Disconcerting…..Detached
Colors outside the lines
Blurry…..
This particular emotion is completely lacking…..
Lacking cohesive qualities
It’s unravelling
And the edges keep getting stuck in the door
At its most severe case it’s completely unsettling…..
And it’s weakest
Subtle anxiety
Dry mouth
Like sand mixed with cotton
Anesthetized
Clinical white
In this sterile environment
I’ll await my next dosage
Hands heavy laden
Cracked around the edges
Layered with side effects~
Not for Reproduction~
I’m in the grey…….
Grey Chasm swallows
I’m in the grey it’s where I’ll stay for now
I will not attempt to move quickly
Nor will I be rushed
Do I fascinate?
Do I invoke fear? Hate?
Perfectly negate?
Am I your guilty pleasure…
Is there no distance yet to measure?
I’ll create my walls
Build my tower strong
Brick by brick no matter how long
Exterior crusted over with
Innuendos and regret
I’m in the grey
I will not be pulled away
In this Chasm I will stay
Until I decide, until that day
You can not reach me… There is no definitive here
No truth or lie
If I want to stay until I die
It’s then a matter of choice
The beauty of my grey instilled in me a voice
Slowly it drips…..spill forth from my lips
Turning my words to black and white
Finally to distinguish which is wrong and which is right
But I shall not take flight oh no, I will move slowly with precision
At the end of the day it’s my decision
For now I’m in the grey area
Safely in my tower, walls erected
While my thoughts become collective
Selective
In the grey
Ideological fanaticism The mirror holds the image so tight~
Unable to move out of ones sight~
Hourglass turns and sands starts to drain no longer can time contain~
Life sustain?
Reflections cracked and connection lost~
Guess no one decided to count the cost~
Detached and subdued, Drained, by the need~
All that they long for festers in greed~
How your heart full of art, Beautifully broken will bleed~
While I write these words, You read~in your mind It is I that plants the seeds~
Defining sounds consume all space~The shadows grow larger in this place~Yet disappearing without a trace ~
Grips that shackle the freedom once given~the strength of youth lost to time~Now live on your life walk the fine line~
We swallow their lies~Yet long for truth~
But all is lost, Especially our youth~
By the time you think you arrived~Your life event you barely survived~Often you wish that you just died~
All gone to another not each other~Surely push away forget together~
One day you look back and all that you see were words written …….Scribbles that rhyme but that’s ok fool yourself all is just fine~
Fine you say dear oh Darlin ~Lend me your ear~
When I speak these words, I invoke fear~
So run to your shadows~Hide away fast~
No matter what, I always last~
Rise as I watch you wither away, Longing to late now~How you wish I would stay~
Live now with your choice~Till your dying day~
Regret , remorse spinning the web~
Tears flow down your face onto your pillow then onto your bed~
When your alone you think of me~How we could have been, Let’s others see~
Yet you let me go again, You set me free~
Still you will come again and again~Just wait you’ll see~
The art of sorry in 4 easy steps…….
For the majority of us being sorry is something we often feel when we do something wrong. We often forget is that when we truly are sorry and we apologize to the other person with whom we done wrong too we open ourselves up for hurt.
Feeling regret or remorse or sorry is an emotion that humans feel after doing something against their lack of better judgment or against their values or morals…..basically in any circumstances that they should’ve acted differently in.
Previously I stated you open yourself up for hurt when you truly are sorry, you then proceed to tell the person with whom you have wronged that hey “I’m sorry truly sorry”
What happens when you are sorry 1. You say it and 2. Mean it and 3. Leave yourself open to the persons response there are no “but’s” or “Could’s” or “Should’s” or Would’s” 4. There is but one single statement” I am sorry” that is all that should come out of your mouth. Next you should prepare yourself to receive whatever the other person Has to say in response to your contriteness silently listening without excuses.
Lately it appears or so it seems that the majority of relationships that I engage in are all one sided. This makes for a lonely existence. Unfortunately however alone it may feel I am learning that it is necessary to limit those around you who continuously make excuses or are master manipulators at trying to always turn everything into their “reasons for” never truly being sorry , only wanting to explain why they did what they did… see that is not sorry, Or at least where I come from that’s not what I was taught.
So to recap…..don’t ever say that you were sorry unless it is the only three words that you were going to say to the person you wronged,there is no excuse for whatever you’re sorry for that’s why it’s called being sorry….So there it is 4 simple steps to the Art of truly being sorry.
First of all how do you even know for sure that it is bipolar?
Everyone has different realities and perceptions.
The anger well did you let this person down in any way?
See anger comes from being let down. I know. When someone wrongs me I get very angry. I can rip them to threads if need be.
So there is no answer to this question that would constitute a useful suggestion.
If you don’t know what to call it?
Because there is nothing to call perhaps you may need to talk with someone yourself about this troubling situation.
I can tell you therapy and a support system with friend helps a bunch.
But yeah…..if you feel this strongly and don’t know what to call it I advise you to get Therapy as well. Good luck God bless
My Mon was 78 years old right there in the photo, just saying~
Momma I called Dennis today, been 7 years since you passed away.
I was sick in my mind and was unable to help when you died.
Momma we had a very strained relationship I felt that you tried……. the best you knew how, oh how I wish you were here now.
The words I speak now are still hard to find.
After 7 years I asked Dennis, I never met face to face.
If he would render the ashes, if not where they were placed?
Momma he couldn’t you see.
He gave them to your companion who was 20 years younger , as you well knew his name is cecil. Here I got his picture today! He looks great see 
I searched Cecil down and what a surprise he did tell. By the way he is doing well.
He poured out your ashes onto your mothers grave.
It was to late for your ashes for me to save.
Momma I’m sorry I was sick in my mind, there were many around me who were very unkind. You warned me long ago but I didn’t take heed. Watch who you let in and what exactly they need. They will cling to you, your life force and will breed.
You mailed me a card voicing concern, it was mailed the day you died I finally learned.
Momma it is bittersweet to know the day you passed & went away that you mailed the card to me that very day.
Momma you already know I grieve differently than most.
I have delayed grief it takes many years to finally sink in.
Just like when Dad died ashes to wind, he died on my birthday as you already knew. He died 7 years before you.
Momma lately you haunt my dreams… I want you to know I don’t have a Stone where your ashes did go, so this is your headstone now this is your grave.
Momma you kept secrets to tell……
But I’m not sure if those secrets went to heaven or hell.
I’ll never know but I can presume you’re finally at rest you paid the price you passed the test.
I know your life was really hard it was far from the best.
How I wish things were different
How they could’ve been.
Momma receiving the card you sent on the day of your death,
It was delivered 3 days later
I opened the mail box took a deep breath.
Momma the last two years of your life we became close
I want you to know I miss you and Dad both.
You lived through Katrina I found your sons as you asked, I never knew you had many children each one you left except me, I don’t know why,
And will never understand why it was me? Or why the others never came to see, except my sister Jackie
But time has a way to change what has past make it what’s best.
Momma I talked to Dennis to day
Twice before too, this is what he would say “Kismet” at first I didn’t know what he meant
Didn’t know how time moves,
How time is spent.
I know that will be the last time I’ll talk to him as he announced to me his Kismet is due.
Momma Dennis is now 71 years old.
He had a few stories that needed to be told.
His accent sounded so good so Cajun you see the blood so creole in you and in me.
Momma you instilled in me the Bible and quotes each day
At night on bent knee psalms 91 we would pray.
I still can recite it in its entirety today.
Momma you were known as the great fortune teller who lived on the bayou I saw what you did…….
How you always eventually knew.
People would come from cities around to see what was ahead of them to see what you found.
You used a plain deck of cards for you to see what would be.
The kings and the Queens and jokers Jumped out of the deck.
Taking inventory gave them the check read them the mail from the outer realm, touched by the unseen, you taught some to me, taught my unseen instincts only you could at first see.
Prophetic words spilled out of your mouth. You could summon the knowledge from North, West, East and south.
You never approved of any man I brought before you.
They were not good enough,
They weren’t good men.
“Not able “you’d say to give my daughter only truth long the way, to love me as needed, to protect me from harm, guess you knew that none existed so you never did tell how life could often be hell.
People clouded by lies shackled in death, confessing only in their last breath.
I’m so sorry momma I couldn’t get you in a casket into the ground.
But Jimi sang a song just for you how profound
“The wind cries Mary” all around.
https://g.co/kgs/pxdqgQ
I think of you when I hear that song, Jimi tapped into your life somehow in that unseen realm… I think it’s cool and truly old school.
How could he see the creole Mary how the wind would cry your name, how the words painted your life, your strife, your hope, the saddest thing to me was you had to learn to cope.
So Momma this is your headstone on the web of the world immortalized but your story not all told.
Momma I too now am getting old.
Your grandson is growing up to, I see so much of me in him like I see so much of you in me.
Funny how life works how it moves along somehow.
Momma I pray for your blessing as I move along on my quest
Momma inside me I know you’re at rest.
Love Nicole
Mary Louise Bourgeois
R.I.P.
7/12/1927 – 9/30/2010
In that photo she was 75… died at age 83.
Excuse my blog for a few days it has a malfunction in the FIRE WALL! it’s fixed soon thank you~
A life lived for another is no life at all. Be yourself~who are you living for?
I haven’t written in awhile and soon I will be writing about why. It is called 101 days of Hell~ and in more contemplative thoughts I’m working on how one can achieve happiness alone….. Yes I said happy and alone in one sentence and it feels good~
Bipolar Tapestry~Poetic Thoughts 