For some reason it seems to be about making statements. Every one, maybe every thing, has their own statement to make to their own version of the universe. No one could really say “I came, I saw, I conquered,” because as someone else observed, “there’s many a slip tween the cup and the lip.” Now I’m talking crazy, huh? There’s room in there for that, too. Each wants to avoid hurt. Some fare much better than others. Here I be. I be me.
Basking in the Triumphs and Frustrations of a Disability
Kreativ text, annorlundaskap, dikter, bipolaritet, Aspergers syndrom, samhällsdebatt
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Poetry of a changing Earth. The grief is real--so is the hope.
Spouse trainer, motherhood survivalist, bread enthusiast... overall great person.
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"Traveling and Retired"
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Bringing passionate genius to the foreground in Athens, GA -- 2013-2019
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Tigers not daughters
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Poetry for Finding Meaning in the Madness
Love this post – and the photo.
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