Well, let’s see:
- A finished novel
- A cruise to the Caribbean in March
- Hamlet, London, September (8 Days of Fun – I hope I don’t get deported. Tee hee!)
- More learning
- More loving
- More sharing
- More patience
- Family, friends, fun, freedom
Well, let’s see:
…apply it in 2015.
Fear is the path to the dark side…fear leads to anger…anger leads to hate…hate leads to suffering.
Try Not. Do. Or do not. There is no try.
Always pass on what you have learned.
Many of the truths that we cling to depend on our point of view.
Yoda….kicking knowledge across galaxies and time.
Wow. The year’s passed so fast. I’ve learned so much about myself and others. I’ve regained my confidence to write and now I’m circling the midpoint of my novel. Last year, I kept talking about writing. Talking. Talking. Talking. 2014 saw me doing, and I’m proud of myself. In 2015, I will continue, continue, continue. Also, my children kept growing and expanding their minds, forcing me to keep up with a smile on my face and wonder in my eyes. In 2015, this will continue. 2014 saw my husband strive for his dreams and in 2015, the goal will be closer.
Favorite Thing about 2014: Returning to the writing life
Least Favorite Thing: The continuing plague of human hatred circumnavigating our waters. Enough already! Get it together, People!
So, in my robe, I wish all a Happy New Year! Don’t drink and drive. In fact, stay home, watch the Twilight Zone marathon (with me), and snack on some chips and shrimp. Tasty plans!!
Peace,
Kashmirgirl
Wow. I cannot believe how lame I’ve been. I haven’t posted a blog entry in months. How can I desert (even temporarily) one of my creative outlets so blatantly? Forgive me, blog. I knew not what I did. Anyway, I’m sick and I’m spending the penultimate day of 2014 in bed. Most likely, tomorrow I’ll be doing the same (New Year’s Eve 2014). No worries. I’ll just watch a marathon of whatever’s on and flip back and forth to another year’s respective show until the ball drops as well as kiss my husband and kids and snore the rest of the night away.
Thankfully, my heater’s up and running again as it’s cold now (Well, California cold. I’ve grown acclimated to it after eleven years; so, yeah, it’s cold.) I’ll write a respective of 2014 tomorrow. It’s only fitting and on New Year’s Day, I’ll write my plans, goals, and wishes for the new year.
Peace,
Kashmirgirl1976
Check it out, alongside other good work at eastjasminereview.com. Grab a copy and support literature!
Bear with me. It’s been eighteen days since my last post. But, Fall is on the horizon (For Southern CA, that means late October-Early November. Ugh!)
Peace and love
Warning’ by Langston Hughes
“Negroes,
Sweet and docile,
Meek, humble, and kind:
Beware the day
They change their mind.””
Never get comfortable with what happens next door. It doesn’t take much for things to show at your front yard. Be safe and love one another, or else we fall together.
Since yesterday, I’ve read countless self-appointed experts tell me and others how to speak up when your depression hits you or how to see the light at the end of the tunnel when it strikes. They’ve sung louder than those, like me, living with it. Have we not said our peace each day, only to have them ignore us or treat us like porcelain dolls without emotions?
Yes, speak to someone. Just make sure they don’t tell you that your emotions is the “sickness” talking, discounting the fact that you are still entitled to feelings. If I’m angry, it’s not necessarily the mania or depression. I’m probably pissed off from the patronizing you’re dishing out. If I’m sad, it’s not necessarily my disorder. Perhaps, I saw a sad movie or listened to a sad song and don’t feel like sharing why I’m crying.
But, on the other hand, when we need your help, your support, just be there. Don’t pretend to know more about our illness than we do, or retort psychobabble we’ve endured before. Just listen. Just listen.
Chasing melancholy
is a habit of mine
like a sailor to the sea
or a wino to his wine
I know not
why we’re a pair
Hadn’t given it much thought really
It’s neither here nor there
It wraps me in warm cashmere
outside in the cold
snatching it back
cruel, yet bold
Knowing I seek its shelter
throwing me around
Forbidding a sense of closure
or solid ground
The sadness will saunter away
breaking free
and yet I’ll chase again
chaining my destiny
©2014, Latanya M. Ivey