I have had this book idea for about 3 months or more and I struggle every day trying to expand on it. (One of the reasons I haven’t been blogging. I’ve been writing elsewhere.). Tonight, I was able to break through the stone walls of writers block and surf the rainbow of imagination. I am only in pre-writing stages, but I plan to make it a short story. So, with that in mind, you can help. I am looking for first and last names that are french in origin. Comment your suggestions if you wish to help a fellow writer! Au revoir!
If you have been following me, you will notice that I changed my site name from “The Invisible Child” to “Siren’s Call”. Some may be wondering “why?”
First, it is important to know that I am struggling with alot in my life right now, which was the sole purpose for this blog. Though I hoped their was someone out there who would read what I had to say, I just needed to write it.
“The invisible child” represented only that dark side of me so I never felt like I was able to write anything else. Though, I write better when I am wrought with pain, I do have other ideas and thoughts to share. “Siren’s Call” will represent everything I need to say or want to say and the title is just as it says. It is a call for a listener. I hope those who follow me will continue to and I hope those who are reading this for the first time will enjoy what they are in for. Take care, everyone.
I found a quote on Pinterest. It said:
“If you can’t stop thinking about it, don’t stop working for it.”
Yes. This is supposed to be a an uplifting quote to help a person move forward in their life and succeed, but what if the subject is toxic? What if the topic or issue that the person in question is pondering upon is detrimental to their mental or physical health? Why should they work toward it? This quote to me is misleading.
What are your thoughts?
What would you do if you were a telepath?
Would your wonders of the world decrease?
The power you have can you use it to no avail?
Like a never ending handicap
Your enemies you may disarm
Causing irreparable damage
“It won’t be long.” She said. “Soon things will change. I will pass and once again you will have to learn to live without my presence.”
I sat beside her in silence as my hands trembled in fear of the future that is to come. She lightly placed her hand on my shoulder as tears graced her face. “Don’t worry kid. I’m afraid too.”
I lifted my head and gave her a small smile. “It is just…I will miss you.”
At that moment she wrapped her arms around me and pulled me in tight. “Just remember. There is always one place I will always live…your heart.”
Do you…see me? After all, I am your own flesh, blood and first born.
Things used to be different. I used to feel appreciated and loved by you. Now I feel like nothing, but an afterthought.
You come through those doors and I look up to greet you, but you never look happy to see me. So what do I do?
I chase after you into the kitchen and sit at the table as I watch you unpack your belongings and try to make conversation..even small talk.
Our words die and we part ways until a common entity calls us together once again.
I often spend time in solidarity. I am sure you contemplate as to why.
Every time they awaken you from your daze, you answer. You are alert and interested to them when they request your attention even if they just wish to tell you about their day, upcoming events, or accomplishments or to complain about a rough situation.
Why am I different? Is it because I am disabled? Am I such a strain that even the mere thought of my voice produces a cringe upon your face?
Maybe it is because I am the academic failure. Surely you would rather hear about the success of an engineer rather than a failed musician.
I know. It wasn’t my fault and that’s what you’ll say.
I know I have limitations……
but that is all you see. You are incapable of noticing the dreams, talents and passion I am capable of.
Listen to my words and my feelings. You once requested I speak to you, truth. Now I am invisible. nothing…but a being who takes up space in your home.
See me. See me. SEE ME.
Be immersed in a colorful, contrasting part of your own life. Me.
I am different, yes. Though I am capable of great things.
See me. See me. SEE ME.
“I think about my mom’s note all the time – “Tell Meredith not to…” Not to cave? Not to care? Not to give up so easily? Not to fall in love? Not to have children? Not to tell a lie? She left me wondering what to do, what not to do. She left me knowing everything was up to me, and me alone. And, she left me with no one to ask so I would decide what she meant to write. Tell Meredith not to be afraid. Goodbye mom.”
-Meredith Grey/Grey’s Anatomy
I think about you daily
the things you’d do and say
I think about you until the night
And all along the day
And when it seems like all is lost
I gaze up at the stars
searching for honest answers
heeding words from …afar
This poem is dedicated to my Aunt Marie who passed away from Cancer at the beginning of March. I miss her and think about her often.