the edges of myself

words, words, words

Among the many realizations I’ve had about myself of late are these two things: 1.) Despite my belief that I am an incredibly open person, I have some pretty massive, fortified walls up around me. And 2.) I have a really hard time trusting women. These two realizations both hit me like a ton of …

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For several years now– too many to count, although it wouldn’t be hard to do, I’ve been silently beating up on myself for not writing. I’ve moved forward in fits and spurts, but they have mostly gone unacknowledged by myself– and somehow I have managed to continue to give myself the consistent message: YOU ARE …

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I have a confession to make. I haven’t been consciously withholding this information– but just recently uncovered it somewhere in the depths of my cells. I have spent years being ANGRY. Horribly, Defiantly, ANGRY. At myself. What I have realized is this anger (that I have managed bury to the depths of my being) has been …

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i don’t need to take pictures– your fluid image emblazoned in my mind feet gliding above the sand hands blossoming a golden lotus.   this seamless stretch of time away from existing structures– free to explore new contours find new lines in the curves of our faces.   a deepening– realizing– acknowledging of what is and …

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