Tag Archives: dreams

Sometimes There’s Much and Sometimes That’s All It Was

There’s not much unconditional or guaranteed in life that won’t break your heart. Everything else really sucks…it hurts…and you can feel like you’re alone. You’re lonely, you’re reserved to it. That’s how it goes, mostly.

But there are a few things that can sneak in, to make your life more whole. To remind you of the positive. And, that taking things for granted or trying to put the pieces of your heart back together will be and is always a struggle you’ll have.

My kids…I know they always love me because I am a part of their every breath, I take care of them through nourishment, through lessons of life. Because I am their mom and that is comfort and it is home.

The sun rising…as it promises a new day. A chance to start again, like a reboot every morning, our bodies are charged, energized, ready to take in new information. It’s warmth and it’s shine brings that absolute awe.

A good and genuine conversation…could be with anyone. A significant other, a peer, an acquaintance. Your friend that gets you, a sibling, yourself. Sometimes being truthful to yourself can set your mind free from doubt and confusion and hatred and sadness.

A dream…real or imagined in slumber. It can open your mind to possibilities you hadn’t known existed. It can help you declutter. It can help you organize. One’s mind can race and race and race…and race, until all you see is a blur…a fucking grey blur! My dreams…I’m thankful to have some clarity after a day such as that. I won’t get all the answers but WHO EVER DOES? My dreams remind me that I’m a good person, that I have goals in mind and sight. That I’m not “just here” but actually present.

Today is a Wednesday. I had a huge fight with my husband. I am a tired mom. A friend is being aloof. My coffee is already lukewarm. The baby is sleeping soundly. My emotions get the best of me. I felt like writing these down. That’s it. That’s all it is.



When You’re Wild and Young

Alone in the night is never really a good feeling especially when you have someone there next to you. You dwell on past experiences, you regret yet you don’t regret, you feel like a failure, you feel sad that you’re so sad and choose to be so. It reminds you that you still have dreams, I guess. That you think that you do deserve the best, or better than you’re getting.

You get to cry silently. Maybe the other person feels a slight shudder beneath the blankets but ignores it because he just doesn’t want to deal with it…again.

I’ve never had such great ideas as I do in the night. Every emotion that I try to closet during the daily routine rushes out then and it frightens me and excites me. I can do this, I think. Yes.

I’ll write whole paragraphs in the night, in my mind. Wishing and hoping that I’ll remember them in the morning…but they drift away. And the more I try to remember, the further away it goes. Not the story, but how I want to share it.

I’d love to write about actual experiences, but they may be too personal for me yet to unveil. Not necessarily to myself because I’ve already thought about them over and over. But, what if a particular someone read it and was shocked by it all. Maybe didn’t want to hear or read such words. I don’t know if I could ever do that to them.

So that is why I’m scared to write my heart and soul out. I really don’t know how you can do that without the uncomfortableness, without the hurting. I’m close to it though. Maybe one day soon I’ll be able to. I’d have to start from the beginning of course. Way way back when I was truly innocent of such thinkings that go on in men’s minds. Way back when I was only fifteen.


Almost Forgetting Oneself…Thank Goodness for Those Teenaged Years

She motioned to me that she wanted to leave
And go somewhere warm, where we’d be alone
I do not know, what’s going on but I’m guessing
It’s an all night thing, yeah, it’s an all night thing

Those lyrics were in my head last night as I was falling asleep. The sweet, smooth, powerful voice of Chris Cornell from Soundgarden and Audioslave fame. This song, All Night Thing, a part of a little known yet awesome album by Temple of the Dogs (a merging of members from both Pearl Jam and Soundgarden) as a tribute to a friend who died so young.

Poetic musings to a jazz beat, starting softly and then belting it out in that rock-grunge fashion, making me feel every emotion of every line sung. Sing it, baby! Wooh!

I’ve always loved that song since the first time I heard it. Funny how things that touched you so like that as a teenager can stay with you even twenty years later. Back then, I’d listen to that album on repeat, actually one of the first CD’s I had ever purchased from that mail order service they used to have…pick 19 CD’s for a penny, or something ridiculously incredibly awesome like that.

I was so fascinated by the lyrics…what did it mean, did this really happen, would this happen to me? It was my teenage fantasy not so dissimilar to that of a fairytale princess waiting for her knight in shining armor. Yet much more mysterious, more forbidden. I had just started dating my first love, you see, so the hormones and reason were pretty much out of control. I would push repeat on that song until I tired of it, letting the CD go on to the next and next, all such good songs, but definitely different tones and moods.

I even took colored pencils to paper once and wrote the lyrics out, drawing a dead tree, a moon, a dark sky. That’s what we did before iPad doodling or searching Tumblr for THE perfect meme to describe your emotions. I still have that piece of artwork and I cherish it and cringe at it, all the same. Let twenty years pass by and you’ll understand why.


As the days turn from one to the next, you sometimes forget who you were as a young adult finding yourself. You look at people and situations with scorn now. You scrutinize and demean, in an all-knowing megalomaniacal way. You forget to dream because you’re older now.

I listen to this song today and I still get the same feelings I did at sixteen. It haunts me. It moves me. I’m reflective. I wonder. And, that pleases me, it means I’m only partially jaded.

Song Reference: Temple of The Dog, All Night Thing.  A&M Records, 1991.