Just a Girl Lost 2

Just a girl lost~ Here I share bits & pieces of me, in poetry, prose, music & posts from writers who inspire me.


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my newest dream

new dream

I was on a weird doughnut tour with John Cena, the wrestler guy.

He was in vaca from his woman.

We find a place with kids & parents with colorful balloons. The kids kept flying away, too many balloons.

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Dog Days are Done by Florence and the Machine

#1.  This is a GREAT SONG!!!  It’s by Florence and the Machine.  I heard it while driving. 

That’s the only way I hear ‘new’ music nowadays

#2.  Weird, when I was a teenager,

I used to be the one who found stuff before anyone else, well,  a few elses.

It’s hard ‘growing up’.  Meaning, I can’t sit and listen to music all day.

It’s hard growing up, meaning,

I’m not really grown up, just in a different dimension.

Make sense?

THIS SONG kinda sums it up.

As I was listening to it I was thinking,

Damn them, for being so happy, not fair.

I wonder what it feels like?

And then I thought, what if I could make myself

and those around me happy?

I thought, what if I could decide to be happy?

and make this song come true?

What a dream, a beautiful, wonderful, perfect dream of HAPPY!!!

I hope you love it as much as I do.

@justagirllost

 

 


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The Blue Dream

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I promised I would write my dreams,

since I’m not inspired right now to write anything

about Love or Life or Living.

I have been dreaming lately and that is a rarity.

I mean that i am ‘remembering’ my dreams.

I know that we all dream, blah, blah, blah.

I just lately have had some memorable dreams

as in BRIGH COLORS

and STRANGE SITUATIONS.

In this dream, I’ll call it ‘The Blue Dream’, I am in a HUGE, MASSIVE, meandering house.

This huge house is apparently being ‘given’ to me and my children.

(my children’s ages vary and morph as the dream progresses)

In the process of moving in, the former tenants have left a LOT OF STUFF, weird stuff and the former tenants (picture The Brady Bunch times 10) the Brady Bunch are ‘helping’ me clean-up.

As they help me clean up they are also finding things they had forgotten and are happily taking them home.

This house is HUGE and one room has a red puppet theater and a white baby bed and lots of baby toys just lying around.

It’s night and the room is bluish in hue with lights dancing off the walls.

There are people pulling wallpaper off, sawing, hammering, nailing, taking paneling off, putting things in bags.

We move on into the kitchen.  The kitchen is a jumble of carpentry, hardware, sawdust, no table or anything, just a weird metallic, greenish, harsh, undone, uninviting mess.

There’s white stuff everywhere.

Like, that white stuff on walls and ceilings, crumbly and powdery white.

There’s drawers lying on the floor filled with CRAP.

You know, that junk drawer you just throw little pieces of crap into.  There are drawers scattered and tossed and filled with utensils and forks, knives, spoons, corn-cob holders, different colored rubber bands, tacks, tacks, tacks, little nails and all the little things you need to stick things to the wall.  BORING.

I march/slither/slide upstairs, downstairs, all around, seeing rooms with bunk beds, seeing into bathrooms with clothes hanging everywhere and toothbrushes, toothpaste, pictures, children’s paintings, all sorts of things just everywhere.  Stuff left behind, not worthy of keeping, but the Brady’s were realizing that there was some pretty cool stuff they’d left behind and so as I’m seeing into these rooms, I’m seeing the Brady’s picking up, sorting thru, laughing about, holding onto all this stuff they had forgotten about.  They’re finding treasure as I’m tearing down to move in and it’s a chaotic mess.  NOISE and MESS and NOISE and ripping and tearing and running thru the house.

I turn and step into an elevator.  It’s a brown elevator.  Wood with scratches in it.  I step in hesitantly, I know I’m going down, I know I have to get in, but also I decide in this dream that I am NOT going to be stuck in this elevator.  (I am SO CLAUSTROPHOBIC. As a child I wasn’t in the least, but as an adult, I am)

Suddenly, I come to a STOP.  I’m at a dead end.  No where to go forward. I step out of the elevator and am a bit relived because my lucid dreaming worked!

A cul-de-sac in the hallway.  I’m standing in a hallway.  I look to my right and I see sitting on a wooden crate a blond girl, about 5 or 6, wearing yellow shorts and top.  She has pigtails and is just sitting quietly, solemnly on the crate in the cul-de-sac staring at me. Not moving, just staring at me.

I need the bathroom.

I turn suddenly and look straight ahead.  I’m looking in a mirror.  I’m in a bathroom.

I’m standing in a narrow, white enamel on the wall, white sink, light bulb hanging down with a pull string, bathroom.

I look in the mirror and I’m COMPLETELY BLUE.  I’m covered in blue.  Painted blue.  A cobalt blue.  My hair is a mess, all frizzy and sticking out and BLUE.  My skin is blue.  My gown is blue.  My feet are blue!  I look at the girl and feel confusion, I know I have to keep going.  I look down the hallway.

I hear people laughing and I know there is a party going on.

I turn and find some stairs.

I go down these dingy, dark stairs.  The whole house is falling apart/being redone.  It’s got a 70’s vibe. The party room.  Paneling, blue and green furniture, not too well lit.  It’s dim, like a dying sun yellow.

It’s a party and everyone is happy and laughing and talking, but the colors and smell and feeling all say dank, dark, slime, oppressive.

I step into the room and see everyone dressed in groovy polyester pantsuits and dresses, chunky shoes and puffy hair.  I see our neighbor from across the street.  Miss Bea.

She and her husband, Mr. Andy, were my second parents.  They had 4 kids, the youngest girl was a year younger than me and my best friend, my sister almost.  We spent everyday together. Our mom’s would drink coffee and talk and we would play.  We practically lived together. 

Miss Bea.

She looks beautiful.

She’s smiling and laughing, wearing a lovely dress and she’s young.

I’m surprised to see her there because she’s dead.

She tells me that she’s with her daughter.

Her first pregnancy was a miscarriage, they named her Susan, and I’d always felt a sadness from her when she thought about Susan.  I loved Miss Bea.  She was very quiet, tiny.  Didn’t drive a car.  Her husband drove her everywhere. 

Miss Bea, my sweet, mysterious, very kind, never raised her voice, LOVED romance novels, smoked like a chimney, my mom’s best friend, my second mom was telling me she was happy and with her daughter. 

I was uncomfortable the whole time, of course, I’m in disarray.  My hair is a mess and I’m covered in blue! I turned to look around …

I woke up.

That’s it.

That’s my Blue Dream.

 

*image, Death and the Mirror, James Christensen

@justagirllost2

 

 

 


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When a Lifetime of Reality isn’t Real, then what…

I was perusing my drafts tonight, looking for some snarky poetry for a friend, and I came across this. 

I know I wrote this.  The strange thing is that I don’t remember writing it.  I usually remember everything I write because I only write when my emotions are all emotional.  I’m either up, up, up or low, low, low.  I’m not an inbetween writer.  I wrote the title, When a Lifetime of Reality isn’t Real, then what… 

So, as I’m reading this, I’m thinking, “What was I going thru?  dealing with?”  It must have been something epic because like I said, I only write when compelled to do so, as in COMPELLED.  hmmmmm… I’m seriously curious.  I don’t believe in split personalities, yet it feels like someone else wrote this. curiouser and curiouser

Lately, I haven’t felt much like writing.  I’ve been dreaming a lot though.  A LOT. 

Maybe I should just write my dreams when I’m uninspired.  Huh, LIGHT BULB MOMENT!!!  lol   

I will be doing that. I’ll start writing my dreams on here.  Starting tomorrow!

Until then, I’ll leave you with my mysterious missive from last March.

Peace and Love to you all, even the haters (as our Marvelous President Donald Trump likes to say)  😉

Niki

 

 

 

what am I supposed to feel?

Numb  Stunned  Shocked  Disbelieving

Disillusioned   Duped  Distraught

Anger  Rage in Dreams Betrayed  Pain holds sway, a dirge to play, fast fading, Faith torn stripped tattered sways fast against Mind, Flesh & Bone.   Pain, like a Hawk, Claws Sink Deep Beneath Bone & Flesh, Spellbound Screaming Mind Blown Feeling Bits & Pieces Flowing Fleeing Gently Bleeding every Poisonous Drop of Pain.

No more crying in the rain.  No more Fantasy Falling to the Pain

Washed Up Brain Dead  Soul  Fucked  Back Run

Unfind

Rewind  Ahead my Steps No Turning Back  Time’s  Destined Path to Find  Life  

Unbound Unblind to Truth  this Life Unblind I find  Heart  I See  I Know

I Breathe  I  Soar  Beyond the Veil   I See Black Sky I Know It’s Name

UnBlue Pilled   Eyes  Wide  Open   Black Pitch  Death Trap  Matrix

 

Hopeless   Betrayed  Played

Lost

Sickened  Saddened  Broken  Ashamed

Hollow Hurt

Afraid  Exposed  Alarmed  Haunted

Wide Awake  Wired  Electric  Chaotic  Alive

Murderous  Livid  Repulsed  Revulsion Burning  Hate

White Hot  Hate

….

I’m Blown away by the the ease with which we hop, skipped & goose stepped into a red, white, and blue Looking Glass of Hell on Earth.

I’m more like ‘a-ha’ , ok, this must be ‘IT’

‘IT’ is finally here, for me at least.  ‘IT’ has always been waiting for me to ‘See’

I do now, I finally see…

I felt ‘IT’ about 16 years ago?   It’s hard to remember exactly.

I just know I felt it one day.

Like a quiet sonic boom, deep in me.

I felt like everything was real, but temporary.

Like a way station, forever fated and planned, an in between purgatory of sorts.

That’s how it felt, a purgatory, not deprived of anything, just my pride and being able to call anything my own.

It was grey, miserable, yet I had my family, my children, all that mattered, except for my own identity or home.

The second time I felt it was about 13 years ago.  Chloe was a new baby.

I was standing in the middle of the kids and my room.  Just standing there in a funk.  Single mom, living at home, sharing a room and way, way off the mark of where I thought my life, our lives, would and should be.   Feeling angry, mad, disgusted, embarrassed, ashamed, guilty.  Like a great, big L O S E R.  A disappointment to myself, dependent on my family, resentful at the shame time, bratty.  Just a mess of poor me and A LOT of growing up to do.

I felt it, this feeling like I was in a waiting room.

I’ve always had a nagging, uneasy voice, a whisper deep within me, within my soul

It sounds crazy, but it’s been there for so long.  Telling me to wait, just wait.

God, sounds bizarre reading it, but I swear, the voice was there.

I ‘heard’ it telling me something was coming, in the far, far distant future,

but IT was coming and life would never be the same as anyone knew it.  I FELT it, it never went away.

I let it go.

I don’t obsess over things I can’t change.

I didn’t feel anything but a complete certainty, a truth inside me, a calm

and I just said, “Ok.” and moved on with my days.

Have you ever had that happen?

I don’t know what they would call it.  

I know many people believe in psychic abilities, mediums, esp, etc.   I don’t.

I’m Catholic and I was raised to never mess with any kinds of occult things.

 

I don’t even read my horoscope.

 

@justagirllost2

*photo mine

 


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George Soros is a part of The New World Order

I first posted this in November 2016, during the U.S. presidential elections.
Soros was gunning for a Hillary win, but by the grace of God, she lost and now things are in motion to bring down a worldwide cartel of sex traffickers and criminals beyond even his evil control.
Unfortunately, evil never sleeps and neither can those of us fighting for good.
I’m reposting this and hope that it enlightens and informs.
 
Have a blessed day!
Niki 💕
~
 

The Media Has Scrubbed The Internet Of This Video Exposing Soros

This old video exposing the real George Soros has been virtually scrubbed from the internet. Until now.

Spread this everywhere.

Soros is directly funding the anti-Trump protests happening right now across the country. This treasonous bastard needs to be arrested. Let the people know who is really pulling the strings behind the left’s relentless attack on this country.

“I cannot and do not look at the social consequences of what I do.”

George Soros

 

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*CLICK link below and read

George Soros Can Be Charged With Treason and Sedition