Kissing Rose Petals

We have all had times in our lives when it just doesn't seem worth it. When everything seems too hard and too raw and too dark to keep going. We lose sight of the real reasons that we care. Those are the times when you have to stop and listen to the world around you. Let go of the negativity that has seeped in while you weren't looking. Laugh for the sake of laughing. Smile so that it lights up the room. Feel the sun on your skin and the wind in you hair. Think of someone that makes you feel special. Kiss a rose petal. And love yourself.

Thank you to everyone who has helped me to remember to love myself. You keep me going in times of struggle. And I hope I can do the same for you.

Huggles and rose petals!

Mentally, physically...

Have you ever been so tired that you were nauseous? So tired that you can't walk straight? Well couple that with the sensation that every time you actively try to seek unconsciousness you are left with nothing but a racing mind, a pounding heart, and a restless body devoid of sleep and you have me today. I beseech the powers that be that I can pass out when I am done writing this. After the stress of last night and my constant run run schedule, I cannot make it on another night of toss and turn purgatory. I always say that keeping myself insanely busy is the only thing that keeps me remotely sane but without the brief respites of revitalizing REM I am simply a wreck. My schedule does not allow any flex room on this issue. Wish me luck...

Good night and sweet dreams when you get there.
Huggles

This is my muse on sake...

My muse is sitting upon my keyboard this evening. And in my introspective state of mind I have written some poetry. Though I think my muse may have had a bit too much sake tonight. It was warm and delicious but my prose is rambling, bitter, and disillusioned. Much like the love life by which it was inspired. Or should I say lack there of. Though that is arguable as I discussed that there are many types of love. Many of which I undoubtedly possess without second thought. And when does one type of love truly become another. Where is the line between my love of him as a friend and my love of him as a lover, partner. And in the existence of so many types of love lies the sparkling hope of a new love that I have overlooked. One that is not tarnished by past abuses. One that is different and glorious and real. Surely the lack of proof for such does not rule out the possibility of its reality. Moreso I have no proof against it. Thus in my drunken rambling I manage to assure myself that I am not as bitter as I thought. I simply do not yet posess the route by which to bypass the bitter lack of hope and disillusionment towards intimacy, trust, and love that I currently am experiencing.

Or some such reassuringly philosophical bullshit.
Fuzzy sake-fied love huggles!