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.


19 Comments

The Blue Dream

f3a5ebafe710d382e0ee63f2635f8cac

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

 

 

 

Advertisements


2 Comments

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

 


4 Comments

Insomnia and me ~ a brief, incoherent history

401594d83ff5dad48cddc7d1ebdb5bd5

I’ve been having insomnia. Well, actually, I’ve always had insomnia.

I think it started when I was a child.  I hated naps. I hated to close my eyes ’cause then I might miss something or get eaten by the monster under the bed.  I was an only child, so that meant sleeping in a big, dark, spooky bed alone alone alone. 

I’ve gotten my best sleep when not sleeping alone.  sigh

Oh, and you know those people who fall asleep at the drop of a hat?

WTH???

They are the felines of human beings.  I envy them so much.  

c330efd7dd2b9b8b7c8b24dcbc86ebb1

I did get my insomnia under control about 22 years ago.  I was eating healthy, exercising, etc.  I was sleeping sans any type of controlled or uncontrolled substance and waking naturally ready to start the day.  It was a beautiful springtime of planets aligned.

and then…

I got pregnant & had my beautiful baby girl, Abigail Lee.  She was & still is pure perfection sent from heaven.

I kept her tiny cradle next to my side of the bed & I remember spending hours lying there just watching her sleep.  I couldn’t stop looking at her perfect little face. I felt like I was in a magic place where heaven touched earth. My heart was filled to bursting with a love & bliss I’d never known & I felt completely at peace. For the first time contentment & happiness existed within my soul.  

Ironic that I also lost my ability to relax & fall into sleep.

My beautiful, precious brand new baby rewired my circadian rhythms into new Mother mode of broken sleep, hyper-alertness, super acute hearing, night & day merged into baby asleep or baby awake, forgetfulness, stupidity,  & being really clumsy from not enough REM sleep, my new reality was a heavenly baby who made sleeping hell.

I read every baby book, parenting magazine, everything

They all had 1 Baby commandment chiseled in stone.

“With a newborn baby you have to make sure and take a nap when your baby takes a nap.”

I’m guessing some MALE doctor came up with that stroke of genius.

I tried it once. I never tried it twice.

Naps only work if you instantly fall asleep.  Naps aren’t meant for lingering, they’re short bursts of deep sleep meant to rejuvenate upon waking.

*Only cats & people with narcolepsy are able to wake refreshed from a nap. (imho)

I had my son, Nick, 6 years after Abby and my youngest daughter, Chloe, 3 years later.

I was hoping I’d get lucky & have a really lazy, sleepy baby.  NOPE

They all inherited my sleep dysfunction.

They NEVER took naps, except in their car seats.

They NEVER slept through the night

No matter how tired they got, they NEVER made up for it by sleeping longer the next day.

So, I NEVER slept. I didn’t even try.

My body forgot how to be normal.  It forgot how to lie still in the quiet.  It forgot how to relax.  My mind forgot how to shut itself off.  My mind stayed in constant alert mode.

Even after they started school and got into a normal sleep routine, I couldn’t.

It truly sucked.  I was miserable. I was at the mercy of my mind & body. Like some robot reprogrammed to short circuit.   It was crazy & so frustrating not being able to JUST F-KING FALL ASLEEP!

I was going t0 forever be possessed by Insomnia

I was going to forever HATE, HATE  waking up

I was forever going to be in a bitchy, foul, demonic mood or really stupid until 12noon.  

~

Oh, and you people and your Saviour, Coffee???  

LOL LOL LOL … That’s what I drink to FALL ASLEEP.  pfft.  

What’s that quote by Salvador Dali?

“I don’t do drugs. I am drugs.”  

Yea, my body tells that to every damn God or man-made chemical I try to put in it.   

I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t find my ancestry thru ancestry.com ’cause they only do DNA searches from this planet.  

~

but,

time does heal and 

And as my kids have gotten older sleep has gotten better.

Insomnia is less my master, more my bitch.  

I’ve become wiser, calmer & much more laid back.  

It’s a good thing to be slothful if it causes one to reflect & let go of the chaos one can’t control.

I love to sleep, but I hate falling asleep.  

It’s boring & lonely when you sleep alone.

(S E X with a perfect someone would be the perfect cure, but that’s another story) 😈

~

(Where was I?  ???  (Damn you, Insomnia, you make me stupider)

Oh, so, my point was how is insomnia affecting me presently, now, today?

It’s taken years, but my mind and body finally re-aligned with my pre-motherhood sleeping patterns.

It’s wonderful being able to fall asleep naturally.

I even turn off all the lights AND the tv.  I actually NEED darkness & quiet to sleep now. 🙂

but,

I’m still affected by my children’s sleeping habits, when they have issues, so do I.

When my days and nights get mixed up it can become a vicious cycle and big mess of miserable.  

One cannot simply sleep all day when one stays up all night.

It’s strange how the longer one stays awake, the harder it is to fall asleep.

Night before last I didn’t sleep.  

I stayed up the next day.  I stayed up last night.

I finally forced myself to lie down this morning around 7am. My son was leaving for school.  I blessed him, told him I loved him & curled up on the sofa.  I slept like the dead until he woke me up around 12:30. He had 1/2 a day of school today & we needed to go to sign some papers at the Dr. office.

I rolled off the sofa.  I felt drugged.  I felt sick, like my head was filled with cotton.  I was sneezing uncontrollably & my throat felt swollen.  I was having trouble swallowing & it made me a bit panicky that the top of my palate was itching like crazy.  I kept scratching it with my tongue over  & over.  Palate itching means, “Better get that shit under control or it’s a dumbass death by insomnia & cat allergy”

Lack of sleep seems to trigger my allergies & crappy OTC meds don’t always help.

*I’m thinking about getting a Neti pot.  It just sounds so disgusting & gross.  yuk.  But, today I’m feeling so bad I think I’d give it a whirl.

So, here I sit, typing, no longer sneezing, palate itching down to a low hum, watching Netflix sitting next to a sleeping dog.  

Awake & functioning on my lovely 5 hours of sleep & knowing that at some point I will need to catch up & find my way back into the land of REM.

(omg, I need to stop)

Long story short,  Lack of sleep disrupts my daily duties & wrecks havoc on my mood & physical well-being

Lack of sleep makes me feel empty, unfocused & lost in a fog.

I can’t write like I want to.  

I can’t express myself like I want to.

I can’t put into words all the feelings & ideas that I want to because my brain won’t let me.

There are so many pieces of me I want to share.  

That’s the reason I often repost on my blog & retweet myself on my Twitter feed.   It’s not out of narcissism or laziness, it’s out of me wanting to communicate thoughts & feelings still relevant.

~

*The positive thing about insomnia is that I get to catch up on my reading & actually notice things I had never noticed before about so many of you lovely people.  So many things.

I always adore reading all the beautiful pieces shared by you. 

~

Insomnia is to blame for my lack of words today.

My heart says yes, my mind says, I need rest.

Please forgive me and thank you for reading me, always.

 

I adore knowing that you ‘see’ me.

Know that I truly do ‘see’ you too. 💕

~

 

©justagirllost2

 *image~ sleepless booksby WonderMilkyGirl
*image2 ~ Holly Golightly (Audrey Hepburn) & Cat in Breakfast at Tiffany’s

 

 


6 Comments

On Political Correctness & Civility

Seems that those in our society who are most liberal and seemingly open-minded, are also the most sensitive and ‘politically correct’ (easily offended) when it comes to their ‘feelings’.  They get the vapors, sob, throw tantrums and bully in the same breath.  It’s a bit insane when looked at as an adult, wait, those ARE adults, right??

~

600_quotpolitical-correctness-is-ame

“The term “political correctness” has always appalled me, reminding me of Orwell’s “Thought Police” and fascist regimes.”

~ Helmut Newton

~

And that same group…the mainstream media, many of the academic elite and ,many ‘hollywood’ types (celebrities) seem to have ZERO decorum or manners when it comes to their treatment of those they deem ‘unworthy’ or in their mind ‘evil’.  (The recent AMA’s ugly tirades and mocking bullying and the ‘polite’ rudeness during the show Hamilton on Broadway, as examples)

~

quote-the-president-of-the-united-states-whoever-it-is-deserves-a-certain-level-of-reverence-chris-matthews-117-93-79

“When once the forms of civility are violated, there remains little hope of return to kindness or decency.”

– Samuel Johnson

I hope one day, very soon, we as a society find a happy medium…
Somewhere between tactful petulance and childlike integrity.
As for me, I continue to read viable, reputable news sources.
I continue to look beyond the obvious and what the ‘world’ sees
as ‘good’ because their reality is usually warped and selfish.
I continue to rely on logic, not emotion when it comes to
deciding what is the truth and what is falsity.
I continue to pray for wisdom and guidance in every
aspect of my life, not only as a woman, but most importantly
as a mother.
All I can do is try to keep it simple, sane and hopefully unsanctimonious
One day at a time.
 ~
©justagirllost2

 

 


9 Comments

WTF WordPress???

I just saw this in my reader:

Oops!

This is a post on a private site that you’re following, but not currently a member of. Please request membership to display these posts in Reader.

 

 

WTF?

How did I follow a private blog? I don’t follow private blogs unless invited.

and now I wanna know…

How can I UNFOLLOW if I don’t know who the hell I’m FOLLOWING???

SMH

 

©justagirllost2~ Monique