Along the line;

Somewhere along the line, I lost myself.  I lost the music, the art, the words – oh, the words!  I never would have thought.  Me.  No imagination.  No creativity.  No inspiration.

There must be something terribly wrong.  This is just not the way I am.  This is just not me.

My life has changed – I have changed.  What’s more, it’s not for the better.  Life, age, responsibility, money – the fighting, the loving, the fighting.  Oh, the fighting.

The hatred, the words, the hate – where does it come from?  What have I become?  Moreover, what has become of me?  With all I have been, where have I gone?

Who am I?

I am in need.

Warning Boys: Gotcha! (I am Lady, hear me roar);

Everything you think a woman doesn’t know?  Oh, she knows it.

Whether or not we let you in on that little fact, be aware that everything you think you can hide from your Lady you absolutely cannot.  We are observers.  We are analyzers.  We are empaths.  We are perceptive and detail-oriented.  And the suspicion of our male counterparts is innate – we are born protective (think “mother lioness”) and, I would say, just as territorial as our lesser-halves (ha.).

Look, if we’ve decided to be with you it’s because we think you’re the best.  In whatever way is most important to each individual woman (romance, stability, wealth, practicality, attraction), you beat out all your competitors.  You had the flashiest feathers, the sweetest song, the most prevalent battle scars.

Congratulations: you won!  But don’t flatter yourself, it’s just nature.  In the same way that female animals judge the available gene-pool, thus do we.  Though for us it becomes a bit more complex than these physical factors, we too are animals and will protect our property accordingly.

Don’t balk at the word.  It’s how you think of us, isn’t it?

Much of what men try and hide from their women is harmless.  Of course there are more grave situations and hurtful offenses, but what I find my husband most tries to hide from me is something silly, say, eating an unhealthy snack.  What’s even more ridiculous than the fact that he tries to hide it is the fact that he thinks I give a d@mn.  If I, then, point out that he’s got a bit of chocolate icing on his cheek (undoubtedly from devouring the sweet rapidly to avoid detection), he accuses me of “controlling” him.

Really?  Fine.  

Next time I’ll just let you walk around with sh*t on your face.

 

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Girl Sings the Blues (because she’s meant to);

Perhaps I have spoken about this topic before I can’t recall – but I will again.  And you can’t stop me.  I mean, I suppose you could just click past my post, but then that wouldn’t be very nice now would it, hm?

When I was a child, I always thought I was most beautiful when I cried.  I mean, yes, there is nothing like a child’s smile (I can see that now), but there is also something so beautifully compelling about a melancholic femme who so obviously bares the weight of many sorrows.  At least to me, that is the sort of person whom I would like to get to know more about, to understand, and to analyze.

There’s nothing intriguing

about a cheerleader;

Now, I’m not insinuating that I had a bad childhood – actually, quite the contrary.  The life that I was privy to was marvelous – don’t get me wrong.  But inside of me there was always something wrong.  I was always different.  At a much younger age than my peers I thought about love, about mysterious adventure, about many things that a youngster should not comprehend.

I cannot recall

ever being innocent;

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Let’s talk about pride for a minute —

My husband is a proud man.  He is Italian, and – as much as I hate sweeping generalizations – passion and pride are at the top of my list of characteristics of your average Italian (man).  While I do mean passion in the romantic or sexual sense, I also mean in all aspects of their lives.

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That Boy Over There is Dealing Drugs While His Sister Sells Herself–

Have you ever sat on a bench at the park or waiting for the bus or in any number of public places?  Whether or not you speak to the people around you (or even actively observe them), you do tend to notice something about the way they are or what they are doing.

Maybe the boy sitting beside you is rolling a joint.  Or that girl over there has on heels that are too high and a skirt that is too short.  Did those two in the corner just exchange something under the guise of a handshake?  And I wonder if that girl is old enough to be with the man she’s walking with!

Now you’ve seen it.  You can’t unsee it.  You can’t pretend that they’re not there and that it didn’t happen.

But do you take the time

to pass judgment?

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The Soundtrack of my Life: or, what music and when?

I live life by a Soundtrack.  Music lends itself to any situation.  Whether it be in regards to creativity, productivity, or even your emotional state, music is always there to stimulate and bring to life ideas.

Reading Your Writing Lady‘s post “Should You Listen to Music While Writing?” brought this idea to the forefront.  Whether music is a helpful base or a harmful distraction to your endeavors – well, that’s really dependent on the type of person and the type of music.

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