A stench that was once a curiosity – old fashioned “church lady” perfume. Of course that’s a fragment, but so is the memory. I recall a tiny, smooth bottle with a glass stopper, filled with what would become two dissonant memories. Continue reading
Don’t give up on me. I strive for perfection and fall short every time. I don’t sleep regular hours and rarely stay down all through the night, but that’s not why I’m restless. Stress throbs my temples and you know what that feels like. Bear with me.
I only give up about ten times a day. If I had a dime for every time I got side-tracked … Just have a little faith. This could get scary and time is the only damn thing that will tell. There’s a lot riding on my efforts so have a heart.
All I need is your confidence and occasional encouragement. I can watch as the cracks form in the sky. I don’t mind bearing the weight of the continents on my shoulders. I can take it when all seems lost and tomorrow could totally crumble around my weary corpse. Don’t look at me.
I don’t care about the money, or the clock ticking. I will keep moving forward little by lots, blow by blow, life and limb. Just don’t ever give up on me.
- this i’m not (Oct 1999) (inturruptingcow.wordpress.com)