these dark and dusty cutthroat mornings are fading as the sunlight filters through the blinds kissing my clavicle i lower my blankets reveling in the warmth of nature’s furnace upon my breasts i smile a genuine smile the songbirds sing good morning and i hum them a tune can you feel it? Spring is coming
After a long hiatus we are back with episode 7!! Neil and I were having a hard time coming up with topics to discuss. After a year of being stuck in the house together, doing the same damn things day in and day out, it’s hard to find interesting topics to discuss and share with the world.
In this week’s episode, we discuss overrated and underrated music. I have posted the links to the bands and songs we mention in the episode at the end of this post.
We hope you enjoy this episode, and we would greatly appreciate any feedback you have for us. We want to start engaging more with our listeners, but it’s hard to do if you remain silent. Let us know what you think and give us some topic ideas you would like to hear us discuss! If we use your ideas, we’ll give you a shoutout!
Thank you & happy listening!
Love & life lessons,
Here are the links to the bands and songs we mention:
Imagine that you are thrown into a pool without knowing how to swim. The pool is full of obstacles that you must get through just to make it to the shallow end where you can finally breathe. This is how I feel, all of the time, lately. I have responsibilities, and sometimes those responsibilities become backed up because I have so much on my plate I struggle to get everything done. Then I’m left looking at what needs to be done, and I have difficulty relaxing. It’s a vicious cycle.
I suffer from seasonal depression; add to it that I haven’t left my house in over a year due to the pandemic, a health scare with my father (he is fine, by the way,) but I am going a bit stir crazy. I think that’s true for most of us. My father is getting older, and I’ve noticed little things that I need to keep a closer eye on, but he is thriving, living alone for the most part. I think he’ll be able to do so for a few more years. I’m looking into ways to make life a little easier for him, so he can still keep his independence.
Being a caregiver isn’t the easiest of tasks. I don’t mean to complain, I’d marry Neil all over again if I had the chance, but that doesn’t mean that life isn’t difficult or that it doesn’t get the best of me sometimes. Neil does what he can to help, but mostly everything falls on me. Now I’ve gone and added University student to the numerous hats I already wear, I believe I might be a glutton for punishment.
In addition to this funk I’m in and can’t seem to bring myself out of, I am disgusted by the racism in this world. How anyone can look at anyone else regardless of skin color, nationality, etc… and not see the human spirit inside that person is beyond me. I will never understand it, it will always make me angry, and due to that, sometimes I have to take a step back. It’s not that I won’t raise my voice and stand with anyone who is different than I am because I will always stand for what I believe in, but sometimes the anxiety isn’t worth it. For example, I got into it with a Trump supporter who posted a very racist comment on Facebook not too long ago. This particular woman commented about slavery reparations and how she should paint her skin black so she can receive the help from her country that she deserves. Well, let’s just say this didn’t sit well with me. She asked a simple question, “How is my comment racist when I’m just speaking the truth?” Being the naive soul I can be, at times, I honestly thought that maybe she truly didn’t understand how her comment was racist, so I decided to educate her. I even brought credible sources to back up my thoughts, and when I asked her where she got her information to support her counterpoints, she became angry. Instead of providing me with sources or admitting that she didn’t have credible sources to back her information, she decided to take the bullying route. Instead of answering my question, this 50-year-old woman responds by telling me that she doesn’t think I’m pretty because of the gray streak in my hair and then proceeded to tell me that I’m ugly.
Don’t mind the silly filter; it’s the most recent picture I have where you can really see all of the silver in my hair.
The old Kristian would have replied with some snarky comeback about how she is too stupid to back up her sources and too closed-minded to listen to any kind of reason or even want to be educated on subjects she doesn’t understand. Instead, I responded with the following gif:
Sometimes, the best answer is just to walk away, and I’m proud of myself for leaving it at this because any sane person who sees her post will realize she’s the one who came out looking like an idiot.
I am going through the motions, and I’m trying to pull myself out of my funk, and I’m trying not to let things outside of my control bother me so much. I am growing and learning and adapting new beliefs. I plan to write about this, and I hope to get back to blogging somewhat regularly again, but I tend to fall inward when I’m feeling depressed. I have a hard time reaching out to people, I want to write, but I just can’t seem to bring myself to do it. I have no energy, and I lack motivation, and I hate this feeling. I will snap out of it; it’s just taking a long time.
I am behind on most of your blog posts, but I do hope to catch up, or at the very least, start actively reading them again. I’ve just needed a bit of a break from everything, but now I find myself missing my creative writing. I have new ideas as well, but I’ll save those for another post.
Spring is almost here! In the meantime, I’ll keep feeling my feelings and bleed until I heal.
I hope all of you are well and I wish you the best week ahead!
She watched as he ran the sandpaper following along the grain of the wood. Kevin’s strong hand glided across the oak beneath it, the wood softening with each stroke. She couldn’t help but notice the muscles in his biceps bulging, and she crossed one leg over the other as she felt her temperature rise. She cleared her throat, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
He turned his head to look at her. He flashed her that sly, lopsided grin she didn’t realize she had loved so much until that moment. As their eyes met, she held his gaze, and she found herself wanting him to kiss her. She wondered if he could read the want plastered on her face.
He stood, never releasing his gaze from hers. He moved slowly towards her. He gently placed a finger under her chin and lifted her head to look at him. “Please tell me you feel this?” He pleaded. “I feel it,” she confessed breathlessly. He placed his hands on each side of her face, gazing into her eyes. “I’m dying to kiss you.” He whispered, his lips lingering, inches from hers. “What are you waiting for?” She asked playfully.
He moved ever so slowly towards her, driving her crazy, and she let out an impatient sigh. He chuckled lowly as he moved, he stopped as soon as her breasts were touching him, at the top of his abdomen. He slid his thumbs along each side of her jaw before allowing them to caress down her petite neck slowly.
Her eyes darkened with desire, and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped past her lips as his fingers softly glided across her collarbone, his hot breath following his fingertips. He locked eyes with her, placing his arms around her waist. He leaned in as he titled his head, “Jessica?” She gave him a confused look.
He whistled to grab her attention, breaking her from her daydream. Her entire body jerked. He laughed, “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he paused, “You were spacing on me.” “Oh,” she couldn’t hide the disappointment in her tone. “What were you thinking about?” He asked her. “Oh, nothing, really.” She returned his sly, lopsided grin.
I awoke this morning like I do every morning, with sleep in my eyes and a dream in my heart, needing coffee to come alive.
I found myself staring out the window at the white, velvet, snow blanketing the ground and tree limbs, and I thought of Frost, wondering if he felt the same way I was feeling, watching the newly fallen snow, crisp, clean, and sparkling.
I could comprehend why he wrote “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening.” Did he have the same sleepy smile that graced my face? Was his heart also flooding with unfulfilled dreams, and love as deep as the woods he described?
“What a wonderful way to spend the last day of this dreadful year,” I thought. “Watching the new snow fall on the old, not quite as white, but still pretty.”
My mind wandered to my aunt, cousin, and the mother of my sister-in-law, all battling cancer. Wondering how many years they might have, how many more miles until they sleep?
I took the time to think of family and friends, and you, the person reading this. I hope this new year brings new dreams to look forward to, laughter that leaves your eyes watering and stomach aching, and love, as deep and magical as the woods Frost described, and I hope you take the time to stop by them on a snowy evening.
it is nothing short of a dream to sit by my christmas tree cup of coffee in hand staring out the window fascinated by the blanketing silence as mother nature shakes her snow globe and its ability to slow time my mind wanders to the mean old man across the street and i find myself hoping his feet are warm as mine are not perhaps it’s the christmas spirit or the spirit of my mother on the anniversary of her last breath reminding me even the coldest souls deserve to be warm and as i allow my eyes to roam the picture perfect post-card of trees and white and swirls of gray smoke from old brick chimney’s i can’t help but smile for this must be the feeling the soul felt when it first uttered “Merry Christmas.”