The Little Things that Curl Up on You.

What ever happened to the rollie-pollies? Surely they’re still around. Could it be they’re no longer in my periphery because I am no longer as low to the ground?

Sometimes I feel like a rollie-pollie, if you touch me I will curl up into a tight ball and try to get away.

I saw a kid at the park who reminded me of one of those bugs. He freaked me out because he was so small but wearing adult-looking clothes. He had on one of those puffy coats and dark pants, but was only like a foot off the ground. Plus he kept doing summersaults—which obviously meant he was trying to imitate creatures he and his brother find in the cracks of sidewalks. Or a rollie pollie bit him and he will soon (if not already) turn into a two-year-old super hero. I can’t wait for that movie.

I’m wondering at what point I stopped paying attention to the details, the creatures hidden in the cracks, the little things in life that make it interesting...

I haven’t entirely forgotten but those memories seem trapped or hidden within the deep terrain of my brain—far back in my subconscious or something—they exist only for weird dreams or links to newer images, details, situations.

When I looked up images for the rollie pollie what I found were bigger and grosser looking organisms than I had remembered. Why did I ever touch those things? And why isn’t there a set way to spell the word? And why do we call them "bugs" when they're really isopod crustaceans?

What else have I forgotten that I will one day re-member? Why does my brain feel like a big storage facility instead of a thinking, working machine? What else is in there? I want to remember now! But I guess I don't need to. Or I would. Right?

Writer, You are Not Alone. But You Knew That Already, Didn't You?

I am not having a good day and it continues as I eat the most disgusting apple I have ever had in my life. How can trees (and/or people) mess up organic apples? It tastes like it was dipped in poison and then thrown in the sewer. Organic, ha! It's about as organic as my pink hair.

So I know I've written a few negative-esque blogs recently and I would love to snap out of it, but it's going to take a day or two. I went and heard a literary agent speak at the Boulder Book Store today and besides it being filled with the overwhelming smell of Avon body powder (as there were older women everywhere), it was depressing.

Last year the agent received a total of 36,000 query letters, from that 36,000 she read about 2,000 30-page samples, from there she read 98 entire manuscripts. Nine were selected for representation. Five were sold.

Five.

Five out of 36,000.

Okay, so I don't write sci-fi, or romance, or teen lit; but I'm guessing that the numbers aren't that different in any other genre.

Obviously if one goes to a bookstore it's apparent that more than 5 books get published a year, but still, so many people in the world are trying. I don't want this to be a "hobby," if I wanted it to be a hobby I never would have gotten a degree in it. Yet I feel it would be beneficial for me to go back and get the degree all over again. Or maybe I should just add another one from a different field to the pile since I can't get a job anyway. Ha!

I wish I wouldn't have went to the talk at all. It really didn't help me like I thought it might. Also seeing all those old people there was not inspiring--it made me realize how long it could actually take, ah!

Now I have to read Bird by Bird again just to become re-inspired.

Also must find fruit that doesn't taste like it was used as toilet paper.

Promise to be more positive tomorrow. :) (see I'm already starting with that smiley face)

Dear Companies Who Have Rejected Me:

It's nice not having to get up early to make it to work at the exact time every day. And it's nice not having to stay at work (whether I have actual work to do or not) until a precise daily leave time. It's nice not to have a boss. Or restrictions. Or a dress code. It's nice to be able to work on whatever I want whenever I want to.

But, it's not so nice that my work is never compensated.

And it's not so nice that I have all this talent going to waste that could be used to improve your business or your non-profit. But it's not really my fault is it?

No. I've tried. I've written "you" letters. I've even gone in to meet several of "you." And I've even pestered a few of you, basically begging to let "you" let me help "you."

All I can say is, your loss.

I'll use my energy and creativity for my own good (which directly correlate to the good of all people). And perhaps before my savings runs out one of "you" will notice, one of "you" will actually read my letters, enjoy my company/conversation and want me.

And if not, just remember when I am swinging upside down from a pole (and at her age, who knew!) I will be thanking all of "you" (those of you who wouldn't hire me and those of you who over-populated this earth with people "better" than me).

Yes. I am bitter. Yes. I am cynical. I am highly educated, talented, and way more creative than 93% of the population. Yes, I hate capitalism and I hate the idea of working "for the man," but this doesn't mean I should have to be homeless and hungry. This doesn't mean that my education, talents and creativity should just shrivel up and die! But that's what "you" all seem to be trying to do.

Well FUCK YOU and your quotation marks!!!!!

I don't want YOU either.

And anyone else who is being ignored, rejected, hated-on, please feel free to join me in not only saying F U! But in the creation of our own "thing." We can make our own money. And do what we want (including setting our own hours and wearing yoga pants to work).

We just have to believe we're worthy and skilled enough to risk it. So, if you're with me, give me a holla'. I'm going to begin brainstorming so I can win my own future. (Take that Obama speech writers!)

A Rabbling on Wasted Time and the Writing Life.

I could scream I am so unfocused. Why do I do this to myself? Why is clicking so addicting? It is a serious waste of time. My friend is right, I should break down and order “Freedom” or “Liberty” or “Stay the F Off Line” or whatever the program is called. I thought I had the will-power. I thought I could stay dedicated to the task of writing, but I’ve been on here since 9:30 and have since wrote an email (a long email nonetheless) and created a FB event. Other than that I’ve just been click-happy, checking out what’s going on in cyber world. WTF? Why am I doing that? I don’t really care do I?

This disturbs me.

The other problem is the writing itself. Every day I write somewhere between 1000 and 4000 words but none of it connects. I can’t seem to continue working on something I had worked on the day before. I lose momentum or excitement or desire to continue on that project. I seriously have like 10 to 15 different stories half-finished.

Perhaps it would be better to just accept it. Until I can learn to focus maybe it’s best to just write like this and then a few months from now I can re-read all my work and find the best story to continue on with. Everyone has their own style of creating, why do I have to feel so guilty that I’m doing it my own particular way? I’m not Annie Dillard. I’m not Stephen King. My "writing life" is in a different time. I never wrote on a type writer. I never wrote without the internet (for the most part). We writers have to learn to adjust to this. It’s not my fault I was born into this transitional period.

It is my fault that I can’t complete anything. Well anything of any length. Anything that must be worked on the following day.

AHHHH!

Sometimes a nice scream is all one needs.

Book after book on writing discusses this idea that the writer’s life is like solitary confinement—that may have been true prior to FB but it is not true now. Unless I turn off my connection I can talk to any one of my 473 friends who happen to be online at the time. Not that I do. But I could.

This is all a major mental battle for me. I know I have discussed similar issues in the past but I somehow find this the biggest challenge of them all. Balance. Clicking the red X and really meaning it.

Or believing that the work I’m doing is meaningful enough to work on a second day. That it’s not just ramblings (like this) but that someone somewhere could really take something from it, that with great care and tremendous work ethic my words could mean sometime more. . . and maybe that’s what I’m most afraid of: not doing it well enough so I trick myself into not doing it at all. Or doing it in fragmented pieces that won’t come together until I’m 53 and finally have confidence.

That would be nice. A mere, “this is my voice, like it or not.”

Maybe if I meditate with that mantra . . .

Coffee, Time, and Inventions that Could Save the World.

The problem with the french press is that it doesn't stay warm very long. Well, it's really hot when I want to drink it. Then I burn my tongue. So I wait. The first cup is a good temperature, but if I want anymore I basically have to chug the coffee so it doesn't go cold. Or, I have to re-heat it.

And can I just say, I'm not a big fan of microwaved coffee. I've really been contemplating an invention that could keep my french press coffee warm--0r an invention that could warm it up without it tasting burnt or giving me microwaved cancer.

The first thing I thought of were "heat rocks" like ice cubes except their hot. Problem is I don't really have a good way to warm them up (if I'm trying to not use the microwave). Nor do I have a way to get them into the coffee without burning my fingers.

The next thing I thought of was a heat pad--where I could just set my french press on top of it and it would stay warm...but the press is made out of plastic and I'm no engineer so I have no idea what materials I could use to prevent burnage.

I then thought that I could plug my coffee pot in and dump the french press coffee into the pot and keep it heated that way...but isn't that just a major pain in the bum? I mean, if I'm going to use the coffee pot, why not just make the coffee in it?

So anyway, I'm sure there is already some sort of invention out there--just like when I invented the self-rising toilet seat or the alarm clock that wakes you up with "sun" light and of course, how could I forget my mini-martini invention.

It saddens me that I am not quick enough to the patent office. . . but maybe if I didn't have to reheat my coffee that extra minute could get me there before anyone else. . .

I'll Sock It To You. (Literally a Blog on Socks.)

Every day I have to put on socks. I go to bed sockless, even though initially, the bed is cold. I deal with it, okay. But then I get up the next morning. I walk around the apartment. I eat breakfast. I drink coffee. I try to sit down and write but I can’t because my feet feel like ice-packs. You know, those big plastic blue things people put in coolers instead of ice. Yes. That’s what my feet feel like. They feel like hard unmovable cold bricks. So I have to wear socks.

Which, is actually pretty cool for the most part, instead of walking I get to slide to the refrigerator or bathroom or couch. Us having a wood floor and all.

But wearing socks every day makes me have to do more laundry. And my toes can’t breathe as easily. And I get those little fuzzy things in-between my little piggies—though they never go to the market or go wee wee wee (if they did, well, I’d probably enroll myself in a mental institution).

But aren’t socks just really weird when one stops to think about it? They’re actually quite funny. Two identical pieces of cloth we pull over our feet so our feet can keep their distance from our shoes or the floor or from feeling like ice. And did you know they have stores dedicated just for socks!?! How odd. I mean does one think about socks so much that they feel the need to want to shop just for them?

“Hmm, I feel like buying something today, what haven’t I treated myself to in a long time. Oh, I know, my feet have really been yearning for a new pair of socks!”

Even the word itself is weird. Where did that come from?

“In the 20th century nylon became popular for stockings because of its strength and elasticity. As men's pants grew longer, socks became shorter, with the word "sock" replacing "stocking" for these smaller foot coverings.”

Okay. That makes sense, but it doesn’t explain where the word “stocking” came from. That word is just as strange.

“The word stock used to refer to the bottom "stump" part of the body, and by analogy the word was used to refer to the one-piece covering of the lower trunk and limbs of the 15th century—essentially tights consisting of the upper-stocks (later to be worn separately as knee breeches) and nether-stocks (later to be worn separately as stockings)."

Thank you Wikipedia. Without that I may not have been able to continue through my day. I now feel relieved to know the origin of the stocking.

But to be perfectly honest the sock isn’t my problem as much as my blood, okay, not really my blood but my circulation of blood. It seems to not like to reach my fingers or my toes.

As my aunt used to say, “cold hands, warm heart.”

Which makes sense biologically and personality-wise (not that I’m necessarily a warm person, but that’s probably because I wear socks and gloves to prevent the whole “warm heart” thing from taking over).

I don't really know where I was going with all of this. Really I was just complaining to myself about my cold feet. And not "cold feet" like I'm scared to do something or anything or everything. Cold feet as in literally freaking cold, like the depths of the antarctic sea.

Why! oh Why! Can't I have a heated floor? Or better circulation? Or socks that don't leave fuzzies and that let my piggies breathe?

(It's also strange to call toes little piggies, but I'm not going to go there today).

10 Important Questions On: The end of the world, technology, veganism, writing, zits and more!

1) Is there always an "end of the world" scare looming over people? I mean didn't people think the world was going to collapse in 2000 based on bad computer coding and it becoming a new century? Obviously it didn't happen. Nothing happened. Yet, 2012 looms nearer--should we really be worried?

2) Are we better or worse due to advancements in technology? What does that even mean? How can that even be determined? Obviously we can't know what we would be like now if we didn't have those things because we do have those things; thus the question is should we embrace them wholeheartedly, ease into them, always be slightly suspicious, or go off the grid entirely (do it Amish style)?

3) Writing fiction seems really complicated. I mean creating whole human beings out of thin air, making them dimensional, making them have depth and motivations, allowing the story to move forward in a thrilling page-turning way. Creating made-up events in an attempt to connect with other people. I just don't if I'm capable. I'm wondering if I should just stick to non-fiction?

4) Why does coffee taste so much better pressed than from a pot?

5) Why do I still get zits?

6) Should I really be meditating? Everyone keeps shouting at me, "Yes!, Yes!" and I try it off and on, it's okay. But mainly it has just become another thing I feel guilty about not doing. How does one stop feeling guilty--I bet people will suggest meditating. Ha!

7) If the government cuts funding to all non-profits etc. and truly turns into a completely neoliberal free market society, will we all become like third-world citizens? I don't know about the rest of you all but cutting birth control to poor people is one of the worst government mistake I can think of...and then not letting those kids who pop out watch Sesame Street, wtf? Maybe our world really is going to end soon.

8) I find it a little annoying and very distracting that so many people attempt to "remake" traditional meals into vegan meals instead of creating new better tasting ones. I understand that transitions are important, but sometimes I wonder if the good original vegan creations get lost in the chick'n parmesans and mac and cheez's of vegan kitchens. But whatever makes people happy. I'm just wondering where I can find some recipes that are tasty and not rip-offs from my great-grandma's lard-infested beef stocked cookbooks?

9) Am I the only person who, on a daily basis, gets pissed off at the atrocities that are constantly occurring? Both BIG mega events like genocide and every day craptastic things like people not sharing the sidewalk and living in a rape/violence/misogynist friendly environment? These things and many more make me angry. And I hope I'm not the only one.

10) If 2012 is the end of the world or even a major shift in the world should I be doing something better with my life right now? How could I ever really know that? Unless there is a parallel universe out there... I wonder...

Smoothing out my Smoothies.

My first smoothie from my brand new birthday blender (yes I buy myself weird birthday presents):

I'll call it Blueberry Bliss with a Twist

Ingredients:

1/3 cup of blue berries

4 to 5 whole frozen strawberries

1 kiwi

1/4 to 1/2 cup of O.J.

splash or more of soy milk

1 to 2 tablespoons of wheat germ

ice

Directions:

blend

This made 2 large smoothies.

And check out my new glass straw. Perfect for thick smoothies!

Can I just say that smoothie is quite a strange word. It seems rather immature actually, like words children use when they're being cute. It must be the ie... creeping along making everything kidie. Whatever, they're still yumm(ie).

The Publishing World: Women v. Men.

I got my monthly Creative Nonfiction newsletter today, the main story was on gender disparities in magazine publishing. I clicked on the story that started this discussion, an article listed on Vida called "The Count", which shows graft after graft of Women v. Men magazine statistics.

Of course it is pretty much like I expected. Men dominate this field just like any other arts field.

But I'm reminded of this TED talk video I watched a week or so ago on "Social Media and the End of Gender" by Johanna Blakley.

And, though I am appalled that there is still so much of a difference between female and male published writers (not to mention race etc.) I don't feel discouraged (okay, maybe a little bit) but I am also hopeful. Blakely talks about social media sites ending gender because women now have better control over their selections in what they want. They no longer are divided by demographics but by taste, and most women have better taste than male-led advertisers and hollywood exec would have us believe.

With this I believe change is rapidly going to occur not just in social media but in print media as well. Half if not more of print readers are women. If we write for our audience, which is what print media is about, we must keep women's taste in mind, and who better to write articles women would enjoy then, well, women.

Also women are going in droves to universities and soon they are going to be replacing some of these men in high-end editorial jobs. I would say women accounted for about 85 to 95% of the population in all of my Writing and Publishing classes.

They are going into the workforce more experienced, assertive, and confident about getting these types of jobs. And once they have these jobs I would hope they would do a better job selecting a variety of different writers, not just women, not just men, but all types of people with different backgrounds, religions, races, sexualities, etc. as long as they're good writers. (though current editors should already be doing this.)

I know there are plenty of good writers out there. Some of them have unique styles, interesting voices, strange structures, but if we give them a chance we may discover we actually like all of this variety. We may discover that the standard story is a good story but there are a plethora of others that are just as good if not better. And of course, we may find out that women are just as capable of writing good stories as men. But we kind of already know that, don't we?

I truly believe that in a short time these disparities will be fixed. But we can't just sit around and wait, we have to let people know what we want.

And if we're women writers we have to keep writing. Keep reading. Keep trying.

We'll even it all out, we'll land in our favorite magazines very soon.

Super Birthday Powers! (Would Help Everyone)

Ever since I was a young girl what I always wanted on my birthday was to turn into a witch, like Sabrina or magically come down with badass fighting skills like Buffy. Of course, my sixteenth birthday passed with no such luck. But I didn't give up. I thought, well just because they're 16 in the movies doesn't mean in real life I have to be 16 when it happens.

Yes. That is correct. I thought I could still get the fantastical skills but I thought the entertainment industry was lying to me about when it would happen.

Now. Today. I am 26. Ten years later and I have yet to wake up with the power to stop time or reverse it. I don't have a talking cat. And I've never killed a vampire.

Yet.

I'm not giving up. Who doesn't want super powers? And why do I have to be a teenager to get them?

Now that I'm older and "more mature" my super powers would be used for the good of humanity and not just to get boys to fall in love with me. Doesn't that make me deserving? Isn't it my time?

Okay, so maybe Hollywood uses that particular "magic-power" plot-line as a way to carry stories and make them more interesting. I'm okay with that. If you can give me some of those powers, get me a reality-tv show!

Watch me smash the patriarchy!

See me super-kick rapists in the crotch!

Slap racists across the mouth!

Rip misogynists' brains out and replace them with smarts!

Follow me as I end oppression one ism at a time!

Pay close attention as I sprinkle glitter all over the world!

Now, wouldn't that be a good show?

ATTENTION HIPSTERS: Major Recall!!!

Item #: 0004731

Product Name: Your Girlfriend’s Skinny Jeans

Return IMMEDIETLY!

After a five-year case study of 100 male hipsters it has been concluded that 87% have seen a drastic decrease in the size of their penis. We believe this to be the cause of restrictive skinny jeans. Please be advised!

Recent hospitalizations have occurred due to shrinking of the penis and lack of circulation in the upper thighs. In some cases the jeans have had to be surgically removed. Please take precaution.

These pants may be stylish but borrower beware they are dangerous to your health.

(Plus your girlfriend wants her pants back.)

If the Rich Want to be Richer, They Should Protect the Poor.

I am really fed up and disgusted that I have to constantly defend my my body from crazy health care laws.

For one thing, cutting funding for birth control is probably the worst financial decision the government could make. Why?

Well, let's see, hhmmm, I don't know, maybe over-population.

The majority of women who use services from Planned Parenthood and other like-minded places are low-income. I am one of them. Taking away our protection is not going to prevent us from having sex. If we can't afford it, we will risk it. And within that risk becomes the problem not just for the woman but for the country. What's going to happen to the low-income women who gets pregnant and sees the birth through? What's going to happen to those children?

The government will end up supporting these people through welfare-like programs or food stamps and even if those are taken away too they will surely be supporting a majority of them in jails. (Even with these programs many low-income people still end up in jail, that entire system is fucked up, but that's a different story).

So even if you're an uptight conservative who doesn't believe that a woman should be able to make her own choices about her body it's easy to see that low-income women needs assistance in the prevention of pregnancies.

And it's tiring to always be arguing about this. It's tiring that every election a bill has to be voted on about "life," as if the Supreme Court holds no weight. And almost every other month there seems to be some issue over my health, an issue that makes me anxious and paranoid and scared for this country. I feel like I'm constantly sendings emails to congress or the house, it's like they're waiting for us to give up so they can sneak one by us. Can we please just stop it?

If we're not willing to help out the low-income people now, the low-inome people living in the United States, the low-income people living in the U.S. who are nearly if not homeless and starving, the best solution out of all the solutions would be to create more of them. Yes. Right? All the poor women should just have as many children as possible. And then die of breast or uterine cancer. Or herpes or AIDs. And then we can let their children repeat the cycle. Fun!

Yes. Great idea. Let's see where that gets us.

If you're as annoyed as I am please:

Click here to oppose the heath care cuts to family planning.

How Much Would You Pay for Happiness?

I just watched this documentary called The Great Happiness Space, which is about host men in Japan who entertain women at high-end bars. It was so weird. I'm still trying to wrap my brain around it. What I found to be most interesting is that 70-80% of the women who go to these host bars also work in the sex industry as prostitutes or dancers. Perhaps that's what I don't get. These women know the men are just acting, that the men don't really care about them, just like they don't care about the Johns they give blow jobs too, and yet these women spend hundreds to thousands of dollars just to get attention (and drink champagne).

Obviously I don't understand this culture at all. All I can suggest is that the women take a trip over to America and come to the bars here. Then they may never want to pay for attention again, they'd get an over-abudance of it. To the point where they may even pay the men to go away.

But, of course, when one pays for it one get to select who she is getting attention from.

If you could hang-out with a Jake Gyllenhaal look alike or a Ryan Gosling type, would you pay to get attention from him?

Is there a fantasy or dream-like reality scenario you would pay for? And if so what is it?

Can Jake Daniels Save My Soul?

On a Quest to find my (spirit)uality.

For the next 30 days I will imbibe as many spirits as I can in search of the true meaning of life.

Surly it's at the bottom of one of these bottles. Why else would they be called "spirits"?

I will also watch the X-Files as it's full of spirit-like searches--though of a different kind.

I think this quest is going to be expensive and exhausting, but life-altering...or perhaps just liver-altering.

Maybe I'll get mini-bottles for mini-spiritual awakenings.

Or maybe I'll just focus on one spirit a week.

During week 1 perhaps I'll find what I'm looking for in the SKYY. If not I'll spend a week with Jack Daniels and if he can't teach me anything I'll move on to Jose Cuervo, though if I add enough sugar and lime it turns into Margarita (what a drag queen drink). If my spirits still haven't risen after three weeks I'll take a week long trip with Bombay. If by the end of the month my (spirit)uality hasn't altered, then I'm just going to say F it, call the Captain over and I'll drown my sorrows in rum.

Garlic: Not Just for Scaring Off Vampires

I found this book at a Thrift Store called Food Your Miracle Medicine: How Food Can Prevent and Cure Over 100 Symptoms and Problems, in it there was a section on colds so I thought if any of you all think you're coming down with something this cold be an easy and cheap remedy: garlic.

According to the book, "Dr. North found that garlic extract killed nearly 100 percent of both a human rhinovirus which causes colds and parainfluenza 3, a flu and respiratory virus."

(Dr. North is a chief microbiologist at Brigham Young University)

They suggested eating several cloves (2-4) of raw garlic at the first onset of symptoms--cut them into chunks and swallow like whole pills.

They also suggested that if you're a person prone to infections to eat 1-2 cloves a day to keep them at bay.

I don't know how accurate this is--but it seems safer, cheaper, and healthier than downing a bunch of pills for a week. I'm making Ryan try it. I'll keep you updated.

Top Three Great Things About Being Sick.

1) Sleep

2) Reading

3) Netflix

1) I slept so much this past week that I think I have earned some bonus hours for the rest of the month--I can now sleep less because I already got those hours in. (That's how it works right?)

2) When I wasn't sleeping I was catching up on the New Yorker. Now this is no easy feat, I can make an educated guess that out of everyone who has a subscription to this magazine only 1 out of 100 actually read the whole thing, and actually read the whole thing before they get another one.

3) When I was too tired to read but not tired enough to sleep I watched oodles and oodles of Netflix, documentaries and television shows based on historical events so I felt like I was "learning" something--and when I got sick of learning, Nip/Tuck (what a terrible show by the way). I've finished Dead Like Me. I've almost gotten through season 2 of the Tudors, half way through season 5 of Nip/Tuck AND I've started the X-Files (yay for the 90s).

It's been a very productive/unproductive week. I got absolutely no writing done. But I'm not going to sit around and feel guilty or try to play catch up on those hours because then I'd get overwhelmed and everything I did would come out like shit. So, I'm going to ease back into all of this. And to be quite honest, it was nice to not sit at a computer all day long, it was nice not caring what was happening on facebook or (sorry friends and family) in my email inbox.

It was nice to take a break from it all--even if I wasn't feeling too hot--because it made me realize how I actually use my time, how it's wasted and what actually feels like an accomplishment.

Finishing books or magazines will always feel more rewarding to me than reading anything online, there is just so much satisfaction after turning that last page, seeing and feeling that the end has come--whereas online it just keeps going and going--and that is not rewarding at all, that is overwhelming, the endlessness causes anxiety.

This week I'm going to be more mindful about the time I spend on and off line. I'm going to make sure I'm not wasting it all in virtual space. I'm going to finish more offline tasks, I have one New Yorker to go (before the new one comes) I'm not going to be distracted.

On Actually Being Sick.

So I wasn't being a hypochondriac the other day, I was though, being a bad speller, but that's no surprise. Anyway. I actually did come down with a cold which got me thinking how much I couldn't handle anything major happening to me. I am over-dramatic when I am sick.

But I also don't care.

And that's so nice.

I'm taking this time to really soak in the feeling of not caring. I mean, my body is too tired to exert that kind of energy anyway.

I really hope I can stay in this calm a bit longer. The sickness can go away but the rest can hang around for awhile.

Maybe this rest will allow a new "me" to blossom.

Sometimes it's good to get sick, get all the bad stuff out. Become again.