Mutely Distinctive

5:59 AM ByFiled Under100 words, Writing

mirrorShe gazed sadly at the lackluster face staring back at her. In her reflection she could see what everyone else saw. She could see her flaws, the less than perfect complexion, the hair that never looked quite right and the body that was far from beautiful. In the mirror, she saw ugliness that was Darcy.

In the mirror it was apparent why everyone loved Danny. In the mirror, her imperfections were magnified, a glaring reminder of why she was undeserving.

Darcy hadn’t told her parents that she applied to Columbia. She wondered if they would even notice she was gone.

The challenge of 100 words is to write a post, using only 100 words. Velvet Verbosity is back and this week she challenged us with ‘Lackluster‘.

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Beautifully Convoluted

4:20 PM ByFiled Under100 words, Writing

rainJulia lay staring up at the bleak greyness that stretched across the late morning sky. She could hear screaming and sirens but everything was muffled – like she was listening underwater.

The sensation of rain spread across her face. The soft drops provided a calming distraction to the chaos around her. Julia closed her eyes, enjoying the velvety sensation. She was quickly lulled into a lurid haze, freeing her mind and giving her the impression she was floating.

When she opened her eyes she gasped as she looked at the contorted body laying below. Yet for once, she was at peace.

The challenge of 100 words is to write a post, using only 100 words. Velvet Verbosity is back and this week she challenged us with ‘Contorted‘.

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Strong Mom Party of One, Please

3:19 PM ByFiled Underlife, Writing

daboys

I am often outnumbered, in fact, I am always outnumbered. I am the sole female living in a house full of boys. Not that this is anything new to me. I grew up with a brother, had all boy cousins and lived in a neighborhood full of boys. Ironically, girls are a foreign entity to me.

But being a Mom to boys is not always easy. My vision of motherhood is often challenged and is nothing like what I envisioned as a young girl. Being a Mom to boys has its own crazy unwritten rule book. Rule Number One: There are no rules. There isn’t much of a learning curve either. You leave the hospital with this bundle of boyhood and hit the ground running. Will you stumble? Yes. Fall flat on your face? Oh yeah. Love them unconditionally even though they drive you to the brink of insanity? Absolutely!

Here is what I have learned so far:

  • The seat is never down. Never. Dreams of it ever being down again have long been flushed away.
  • Body functions are funny. If it comes out of the body – it’s humorous. Most days it is downright hilarious. It’s even funnier when it is inappropriately timed or in a public forum.
  • Duct tape becomes your best friend and a necessity. It can fix toys, accessorize swords and guarantees that your child’s diaper stays on through the night.
  • Your vision of you house smelling sweet and welcoming is replaced by outdoor musk and stinky socks.
  • This vision takes a cruel turn for the worse when your child enters tweendom and discovers Axe. *save me*
  • Your purse becomes a safe haven for random Legos, action figures, gum wrappers, special rocks they had to keep, athletic cups and anything else they deem worthy of keeping but not important enough to carry themselves. This by the way applies to everything they own.
  • You cute sassy purse turns into a huge canvas Mom bag.
  • You will have an in-depth knowledge of Star Wars, bugs, football statistics and all the noises you can make with various body parts.
  • You will learn that boys have invisible dirt magnets under their nails and no matter how often you wash and scrub them, they will be black again in minutes.
  • Your husband, sensing the testosterone filled house, will embrace his inner 12 year old and teach and/or encourage many of the above mentioned behaviors.
  • You will have bad days. Days when you will yell, say not nice things, things you regret. You will be tired, angry and frustrated. They will still love you.
  • Your boys will see you at your worst and still think you are beautiful and when you put on a dress they will say, “WOW Momma, you look pretty!”
  • It will be the best and most rewarding job you will ever have!

    •  Take the StrongMoms Empowerment Pledge

    ** I am participating in a blog campaign with One2One Network. I have not received any payment. All opinions, pieces of wisdom and parental transgressions are my own. **

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The Seeking Heart

12:25 PM ByFiled UnderWriting

darkness1[1]
A lone girl, desperate for acceptance and love but only allowed darkness. She was searching for light, but more importantly, she was searching for an ending. Death’s kiss promised that ending. Death enticed her with its wares, its beauty, its neverending peace. It made lavious promises of an infitude of light, an eternity of love. No longer would she be left, fruitlessly searching for a love they were not willing to give.

But when faced with the task – she failed. Yet another notch of incompetence, another glaring sign that she was undeserving of happiness. Even in the darkest of times she was not allotted even the tiniest shard of light.

Once again, she was alone.

 

photo credit

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Why I Write

12:38 PM ByFiled UnderWriting

journal

I often get asked why I write? Mostly by my boys, but I have been asked by others as well. With BlissDom around the corner (insert loud squee here) my writing heart strings are pulled tight. I can’t wait to surround myself with those who also hunger for words. Those, that if denied a chance to share the words tumbling around in their head would probably spontaneously combust. Google it – it happens.

For me, writing is a gateway to peace. A way for me to organize the creative life that lives within me. Nothing brings me more happiness than a new journal. Ok, maybe that first sip of coffee every morning is first but a new journal is a close second! The clean crisp pages beg to be filled, they long for words and verses and stories. It longs to be worn around the edges, the corners bent, the ribbon frayed. I carry journals with me everywhere and will often choose the physical act of writing over typing.

Writing gives me a place to escape, to verbalize my pain, bare my soul and create lives and stories for the imaginary people running around in my head. Writing allows me to breathe.

I would love to hear why you write, what scares you about writing and what is one thing you want to tackle with your writing. Always remember the words of Holly Gerth: “Be courageous and try to write in a way that scares you a little.”

You will be amazed at what comes from stepping out of your comfort zone!
 

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Remains of the Day

6:22 AM ByFiled UnderWriting

serene

Spirals of suds swirl slowly down the sink.

Currents of sunlight course through the curtains, catching flecks of cascading dust cavorting midair.

Steam slowly escapes from my coffee cup, enticing me to savor its first sip.

Words tumble onto the paper, transforming in tantalizing tales.

Silence surrounds me, embracing me like a long lost friend.

 

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Forever Searching

5:32 AM ByFiled UnderWriting

A lost little girl

Looks up with huge vacant eyes

Searching for answers

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Bound and Displayed

7:07 PM ByFiled UnderWriting

Darcy grabbed her purse and headed out the door, wondering what this Friday night had in store. She was on her way to meet up with some friends at the Neon Moon, an out of the way bar known for its stiff drinks and loud music. “Just what the doctor ordered“, she thought.

Climbing in her M5, she rolled down the windows, turned up the music and hit the gas. Lights streamed by as she sped down the highway out of town. She thrived on living her life with reckless abandon – always looking for a quick fix of happiness, even if it was for the briefest of moments.

Darcy had also resolved to not think about Jack tonight. His intuitiveness was striking a nerve and she wasn’t sure how she felt about their similarities or how close they were getting. While Jack was invigorating,  she wasn’t used to how she felt around him. Hell, she wasn’t used to feeling anything at all! Darcy had always survived by blaming others for her problems. Her short comings were never her own. It had always been easier to put the blame on everyone else than to see the true ugliness that lived inside of her.

She made her way to the door. The Neon Moon was already packed but Darcy had no difficulty finding her friends in the bar. Thankfully they had already ordered her a double gin and tonic. It was extra chilled and its smooth texture was immensely refreshing, especially after the hellacious week she had. She finished it within seconds and moved in for round two.

After several hours of talking and dancing, Darcy was finally experiencing a sense of calm. Maybe it was just the booze, but the feelings she didn’t want to acknowledge were skillfully pushed out of her mind. As she made her way to the bar for a refill a man she didn’t recognized grabbed her arm and spun her towards him.

“Care to dance?”

Darcy yanked her arm free in disgust. Did this guy honestly think she wanted anything to do with him? “Seriously?!? You have got to be kidding right?”

“I don’t kid. And if I were you, I would get your tone in check.”

With a huff of disgust she whipped back around towards the bar. “What – ever!”

The music was loud, reverberating through every crevice of the bar. As she pulled her wallet out of her purse she noticed she had five missed calls on her phone. Her heart instantly jumped as she saw all the calls were from – Jack. Trying to fighting the urge to not call him she succumbed to her inner voice and walked outside. With all the alcohol coursing through her veins she would be able to talk a big game, play it off like she didn’t really care. “I’ll show you I can take care of myself“, she muttered as she hit redial. But suddenly, as she lifted her phone to her ear, everything went black. The last thing she heard was Jack’s muffled voice,  “Hello? Darcy? Darcy?? Are you there?”

Her head was throbbing as she laid face down….. well, somewhere. Obviously she was over served last night. Where am I? As she tried to rub her temples a shooting pain seared through her body, yet she was unable to move. As she slowly regained consciousness she tried again, only to feel pain and resistance on her wrists and ankles. Holy hell! I’m hog-tied!!

“Care to dance now?”

For the Scriptic prompt exchange this week, SAM gave me this prompt: Hog-tied at the Neon Moon.

I gave Lance this prompt: Write about a heart that wouldn’t quit.

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Do you know the Miracle Man?

7:41 PM ByFiled UnderWriting

He quietly lurked in the darkness, just out of the light so as not to be detected. He stood there – watching. He was always watching. Waiting for the most opportune time to…. Hmmmm, just what does he do? What is he waiting for?

Some say he is a man of opportunity while others, well, others are not as generous in their use of words. One thing is certain – everyone knows of him yet few truly know him. While he enjoys his solitude most evenings, some nights he craves the affection of another. Some nights he wishes for companionship, a warm body to share time with.

Suddenly something catches his eye. A slight movement that brings instant intrigue. He pauses for a moment and wonders if it is worth his time. He was quite enjoying this special hiding place and was disheartened to give it up so soon.

He was instantly captivated by her. She moved slow and deliberate, not acknowledging his existence. This intentional obliviousness deeply pained him. But he had plans for her, plans that would make her realize he was there.

She paused in the street light, looking for something off in the distance. It was this thoughtless action that would cost her. It was this deed that allowed him to strike.

 

 

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Barren

7:09 PM ByFiled Underlife, Writing

This lassie’s brain is barren, blank, depleted, fallow and unproductive. I have sat down to write over and over, only to produce a whole lot of nothing. Some days I may get some random gibberish. Others I stare at the blank page, trying not to be intimidated by it’s blankness. But more importantly, I am tired. I need a break. I need to re-find my love of writing so it is not a chore. I’m not worried as this is cyclical for me. I often find myself living in ebbs and tides. Often, I struggle writing when there is just too much swirling around in my head. Right now there is a lot swirling. But soon the movement will calm and the words will come. Till then, enjoy the heat of the desert.

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