Monthly Archives: Dec 2016
Finally, I can accept this award. My comma, on my keyboard, stopped working yesterday! Yes, I couldn’t pause, I couldn’t breathe!
Today being the last day of 2016. oh yeah! I would like to thank the lovely -B.G @ Getting Through Anxiety for this mysterious award. I’ve secretly been wanting it for a long time. mwahaha (evil laughter)
I will nominate 20 blogs who I think need be seen more and if they are AWARD FREE, I still believe in these blogs and what they have to say.
IF YOU CHOOSE TO ACCEPT ZEE- RULES ARE THUS:
Display your chosen award logo/image on your blog- (google images are a great place to find one to suit your style)
List the rules
Thank the blogger who nominated you and provide a link to the nominator’s blog
Mention the creator of the award and provide a link as well – OKOTO ENIGMA’S BLOG …Because life is all about learning new things and having fun
Tell your readers 3 things about yourself
Answer 5 questions from the nominator (me)
Nominate 10 – 20 people
Notify your nominees by leaving the nomination link in the “comment” of their blog
Ask your nominees any 5 questions of your choice, with one weird or funny question (specify)
Share the link(s) to your best post(s)
THREE THINGS ABOUT ME
I am all heart but I can stick up for myself and I am no pushover. 😀
I doubt myself constantly but I never give up
I woke up to this song in my head
Have you had a crush on your teacher as a teenager?
Mmmh.. I’d be lying if I say no. I vaguely remember a male teacher when I probably not even 12 years old; yet, I can’t remember what he taught or his name or even what school I was at but, I do remember feelings stir inside me. Obviously very short-lived and not memorable enough to go into detail. 😀
If you had the power to change one thing in your past, what would that be?
I would wear my glasses or beg for my family to get me fitted for contact lenses so, I could actually see the world I was living in and see people’s expressions, learn to lip read, watch nonverbal communication, not be so internalized and complexed by my imagined ideas of how I thought others felt about me.
Which country is your next dream vacation, and what made you want to go there?
Really? cheating here. I need to go to Italy and Greece. I’m obsessed with Western mythology. I really want to travel all over the East. I imagine when I visit India, I will wake super early so I can get to the Taj Mahal before all the other tourists so that I can experience being there and feel and hear the energy of silence.
Do you think it is okay to keep secrets even between best friends?
Well, it depends on the secret. If it is personal to whichever friend and is not compromising my loyalty to my other friends, then yes. It’s a tough one.
If you could be transformed into something else, what would be your preference, and why?
In winter, I would like to my cat – not anybody else’s but my Miss Tatiana. In summer and spring, I would want to be a fairy or a pixie – some creature able to fly, create magic, observe others without being noticed. In Autumn I would like to have a chance to be a tree. I want to know what it feels like to lose my leaves, foliage etc.. I want to feel that season from a Tree’s perspective. Just don’t cut me down.
MY NOMINEES: (RANDOM ORDER ) IFYOU DON’T DO AWARDS TAKE IT AS A COMPLIMENT -I SEEK NOTHING IN RETURN
I’m rolling with the same questions I was asked 🙂
See you in 2017 – onwards and upwards. Make it your own.
Three days to start afresh.
2018 word reflection piece – -candor, heart spilling starch tumble dry fresh.
Ominous eyes on stalks can feel the tearing of flesh.
Lobster bisque – feel the pain- rubbing eczema flakes in the mesh.
Motivational mantras praying for imaginative depth.
A leap of faith from a dark quarry, novels unwrap intoxicating pages saturated in meth.
White suits, red suits, black suits – jokester howls in lunatic tongue at his procurement of all laughter.
Voiceless, misunderstood, invisible swan still morbid, unhappily ever after
Death scents not in lavender bursts, clashes with stale tobacco.
Steven Hawkins, robot voice stuck in a stench of staccato.
Future anxiety. Past Regrets. Present lives in the moment -startlingly clear.
Blink and the eyes will miss it. Shut off all senses and lose the rest of the steer.
Grace be mine, Ego ride away on a horse of jaded divine.
Little Mockingjay prepares Dame to release her idealized body conceptions. Babies speak in benign.
Selfish task force. Love to bind a new union.
Born addicted – a chance encounter for a significant sibling reunion.
Selfish, marred acts of those who seek to atone for sins of Greed.
The world’s a lot smaller, fewer cards.
Time to make new memories in clear waters running with creed.
Tall orders, cats mewling, and choleric baby withdraws from life’s order.
What a sappy mess they make. Second chances don’t come with a promise.
Each soul has its own border.
The ring of education – judicators, over boil in an over timed pressure cooker.
Hungry students ready to whore out the possibility they carry the pearl. Send out for the Hookers booker.
Close these scriptures. War wages paid out in illness.
Mind cavernous in an unresolved mess.
Sales galore – glorified slave stitched clothing for all. Moral urges to make do with a Makeshift dress.
Recycle on thought- careless whisper – the banana flavored condom went in the wrong bin.
Next time buy the toilet freshener with the least amount of Carcinogenic properties within.
The future promise of a surge in over priced goods.
Planning for this new hood smacks of a drugged reality.
Low suspension thoughts, feelings soar through the milky way- lost in an energy of fatality.
Maternally skinny – nourished on a liquid diet, uppers, downers and 7 0f your five a day.
recoil in horror for the day expectant ghoul comes from it’s decided gestational incubation from its hostess.
Who deserves to pay?
A hike up in rent for turning out disabled and bent or, a life staring into the consequences of hitching up an unhemmed skirt?
Murderous plot. Rumors of have not. Denial that life belongs under flowers in stalks covered with dirt.
There is always a choice, Never a right time to get to perfection.
One decision to make. God willing, the next messiah is a fruitful resurrection.
*I dedicate this piece to thank Sudden Denouement Literary Collective A Forum for Divergent Literature for adding me as a member of their literary circle.*
Hash slinger – dilutes 365 days worth of grapes fermenting in a cave filled with stolen hearts.
Instigator- in need of ingredients – list ready not fully prepped but all great recipes need parts.
Dark ale, vodka trail – ‘buy get one free’ cocktails.
E- colorants – fry the mind -a far cry from fresh mint and soul mates kiss.
New beginnings left in a brawl of broken communication,
walking all uphill – alone.
Moving target – pray for the deceased – we may miss.
cuckoo birds sling out freestyle, rap, battle war cries, on a council estate – beaks pointed and drawn.
Prepared to engage in battle. A girl walks by she goes by the name forlorn.
Forlorn found her way back home, in the arms of her significant other.
Her mind and heart she gave away freely to another.
Too many grains of sand lost to shell-shock beach.
Too many thoughts and emotions she stewed over.
One potato – made her believe she was smashed enough and that it was her lucky clover.
Magic happens in all forms of manners.
Butterfly wings eats at the table, always gets a slap to the head from Peppered head chef.
Escapism signs – she drove her mind around the same block clocking 355 days worth of miles. She surpassed the speed of light.
There is a harsh ignorance in being deaf.
Third world faggot.
Take offense to the fact the one can be cured by a doctor at liberty, the other could be the one who does the operation.
Connections made in hazy chatrooms- friends first? denied.
She let her guard go below waist level.
Summer, trees, fresh breeze- no red wine- only a heart jolted into shame and alienation.
Walking into her shift at ‘club unresolved‘, the room filled with patronly feelings.
Ignored, lonely spell caught up with her when she was having her smoke break.
She drew up a new sheet – the rules of this melody could go whichever way they choose. One little minor grew into a major.
Tchaikovsky in need for Concerta of this scale.
Lonely spell – left without decorating the cake.
Allies can be few and far between- Forlorn can’t take lonely spell with her into every one of her dreams.
Sweet relief falls like crumbs to hungry birds, not enough to satiate every lost soul.
At least Jesus had his merry sunbeams.
One year of Forlorn clenched fists, post sticky notes reminding her to breathe.
Begging for mercy.
Forlorn only wanted Lonely Spell to let her be another Venusian friend – not some spicy flavored condiment that would only end up in regretful screams.
‘The Let go’ should bring comfort to sweet forlorn.
Weightless -gravity took hold her.
Luckily Soul mate was quick enough to tie a string around her emaciated form.
His spirit grabbed hold of her – even when bone turned to dust,
falling apart at the seams.
Forlorn, not for thinking she had lost a missing ingredient.
Forlorn because she never needed a magic ingredient to make her whole- she blinded her own eyes with a blow torch.
Moment of Epiphany.
A Stray Cat only gets to sleep in a babes cradle,
if a mother forgets to secure the front door behind her- facing Fallible street -Eastside of the mansion porch.