Reality

Trying to reason with your reality
Is like trading gold for dust
Life's too short for that insanity
If your brain's turned into rust

Never had much of a propensity
For holding onto grudges
I can't take such an intensity
From someone who never budges

So I'll dust off all my dignity
Try to hold my head up high
Then I'll shine up my integrity
Whilst you make up your next lie

Gratitude is the daughter of Appreciation and the mother of Joy

Gratitude unlocks the fullness of life
It turns what we have into enough
It turns denial into acceptance, chaos to order, confusion to clarity
It can turn a meal into a feast, a house into a home, a stranger into a friend
Gratitude makes sense of our past brings peace for today and creates a vision for the future
Melody Beattie

against all odds

J: I always feel a bit sad when I see young couples these days
M: Why's that?
J: Because I remember how it used to feel when you met someone new and felt so full of hope and excitement at what life might hold in store
M: Mmmn I know what you mean
J: These days when I meet someone I just think 'well this is going to end badly...' So far I've been right 100% of the time!

weapons of soul destruction

your words are like a virus
that's got inside my head
it zaps my self esteem
until I wish that I were dead
'you're stupid' 'you're a moron'
'you do everything wrong'
'you don't deserve to live'
are the lyrics of your song
you tell me I'm to blame
for everything not right
you fill me up with shame
for everything in sight
I try to defend myself
but your weapons find their mark
and I pretend I'm fine
but the light in me turns dark

just another day

There are no knights in shining armour

There are no gentle men

The fairy tales they feed you

All fantasies and lies
You lay down on a bed of tears
And send your dreams to hell

Call me cunt and whore and bitch

Just one more time I swear

And I’ll make you eat your words

till you're as sick of them as me

Trust is the daughter of Truth and the mother of Love

"Trust is the daughter of Truth. She has an objective memory, neither embellishing nor denying the past . . . her presence is subtle, simple and undeniable . . . Trust rarely buys round-trip tickets because she is never sure how long she will be gone and when she will return . . . She has a gambler's respect for the interplay between luck and skill: she is the mother of Love."

J. Ruth Gendler

You were born an original. Don't die a copy...
(John Mason)

Words are things

Words are things; and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think. —Byron

What happened?

What happened to your heart honey?
Did life just get too tough?
Did you forget to listen
When things got a little rough

What happened to our love baby?
Did it sink without a trace?
Did you think you wouldn't need it
When you couldn't find it a place

What happened to your soul sweetheart?
Did you just lose your way?
Did you think you had the answers
Or did all your questions go astray