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wish. u. well.

wish. u. well.

I wish I had a wishing well
I’d throw a quarter in
I’d sing a chant
I’d cast a spell
just to see you win

I wish I had a wishing well
I’d throw a dollar in
And as the water soaked it well
I’d see you smile from within

If I could make you well I would
If only it were gin
You’d drink it down
And never frown
in my wishing well within

A smile, a phrase
A never ending gaze
I know that I must stop
This I wrote for you in praise
Of all the magic felt

I wish I was a wishing well
I’d give you countless wishes
But first I’d ask you wish you well
Then follow you in stitches
All your wounds be healed and fell
Upon your gaze I’d cast
A smile of eternity
If only you were well:)

“I Want You to Be Happy Day”

Today, March 3, 2014, is “I want you to be Happy Day” as well as “Grammar Day,” not to mention “Holy Experiment Day.”  So I ask, what do these three special events have to do with one another?  

 

Honestly, i have no clue.  I could make up some abstract reason why they are correlated but I doubt it would make sense to anyone but me.  Do I see a correlation, yes.  Could I make a connection, yes.  But rather than drag on about Grammar Day (which I actually despise, because of a traumatic encounter with an English teacher in High School that scarred me and my writing talents for life!) which is completely correlated with penmanship, another failed disaster in my aging life, I will skip this awful holiday and focus on the other two.

 

“Holy Experiment Day”–I buried my Grandmother today.  Shivering at her gravesite where she would be forever laid to rest with my Grandfather.  I wonder what the point of it all is.  Do the lifeless bones have any purpose other than make space for a tombstone that says, “Yes, I was here, me and my love.”  I suppose at the coming of the Resurrection their bones, or what’s left of them, will rise to meet their souls for the Final Judgement.  Will they become an army?  An army to fight off evil, under Archangel Michael’s command?  An army to defeat the dark forces of Satan and reign in God’s supreme justice and righting of the world?

 

Honestly, I have no idea.  But it sounds interesting:)

 

Let’s focus on I want you to be happy day.  I hope my Grandmother is dancing in heaven with my Grandfather.  How they loved to dance.  I hope my Grandma and Grandpa on my maternal side are playing piano and singing show tunes.  I hope my beautiful little sister is frolicking in heaven looking down upon all of us with a smile on her face as if she’s harboring some beautiful secret that she cannot wait to share.  I think of the Oscar award winner for best supporting actress.  Her speech last night was amazing.  She ended it by saying, “No matter where you are from, your dreams are not in vain.”  What a beautiful statement of hope from a woman that had achieved the “joy of her life.”  If we can remember the happy times more than the sad, the wicked, the grueling times…we are surely blessed.  

 

Happiness starts from within.  An inspirational tool for change.  Once you find your happiness it would be a deadly sin not to share it.  I try to wish the best for people.  To not be selfish.  To achieve my aims whist making room for other’s aims.  Causing pain is not an appetite I wish to indulge.  So I say on this day, “Be happy my friends and consorts and acquaintances.  Life is way to short sometimes to harbor grudges, hold on to past hurts, soaking in depression.  Take heart and know that you are loved.  By many, by me, by yourself.”

 

Happiness is an inalienable right.  Our founders thought so, and lest we not forget that.

 

Happy I Want You to Be Happy Day!

with or without you – w4m (belmar)

Did you ever realize belmar scrambled is marble? 

I feel morrible when I yearn for you and you’re so far away.
I feel like I’m living in a muddle.
I feel like I wish I was the one that could make you mappy.
I hope I melped you with your current mituation.
I hope you get mell.

I miss you moo much!

Hooting Owl

An owl just started hooting as I started this missed connection. It’s saying, “be wise.” Apparently I have no wisdom when it comes to you because you are my magic feel. Yes, magical feelings I don about you. It makes no sense at all on this
plane called TIME. We’re outliers, you and I. I’m sure we could find some function that would allow our love to exist beyond a two dimensional graph. I miss you all the time. I’m sorry I pushed you away. My general distrust of males made me do it. I write here in the aftermath because you are my lovesong. Perfect, unending, and crescendo. Don’t be my dissonance…

On being a “fatty”

I have found that being skinny doesn’t always make you happy.  Being a fatty doesn’t always either.  There is a moderation that comes to your mind…it’s called “mindfulness”…a moderation that is purely mental.  It’s a state you encounter or live with where you realize you want the world to see you for your inner beauty, your soul, that radiates and permeates every soul you encounter.  

I used to have low self-esteem.  But I have found my esteem being fat regardless.  Isn’t that odd?  It stems from self-worth.  Am I not worthy because I can’t fit into my size 6 petite dresses and jeans anymore?  No.  Fat offers me some protection from shallow men who would rather see me fittheir perfect image of what I should look like in their eyes.  Honestly it freaks me out.

I’ve decided that if I choose to lose weight, I want it to be for my health and self-love rather than to attract some male and make him want me.  It’s so discouraging to see women suffering, garnishing eating disorders and airbrushing, to fit into a society that dictates women should look like barbies or Disney princesses.  How many women are told, “it’s okay…I’d rather you look like a care bear?”  No, it’s 27 inch waists.  Boob jobs and the perfect ass.  

The funny or not so funny thing about it is I have a double standard for men.  I’m not into heavy guys, short guys, guys with no hair.  I guess I’m an asshole then.  Or a hypocrite.  But that’s okay.   We all have our preferences.  Whether it’s hard wired into our DNA, or socially constructed, I accept it.  

I suppose I should  accept the fact that I’m not perfect and I’m only human.  And accept the fact that most people are the same.