not any more.

Not pulling punches. Not from a friend.

𝗡𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗹𝗮𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗮𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗲, 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱, 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗯𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗻.

Every step forward right now is a step torn from the failed reality you are walking away from.

A step sucked from the bog you are walking free from.

What are you mourning my friend? Not what *IS*, but the potential of what it should have been.

Not your partner who is no longer - but the shadow of the soulmate who should have been stoic by your side through every storm.
Not the dusty confines of your house that ties you down - but the home that should have been your castle. The ever-present invitation of a warmth crackling from the hearth, walls built solid with the comfort of stability around you. Your shelter from life's tumultous winds.
Not your rutted tire-spinning existance . . . but the lurch of the turn from it into uncharted waters that leaves you without the balance of familiar ground under your feet.

𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗶𝘀, 𝗻𝗼𝘁.

And you're facing it alone.
Alone is Stark indeed. But it is within that darkness you will begin to find your own light shining again. Your spark, even dim as it is, will shine brightest in the dark - I can't wait to see you find your own feet under yourself and shine again.

Stop looking back at what is not, and look forward. 𝗧𝗼𝘀𝘀 𝗮 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗵 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝗮𝗹𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗮𝘀𝘁. 𝗟𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝘆. In front of you lies your future. Potential. Moments stretching into days melding into the rest of your life. Every one passing within your grasp to twist into something more than you've settled for - make it yours.

You will rise my friend. Stronger, from the ashes of your past. But first comes the burning.

Damn auto-correct.

What I really meant to say is I want to hug you so fiercely right now as to say all of that without needing a word.

𝗜 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂.

11/06/2022

My words, freed - whether scratched from a whisper, or screamed across the paper with slamming bloody keystrokes - are a healing balm of acknowledgment soothed over a harsh reality long muffled in suffocating silence.

𝗜 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗮𝗯𝗮𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹. 𝗕𝗲𝗰𝗮𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲, 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲, 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁, 𝗶𝗻 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲.

The unspoken is often what brings me to my knees.

𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲, 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱, 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗰𝗵𝗼 𝗼𝗳 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲.

As clearly as looking through a windowpane sprinkled with unshed tears, across the empty miles the width of a breath between us...

𝗜 𝗦𝗲𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂.
𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝘆, 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼.

-Frequency

!

🎧 Words as Weapons - Seether
"All I really want is something beautiful to say..."

11/03/2022

𝗗𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹. If you reading this need to hear this right now – these words are shared for you tonight. Three years ago, 𝗜 𝗙𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗘𝗗… 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗻 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗜 𝗦𝗨𝗖𝗖𝗘𝗘𝗗𝗘𝗗*.

𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡.
Life, is t w i s t e d like that, at times.

I FAILED to be “enough” of a wife for my husband to remain part of our family – and cruely torqued within in the same crushing moment of admittance - I SUCCEEDED in finding my own feet and being enough of a woman to not remain trapped within a brutal cycle.

I am mine.
𝗜 𝗔𝗠. 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘.
before I will ever again be anyone else’s

I FAILED at holding together a whole family for my children. In doing so, I SUCCEEDED at providing a safe family and home for them to thrive within.

I FAILED to hold together the marriage I had fought for, bled for, sacrificed for, often submissively from my knees, for 17 years.
Yet, I SUCCEEDED in keeping my children safe. I FAILED to take enough of a/(yet another) beating to prove my love worthy of his, yet twisted within not being meek enough to be beaten down to someone else’s expectations, I SUCCEEDED in discovering an even greater love for MYSELF.

I am worth that self-love.
I deserve that self-respect.
(i still, to this day, struggle to capture those words into reality)

𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗧𝗢𝗢.
𝗜 𝗦𝗲𝗲 𝗬𝗼𝘂.

I FAILED to properly/submissively de-escalate. I FAILED to accept the blame. I FAILED to remain standing while my lungs gasped for air. While from the midst of it all, I SUCEEDED in finding a safe way out – blows bruising my body – words lashing bloody streams around me – staring down a loaded gun in my face – climbing to my feet, yet again – recorded proof to counter-balance his lies held in my hand … – the very existence of my reality I had fought to maintain, crashing down in shards around me as the police rolled in for the man I loved.

Accepting your failing, as not failing - it ain't no peaceful easy feeling.

Relief tastes an awful lot like a bloody nose clotting down the back of your throat sometimes, gagging, stomach heaving and churning through your mind’s refusal to accept the peace it promises borne on the bloody hell of it's coming.

Reality so brutally sharp I couldn’t even feel the rocks under feet as I stumbled out, barefoot, down my driveway with my dog… crushing under the savage shame of the culmination of all my failings.

I SUCCEEDED at coming out with the things that mattered most to me.
My children, already send away safe. And my dog, by my side.

𝗠𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳. Still alive. Still Breathing.

I FAILED to be worth fighting for. I FAILED to be enough to be loved. I FAILED as a Wife, as a Mother, as a person of any value. Cloaked within those blinding FAILURES … I SUCCEEDED in realizing I was far more than everything I had been beaten into believing I was not.

𝗗𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲 𝗮𝗳𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹, 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱. 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗮 𝗳𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘀𝗼 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗼𝗿. Yet those who fight the hardest, we don’t tap out until we haven’t a breath left to draw into our lungs or a drop left to be bled out of our still somehow beating hearts.

I sat down to write encouraging words through tonight’s darkness. *Encouragement* to share. Yet what brightness are meaningless words to someone in the dark fog murky enough the light can’t be seen? So tonight, my kindness is torqued through with stark bloody reality. One can always recognize the blood, even in the absence of hope. Tonight, my friend, slashed through my encouraging words above … Tell me, how many of my FAILURES did you see as actually failing, when you read them? Here’s reality – that you can see from outside, BUT I COULD NOT EVEN GLIMPSE FROM WITH IT. While not one of my “failures” is actually even deserving of being credited the use of the word, every one of them was ruthlessly seared into my reality like a scarlet letter branded on my face, at the time.

F.

F.

F. F. F. FAIL. FAIL. FAIL.

So here’s my kindness tonight, friend. Smoldering from my own twisted reality. Just as you can’t see your failures, as anything but failing, for the muck you’re currently within… I offer you these words. Don’t be afraid to fail, within the acceptance of failure is where you’ll find your successes and well deserved freedom. So gag over that, like a bloody nose clotting down the back of your throat. I know you will. But, you know I’m right, the same as you know you’re right in not seeing my above “failures” as failures at all.

I’m almost tempted to judge this barrage of hellish words loosed above a failure to my intent. They twisted down a far different path than intended when I sat down to write them. 𝙔𝙀𝙏 … 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙤 𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙣𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙄 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧, 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙄’𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙪𝙘𝙘𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙚𝙙.

𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝗷𝘂𝗱𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗲𝗱.

10/28/2022

We push through life striving for what lies ahead. Yet, what is life, truly, but navigating a series of endings, left behind?

Sometimes endings look like hurricanes - rage and terror screaming fury into the wind-whipped saltwater flowing down your face - spewing a wake of decimation in its path. Lives broken, permanence ravaged, shards of shattered dreams, amongst crumbled pilars of hope, across foundations in ruin.
Onlookers in the street peering in the broken windows, crowding around the shingles and debris, palms open in supplication for mercy, for peace.
A murmured whisper matches your own -

What just happened?
What in the hell just happened?

Sometimes endings feel like hammering piano notes - sweaty hands slamming down with crashing intensity - your unfeeling fingers, bruised and numb, smashing over, and over. And over and over again on the ivory keys. Abusing the notes, unrestrained impacts flogging beauty into bloody cacophony, uncaring of the clashing flats and sharps and the disonence of it sort of feels

bloody

sharp

too.

Sometimes endings drag with the jarring sound of a chair being scraped back across a wooden floor. An abrupt exit from a full table dropped into silence. A push back and a sudden rush of air into the displaced space. A grinding crunch to the ears of the people still holding laden forks from a feast no longer meant for you. It felt right when you slipped in and bowed your head in prayer, but when you raised your head back up - who were the humans looking right back past you?

Sometimes endings happen silently. You’re standing in your bedroom with the suffocating burden of familiar obligation hanging around your neck - freely offered - it never was seen, never was accepted from your extended hands, and its weight is always choking you. Dark uncaring eyes staring at you with the bathroom light shining behind them, and the floor between you is cold from the lack of heat. You stare at each other, then you drop your eyes. Strangers would be so lucky.

How did you get here?
How did you, wind up here?
How do you always end up here?

Sometimes endings are as quiet as a still breeze rustling through baren branches stripped of their bright offerings by the cold harshness of a season passed. The quiet crumbles of decay. Slow blinks. Breaths in through your nose. Out through the tightness of your clenched jaw. In through your nose. Out. Again. An empty house, no longer a home. A starkly barren room. An empty heart, no longer beating for a purpose. Relentlessly pumping, tu tump, tu tump, tu tump, tu tump. A cold pillow under a chilly blanket carelessly tossed over an empty bed covering the demons that only venture out when the sun relinquishes its brightness to the night creeping in. Quietly, they come creeping in on the darkness.

And other times?

Other times, endings feel like an echoing hallelujah on fallen knees. A building chorus that has been churning, churning, churning, in your chest for forever, and you raise your hands up to the sky just like you learned to do in church when you were ten, twelve, twenty. It feels glorious, like a deep breath, it feels like a relief, it feels like the last quiet words in a hymn - the ones that signal to the congregation that it's time to shuffle back out into the aisles - as the tears pour down your face -

washed clean.
washed clean.
washed clean.

Sometimes endings finally wash you clean.

10/13/2022

My day ... is adrift...I got this. I don't really, but I fake it like I do, and I shove myself through, because that's how I do it. I'm broken to sobbing tears again.

Im trying to be better, seeing a therapist. She is kind. She works me like I would a pup - circles and doesn't push too hard too fast, in fact backs me away from upset with off topic conversation and distraction. (Even as I recognize what she's doing, so clearly), I respect her experience and skill.

But, this is me. When I make the desision to do something, I don't like being coddled, in this case it takes my coping skills from me. I've learned my own way of coping and survival, without someone to ease me through it. It's face on and hard. Balls to the wall. Direct. Done. She gives me nothing to raise angst against, but it leaves me without the anger at my back to stand down the overwhelming pain.

I'm left broken. I walk out adrift, momentarily uncomfortably peaceful. Knowing I'm floating on smooth surface tension, circling over a whirlpool opening up beneath me about to suck me under. Then it breaks. I break. Like you'd split a chicken prepping for dinner - splits my chest apart with nothing but searing overwhelming tears streaming pain.

I don't deal with this. I don't know how. I never have. I suppress it. I corner it and I control it. I override it. I deny it. Because I know better - I don't deal with it because it's like cracking a dam. All or 142% ... and I'm overwhelmed flooding. Tapped out, shutdown, without anything left to give. Whether I want sleep or not, it's about to take me as my brain flips the breaker switch.

09/19/2022

I have kleptomania, but when it gets bad, I take something for it. I'm serious. It was a joke.
-Frequency 🎧 Why So Serious- Alice Merton
?

09/17/2022

Failing. Overwhelmed. Long unacknowledged rage that flares through jagged chasms. Jarring dissonance between the moments I can cope - busy smoothed over the turmoil - and the blindsides that become purely overwhelming. Staggering disconnect that follows. Blinding cacophony of noise within the silence. Failing. Failing at level that drops me to tears.

🎧 Skin and Bones - Cage The Elephant

Ineffable Vignettes

04/26/2024

07/19/2023

04/12/2023

04/05/2023

11/21/2022

11/19/2022

11/06/2022

11/03/2022

10/28/2022

10/13/2022

09/19/2022

09/17/2022

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