This Isn’t a Drill

This isn’t a drill
What you do matters
It frames your future
In cloth or in tatters

This isn’t a drill
You words all have weight
What you say today
Speaks love or speaks hate

This isn’t a drill
You can shape your dreams
Whether they come true
Depends on your schemes

This isn’t a drill
So awake to a newly
Given chance to just be
And to live your life fully
This isn’t a drill
What you do matters
It frames your future
In cloth or in tatters

This isn’t a drill
You words all have weight
What you say today
Speaks love or speaks hate

This isn’t a drill
You can shape your dreams
Whether they come true
Depends on your schemes

This isn’t a drill
So awake to a newly
Given chance to just be
And to live your life fully

Writing

Whenever I start writing I wonder whether I will hit a wall within the first two sentences.

Writing is fairly easy – you just string a lot of words together into a sentence. Writing well – well, that’s a different story.

Most of what I write here is for my own edification. I have a goal to write a little each day, so that’s what I try to do, and this is where I gather my thoughts, if you will. Sometimes the words come out as lyrics. These lyrics, for the most part, are rarely accompanied by a melody. The two aren’t simultaneous actions for me.

Otherwise, I write prose. And it’s usually something sort of stream-of-consciousness – just as I’m doing today.

But, like I said, it’s writing, and it’s to help me reach my goal.

Dawn

Whenever the sun rises
It’s a brand new start
Another day to live
It’s a chance to change
To right old wrongs
To take nor more, but give

To plant anew a garden
To grow flowers bright
And harvest more than weeds
We can face new challenges
Dream great new dreams
And dare new daring deeds

In the dark

In the dark
I am reminded
Of my greatest fears
Of all the things
I didn’t do
Throughout all the years

In the dark
I remember when
I said so many things
Things that hurt
And things that cut
And stuff that sadness brings

In the dark
I can recall
All the hurts I felt
All the slights
And all the slurs
All the times tears welled

In the dark
When I can sleep
The fears are soothed away
My mind is clear
The thoughts all stilled
And soon a brand new day

In the dark
Our souls can mend
And our thoughts can still
We can heal
And bloom again
And thus renew our will

Boredom

My weakness is boredom.

I hate to be bored. I need to be doing something every minute. That means that while I’m watching TV, I have to crochet, or read FB, or play a game.

I can’t have large gaps of doing nothing. I have to read, or doing something with my hands. Even while listening to music, I have to be doing something else.

It’s a bit of a pain, really. It makes relaxing very difficult. I feel guilty if I’m doing nothing.

You’d think it would make me really productive, don’t you? But I get bored doing the same thing for too long at a time.

I’m not complaining – just making an observation.

Comfort

My number one goal is to become more comfortable in my skin.

I’ve never been completely happy with my looks. It’s a long struggle, and looking in the mirror isn’t my favourite activity. I’m working on losing weight, and there’s a bit of an improvement.

Then there’s my habits. Or lack thereof. I’ve never been Molly Homemaker, and I probably never will be. As it is, I live in a cluttered environment. And day by day, step by step, small amounts of clutter are disappearing.

And my social activities? I’m constantly in fear of saying the wrong thing, or being judged lacking. The fear of never being good enough perhaps really describes all aspects of my life.

One day at a time. That’s all I can do.

The title of my life would be “Girl; Confused”

I lived most of my young life in a home with parents who argued all the time. There wasn’t much money, and we rarely visited others, or had people in to visit us. I never felt comfortable in someone else’s home, and certainly never felt comfortable with anyone else in mine.

In high school, I never belonged to any particular clique. I was a reader, so while it bothered me a bit, it wasn’t the end of the world. I was happy to be included in things, but it certainly wasn’t the norm for me.

In university – I had a best friend. That helped a lot, but with no experience dating, and poor self esteem, I figured I would never find a match.

That changed in second year, but things were confusing again. I didn’t meet up to his expectations, and, sadly, we finally got married. I was your typical abused wife – didn’t know any better – and figured no one else would ever want me.

Several years followed, and no dates. My best friend and I drifted apart (although we do sometimes keep in touch). Finally, a work colleague set me up with her roommate (she loaned me his books). I am so thankful to her for introducing us. At long last, I am with my soul mate, and we have been happily married for over 26 years.

So – am I still confused. Yes. I don’t understand why girls are taught to have low self esteem. I don’t understand why we think that abuse is what we deserve. And I don’t understand why anyone would abuse another.

I’m confused, but I’m not alone.