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« twenty six weeks ~ six months | Main | The Perfect Protest* »

October 06, 2010

Comments

Jolie

Wow. I had a canopy bed too and the same posters (except Barry). I got to a point where I ran out of room in my diary and started writing on legal pads. I stuffed them under my bed, but I was so fearful that someone would find them that I finally destroyed them. My 20's were dark and I just told someone recently I spent that whole decade trying to attain a perfect body. I don't think of myself as a writer, but I like to write. I have those same fears and I admire your ongoing courage and willingness to put yourself out there.

Tracy

i just love this post. thank you for sharing from such an authentic and honest place.

i was very touched by the grab a lantern part... perfect metaphor for me today.

thank you for adding some beauty to the world!

Amber

There is no such thing as "bad poetry" - what an asshat, he totally didn't get it. I really appreciate your honesty and authenticity in this post. And I had to laugh at your first journal - I had the same one with the little locked box. I'm so glad that you are writing.

Nicoleknavel

ahhhh...I can so relate..the canopy bed, posters and small diary with lock and key. I loved mine as a child and continued to journal through my teens in search of all the perfect yummy soft leather journals i could find. I was married early and had two children by the time I was 23. My twenties were pure bliss...filled with cuddly babies, art projects, play dates, and picnics at the park. I loved every treasured moment as my kids grew up. Now...38 and faced with the empty nest...one 20 and my youngest almost 18...I have picked up the pen again...found myself a soft leather journal and began writing in hopes to find who I am now. Such a mucky place I'm in right now but I am trying to enjoy the journey. I am so thankful for the blog world and to have found kindreds that seem to touch my soul just when I need it. xo

Trish

You're writing is fresh, open, vulnerable, like a welcome breeze in the blogosphere. Bad poetry...he had bad judgment...thank you for sharing of yourself and your winsome words. I look forward daily / weekly to your musings / perspectives. You're a treasure

oxox
Trish

julie

I want to comment, just to say you are heard, but I really have nothing else to say. Yes, you are right, I and other readers could criticise your friend for his harsh, unthinking words, could offer praise for your writing, your honesty, your beauty, all that you give out to the universe, but sometimes it is better to say nothing and just be present - as you say, sometimes advice is welcome, needed, sought after and useful; other times it is nice to unload without feeling that other people are going to judge, or solve the issue; sometimes no matter what people try, and with the best of intentions, no-one else has the answers or the ability to unlock the mental puzzle. So, I am present, I am listening, and I am liking what I read. Nothing more.

Eileen

I've been writing in diaries with little locks which have grown into gratitude journals, dream journals, art journals, and yoga journals. In these pages my mind was similar yet different from yours and I am so glad to see we share an outlet. When I read those younger journals I try to view that younger me with love- she was always trying, always hard on herself and just wishing to be accepted and loved. It sounds like you were too in some ways. I love your courage, your writing and how you are brave with your heart. I'll be reading/ listening as well.

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Bella Wish

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  • photos of me were taken by Denise Andrade ~ www.bohophoto.com