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She really shouldn’t make so many crumbs…

Crumbelina was a very pretty little girl with long curly hair and bright smiley cheeks. She lived in a big house near a dark forest with tall bumpy trees and long grass where wild purple flowers grew.

Every day she would go outside to walk around in the wet grass and play as she waited for the birds to come into her garden to sing their morning songs. She especially loved the red cardinals that darted into her yard to peck at the fat worms that came out of the wet ground.


An immortal finds -and loses her true love over and over.

Another day. Scarlett wondered what month it was. What year. It didn’t matter anyway. The sun came up. The night fell down. In between she slept in fits and starts. Sometimes she ate. Today the food tasted like cardboard. The coffee, too hot, burnt her tongue. She pushed the plate away.

Fourth day this week, she’d come to the little café next to the bookshop just off the main street. It would start as tingles in her fingers. Her feet would make their own way. She could feel her…

A coma patient wakes up after being ventilated for weeks.

We thought the old man wouldn’t make it. Not after putting him in a coma for three weeks. Three weeks, he lay flat on his stomach, three pillows underneath to force an incline and a wheezing ventilator pushing air into the ringed tube we threaded into his lungs.

He needed a shave but who had the time? I was between four sometimes five patients at once. Between the coughing and the endless bags of saline, and me holding my pee sometimes for eight hours straight, I didn’t know if to…

No one wanted Buddy, and his time was almost up.

I wish I could tell them, the people outside the dog cage. I daren’t call it my cage. I don’t want to belong to it. It’s a cage, cement blocks for walls, bare cement with a drain hole in the floor and rusted metal bars with a latch I can’t open. I’ve tried.

I want to tell them the floor is too cold. It pains my paws when the winter chill comes up from outside and makes the ground wet and it burns my skin. That’s why my paws are…

An exploration of spirituality and the forces that control the conscious element.

We are the heroes of our own stories. Our paths in life may take us upward, into enlightened action or, they may wind downward, into instinctual survival. We have access to both paths, and our every waking moment is spent choosing whether to go up or go down.

Let me answer the question before we jump in: Trump’s supporters did nothing wrong. Forgiveness is not required.

Don’t freak out on me yet, lol. I promise you’ll understand what direction you and others are moving in, spiritually, and you’ll know how to relate to those on different paths so much better…

What’s coming next? More footnotes in a pandemic.

I’m an immigrant, don’t own a gun, don’t want to own a gun either. But the neighbors…

If you’re anything like me, you’re exhausted. Doomscrolling till sleep comes and goes again. 2.00 a.m. has become almost the same as yesterday’s 9.00 p.m. Hours slip by, and I lie, dazed. What did CNN just say? Sanjay’s smile is slipping, more people are sick, some dying. Flip to Channel 13, DeSantis is on, and the map says cases of Covid are accelerating again.

It’s exhausting trying to figure out whether to buy more groceries…

Part 3 -The Psychological dimensions of your character.

Halloo gentle reader. Apologies for taking so long in between posts, there was/is a pandemic and I got caught up trying to survive. (haven’t we all? Toilet paper is still a nightmare). If you want to catch up, I’m building a character and so far, we’ve explored her physiological dimensions in part 1, and her sociological dimensions in part 2. This will be an exploration of her psychological dimensions for part 3.

I know, these aren’t entirely enough to round her character out, but it’s a good start. I may need to…

What to say when you don’t have the words. There’s a technique to say the perfect prayer, you probably already know it.

…You can actually tell the ultimate power, God himself to move in our direction.

I know you’re tired, I’m tired too. What’s right, what’s easy, what’s convenient and what’s wrong get blurred sometimes. Some days, we get lost inside our lives, inside the things we need to get done just to keep our hearts and minds together. We’re living inside our homes, but beside ourselves with worry. and one more thing just seems like one too many.


Footnotes in a pandemic.

I was taught to fight with words because words become swords if we don’t use them.

30th August.
It’s a Saturday and almost midnight. I can’t leave this alone, I’m driving myself crazy with too much thinking, too many ideas trip trap through my mind. That yesterday a seventeen year old killed two protesters with an AR- 15. I’m almost retired, and even now, I can’t imagine taking anyone’s life.

How could this happen? My gut tells me this kid was radicalized enough to wield disproportionate deadly force against fellow Americans - most of whom were…

Or, how to make critical decisions in a shitstorm.

The potential downsides are too much to contemplate without a bone deep chill that should remind you as it does me, we live in harmony only because of the strength, health and community we create for each other.

The CDC Director said yesterday, masks were as important if not more so than a vaccine. The President said the Director didn’t understand the questions put to him under oath. Who do you believe? It’s a binary choice, to wear or not to wear the mask.

Can you act without having to believe…


📝Not all who wander are lost. But I'm often lost wondering.

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