My Newest Journey

Lately, I have been wanting to talk about Journey, you know the travel from one destination to another and another for a final end. But the words weren’t all right, so I figured it just wasn’t time, I had to sit and let life happen.

We all change, we grow, becoming more of who we’re meant to be. We go through the horrific patches that seem endless and repetitive, but that’s only because some of us, well most of us, are hardheaded and refuse to listen to the wise voice that tells us only the truth. So we constantly and consistently run place until we have had enough and then a new journey begins.

We are all afraid of change. We hate what we cannot control, we fear what we do not understand or what we don’t know. Your life is a journey,  change will happen regardless, you can either run in place and hate the world for changing or you can grow with the world or beyond it. The choice is truly yours.

My newest journey took me by the gut. I was angry at the world but mostly I was angry at myself. I felt so ashamed and disgusted by my actions,  because I knew better. I went through hell and high waters. This was not apart of my plan and could have done what was necessary to avoid any bumps of any kind. I resented everything about myself and I was fearful for myself. this new journey was untraveled waters. I was in a deep spiral. I felt that my dreams were a thing of my past, I had completely thrown them away like a favorite pair of shoes; unreplaceable.

I even tried ignoring these emotions but that only made everything so much worse. I was feeling selfish because it was suppose to be about me and only me. Then finally, I called to Jesus and in a heartbeat he was there. I felt everything I was feeling like I was supposed to, I needed to acknowledge these emotions going on. This new and frightening journey will take me far beyond who I am.

This will give me everything that I have ever asked for; Courage, to do the impossible, Inspiration, where the rivers run without end and Purpose, an intense reason for my being, where I can pour all of who I am without fear. Where I can grow above and beyond my wildest dreams; emotionally and mentally. Where my dreams weren’t thrown away like an old pair of shoes, but revived and revamped. My newest journey, Motherhood, will be my best one yet.

HELP WANTED: Prisoner of Writer’s Block

Today, I cannot seem to write. Every sentence just seems lifeless.. Mentally, I feel empty and there doesn’t seem to be a better way to describe this. It’s frustrating for me, to have so much to say and cannot say it. Simple challenges that come with a little ease is almost impossible to complete, let alone start. I feel like my brain is being fried by a stun gun Writers block, I’d like to say is the culprit; I just want to write.

I have given myself a well needed break before continuing any writing adventures. Any suggestions WordPress bloggers?

ღ HOPE ღ

She wasn’t like any women you have ever seen, she was different. I know it’s a cliché, but she was. She was dealt a life with its own trials and tribulations, which was no different from any other life. When I say she was different, I don’t mean her circumstance, I mean Her. There was a grace about her. Her essence hummed and it resonated with everything she touched or even looked at, but she wanted to stay hidden; to remain unseen by all who sees. For the most part she remained unseen, but there were a few who saw her grace. If she smiled, there it was. If she looked at you, it was as clear as day. She cared for people in a way that doesn’t exist anymore. So when she looked at you, she saw you. For the few that have seen her, all wondered why she wanted to hide. After a while she forgot why she wanted to hide but still, she remained hidden.

As the years flew by her Grace grew stronger and she was luminous. It was hard for her to stay hidden and that didn’t scare her as much as it did before. She would laugh freely, be playful, with those close to her. Her grace grew so strong that she was revealing herself to her. She spoke with pure kindness. She laughed at herself, which took years for that to happen. She was always an ear to listen, a heart to understand, and when she understood, it wasn’t like anything you thought you knew. She had a gift for understanding. Anyone who ever needed her, no matter what she was going through, there she was. She was the Wise One, the advice that came from her, was individual only. By that I mean, it was strategically structured in the that it was delivered that you never thought a door would be open, or that it existed.

Her grace blossomed even more. She had another, the gift to inspire. She could inspire you to do things beyond what you could even imagine. Inspiration surrounded her, and those who saw her, all they could do was stare in awe and respect her. Her intentions were always translucent, she had no ulterior motives. She had the gift of Sight, so when she saw you, she saw who you’ll be. She saw potential in its rarest form. She saw passion and she inspired. Her Grace, now fully bloomed, was Hope. Those who wanted to dream bigger, would remember her and the words she spoke. For them, she was Hope. But for her, they were her Hope; a vision, a promise of a better place.

In response to “Everyday Inspiration” by The Daily Post Day Three: One-Word Inspiration.

23.

There’s voice inside of me who cannot be caged
No one can make you feel something without your consent.
The Blame Game is a Famous Game
Manipulation is a party favor
self inventory is feared upon
The Spirit is real, minus those who are still asleep
Truth is blurred
Hope is a dream
people are lost
Love still exists, but few remembers
there’s good in some places,
Mistakes are made
Growth is uncertain for those who listen.
Faith is dying
The world is falling
Unity is an outsider
Corruption is breakfast, lunch and dinner
people are toys
money is power
The world is falling
The world is falling
Fear is evident
Chaos is luxury
unity is an outsider
Love is the answer, but no one remembers–
Corruption is
Breakfast,
Lunch,
and
Dinner.
..Things I’ve Learned in 23 years..

In response to Everyday Inspiration by The Daily Post: Day Two : Write a List.

Faces

Vacant stares;
and sorrow dares to show its face,
once again.

In response to “Intro to Poetry” by The Daily Post: Day Two: Faces ; Allieration

Why Do I Write?

I tend to ask myself this question on a regular basic; Why do I write? Every time the response seems different. I write because it’s me. I write to express. I just write. Then there are the other parts that I don’t talk about, like how hard it can be sometimes. So many think that it comes so easy to me to be able to make up stories or just simple express myself in verse, but it’s hard work. I hate having to force myself to write because it seems like nothing comes out right. I like for things to flow. Writing involves a lot of discipline, something that I lack just a bit. I want to write everyday, I feel that I could have tremendous growth if I did. I know I would. It’s just so difficult at times when life takes control.

But then I think, what if I couldn’t write anymore, and panic arises. This motivates me to remember my true love for writing. If I couldn’t express myself through words, there would be chaos from the inside out. I think way too much about everything and everyone. My mind moves faster than I can truly keep up, writing slows it all down, for just a moment when I can get some understanding before she speeds back up once more. So I write, because it bring joy to my soul and a calmness to my spirit. Because “there is a voice within me that will not be still” -Sylvia Plath

5 Reasons Why Women Fake Orgasms

A lot of women have done it. I’ll refrain from using the word “most.” Through a range of reasons, women have faked orgasms. Men have too, but at a much less frequency. Interestingly enough, …

Source: 5 Reasons Why Women Fake Orgasms