...But I love making new friends. If you see me in a community or just want to be added, comment or add me and you'll almost certainly be added. I just wanted to keep the spam bots away. I'm tired of getting ads for viagra when I'm talking about my kids.

I post publicly at my website http://www.runningnekkid.com/ which is LJ syndicated at runningnekkidfd. That's where I try to do more writing writing, with varying degrees of success. I would love it if you visited me there, too.

I hope you're doing well. And if you're not, I hope that you have good people around you who can help make it bearable until you are well. Thank you for coming by.

I haven't been posting links to stuff over here like I said I was gonna. So here are some posts from the blog blog:

The Ghast (fiction): I creep through the corridor, fingers tight around the handle of my shingler's hatchet. The close walls are cool and damp; over the winter they'll be pelted with rain and hail and probably snow. The Assembly managed to find shingles to cover the slanting plywood roof, but there wasn't enough exterior paint in any of the neighboring houses. Just the satin interior kind that was good enough at first. It won't be good enough for much longer.

Mother's Day Recovery: The best Mother's Day gift we ever gave my mother was a bouquet of flowers sent to the hospital where she worked as a nurse's aide. The card read "Happy Mother's Day, love your ungrateful bastard children." Normally she would have been pissed that we hadn't come home for a big brunchy to-do, but because we sent her flowers! To work! We were at least a little bit forgiven. And she could show all of her coworkers the proof, in writing, that her children were indeed the ungrateful bastards she always said we were.

Left Of (fiction): She slid the flower behind her ear, its curling stem trailing down behind her earlobe. It tickled a little, but she didn't let him see her fidget.

Daughters of Silence: In the early years before we learned about sticking together, my mother's active abandonment pitted me and my sister against one another. We became invisible children, not quite furniture while the other sibling would be the temporary favorite. At first we naturally sided with our mother against that awful other, joining in her abandonment until some unknown atonement had been accepted.

So I've been trying to put myself out there; flinging my words at the internet and seeing what happens. It's an experiment. (Or that's what I keep telling myself so I quit rolling around on the bed weeping that I'm doing it all wrong. All what? I have no idea.)

Anyway, so part of putting myself out there this week has been to submit three of my posts to the BlogHer 2013 Voice of the Year.

 Read the full post here.

Also available at runningnekkidfd

His breathing was hot and rapid against her neck as his head pressed into her shoulder. The leak of his diaper spread cool wetness into her bare hands; into the fabric of her dry clean only uniform. She leaned into the door frame, rubbing one key after another with fingertips searching for a telltale texture. Tonight, at least, she didn't drop the entire ring.

Read the full post here.

Also available on runningnekkidfd .

I smiled, this made me think of moreover a matter again.That day, I because want to finish listenning to a broadcasting, the telephone bell rang I don't answer.Father wants to answer the phone, but his feet bind in the quilt, he fell down.I was really ashamed at that time.Telephone bell isn't loudly, can father but still lie over there, and loudly call way:"You had better flog heavily one more, don't let I white white the ground fall off here."

The vanilla hands Liu Quan, send he go to the hospital, but all of Lius insisted, sleep Be all right for several days.The vanilla knows that Liu Quan has no money.Oneself of the vanilla also has no money, she can not look for person to borrow again, the other people can't borrow, either, even if she opened mouth.Is helpless under, the vanilla has to to hand all of Lius to return to his house.

My thinking must be good and not good, the external world isn't that clear.I observe well with not good, the external world isn't that clear.I remember well with not good, the external world isn't that clear.Only the expression can display at any time, can be observed at any time and expose in the outside;So it is most easily appreciate, cried up, the encouragement influence of a kind of ability.

"Just as to know that you can not make achievement acceleration arrive you can not make the all flowers between countrysides expect first to bloom.Which pyramid isn't an using of a cake of a cake of rock to pile up?The impatient person is a what indigence!Which wound isn't gradual completely recovered?

"Your trip seems to be very leisurely and carefree!"The young girl stays calm and collected ground to answer a way:"Yes, the help of luckily a good heart person, I just can weigh the fun of enjoying the tour!"The young girl says again that" I am still a student now, originally has no the trip that money does fully enjoy.However one day, I ran into a man in the teahouse, he says to me, 'you spend a holiday in this kind of place can how not, I give you the fare, you choose that the place that you likes walks!"


I love this shit.

Hardly focused means that you are review give something specific. Do not pick a of inquiry on which you could think up non-fiction a book.

Instead of abortion, write almost a personal to local abortion clinic and its impact on the neighborhood. Preferably of the fuzz harassment, write about the behavior of the police on your hinder or in your reflex neighborhood. Focusing your matter cock's-crow and time resolution recover you duration by better directing your research. A focused point also leads to a focused paper. The just thing worse than discovering that you spent four hours at the library conclusion inessential statistics is putting that tangible into your distribute simply because you institute it.


(I mean, duh.)

(Well goodness, the song title seems really morbid in light of the events in Boston. Definitely not intentional)

Okay, so maybe selling our sailboat wasn't exactly a tragedy, but it definitely was a blow to the spirit. There's a metaphor, I think, to be found on the water; about depression and survival and finding a way to navigate the fluid expanse of life. About the slow going-ness of calm water and how much faster we get to where we're going when the weather seems almost treacherous. About casting off and leaving behind and coming back into port tired and quietly satisfied. Tacking and jibing and trimming the sails, letting the right amount of wind spill over them so you don't overwhelm your little vessel making its zigzagging way across the sea.




Lifelines - In More Ways Than One


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