via Father Of One Of My Kids… — A Momma’s View

A deeply felt thank you to my dear friend Old Punk.  Your keen eye, wisdom, sense of humor, endless compassion and well-timed kicks in the ass mean more me than I can ever express.

I know that I apologize too much

for the things I say

for the things I write

for the things I do

for not caring enough

for caring too much

for bleeding a little too much

on the screen

for breathing

for existing

past the age of 30

which I never envisioned happening

and that I don’t feel that the universe

quite approves of

and may still demand retribution

I am trying to stop apologizing

for anything and everything

and instead start expressing my gratitude

when you listen

when you read my words

when you forgive my actions

accept the caring I do have to offer

hand me the bandages

allow me the space to breath

encourage me to keep existing

Venue: Blagoevgrad, Thessaloniki and around

Lens: Sigma 35 mm f/1.4

Music: Christos Kyriazis – Epimeno (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EzVGYjVMhkU)

Thessaloniki, or as Bulgarians call it Solun, is the main city in North Greece and is only a 4-5 hour drive away from Sofia. This makes it a perfect long weekend destination for Bulgarians that want to enjoy some great sea views and food. Strangely enough I myself had never spent much time in Thessaloniki and I’m glad I had the chance to go there in the first days of spring. The population of Thessaloniki is a bit less than a million people making it very lively and culturally eventful place that in the same time is not too big to be hard to navigate around. It is a typical Mediterranean city that reminded me a bit of Naples and Barcelona, but with the slight twist added by its position on the Balkan peninsula. Probably most importantly of all (for our purposes here) Thessaloniki is just amazingly…

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(The scary, mechanized, Hindu, Baby-Doll Deity is by Michael deMeng)

Did I write that?

Writing is terrifying. When I tip-toed into blogging just over a year ago I hadn’t found my voice yet. Words came out like rush hour into an emotional traffic jam. Being introverted doesn’t help. I’m terrible at giving myself permission to be a real person who occasionally sucks at everything but writing seems to help which is why I keep doing it. If I were writing about gardening or what I had for lunch every day maybe it would be easier but instead I felt compelled to write about life, trauma, recovery and every awful memory from my childhood. What the hell was I thinking? Do you ever feel like that? Have you ever looked at what you’ve put out there and thought, gross. Why? Noooooooo! It’s a feeling like cutting your bangs too short on picture day in middle school. Dear younger me: die…