The Hardest Job In The World
Parenting is the hardest job in the world. Read more
Parenting is the hardest job in the world. Read more
Of all the dilemmas in the world to have, this one was one you could chew on.
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A city opened it’s arms to a younger man,
more nervous than he would cop to.
Accepting false bravado.
The city’s women opened their legs to the same man,
shyer than he would admit to.
Buying good-natured cockiness. Read more
The field is as beautiful as you’ve ever seen. The grass, the greenest. The sky, the bluest. Even the clouds seem to have been impeccably, perfectly placed in the sky.
The lone tree in the middle of the field is a stone’s throw to the brook that runs alongside this exquisite field. The wind slightly ruffles the grass, coming down from the top of the hill.
I am there. Read more
i could omit this from this space completely.
it wouldn’t be a lie; it would simply be a silent piece of emptiness
that you wouldn’t even notice wasn’t here.
but i’m coloring it in anyway. Read more
When I look into the mirror, I see a pretty girl- that could stand to have a nose job and silkier hair. Maybe more flawless skin, as well.
When I undress I see a nice body, if in need of more womanly curves and the removal of the love handles as well. Read more
If she told you that she wrote light fiction or poetry, she would be lying. She didn’t write anymore. Nothing more than a grocery list or an email. Ideas lay in the past, dusty and unmoving. Hard to resurrect after pausing for so long. Read more
His hands were surprisingly warm. It had been so long since anyone had touched my hands I forgot how comforting it could be. Larger than mine, thicker, almost like a well-worn pair of gloves, his hands guided me through the fingerprinting process, my third time in five months. It was early in the morning; earlier than I normally woke up. We talked a bit, my voice scratchy from the tears hiding behind it, tired from the lack of sleep, underused from so little verbal contact lately. There were still traitorous pangs of want beating through my chest. Read more
Some women will go to great lengths to look good. I’m sure you’ve heard it all before; breast implants, nose jobs, liposuction, bulimia, anorexia, Atkins, the growing range of cosmetics on offer, and the list goes on. One may begin to wonder why it is that looking good has become so important to us, when at times the one who looks the best is incapable of withholding a conversation about anything other than lip gloss or Big Brother. It is helpful to look at it from an alternate perspective, because you will see that it seems so very well… un-right that what the media perceives as “beautiful” becomes what goes in our society. Why is it that films, books, music and magazines have such a big influence on the way we look at ourselves?
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I wanted to follow up a bit more on yesterday’s post about community, prompted by Jen at One Plus Two who writes:
“But I do know I long for a sacred place – where women come together, to debate, to heal, to grieve, to flow. A place where our truest selves can be put forth and honored like the incredible gifts they are. Where our idiosyncracies can be discussed and cherished. Where many women love my child….