tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55455603969339301532024-03-14T02:52:26.006-07:00little bird blogsLittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.comBlogger132125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-5057718847122065942016-12-26T02:15:00.001-07:002016-12-26T02:16:04.545-07:00reconciling with myselfAbraham teaches that we get everything we want and that everything we have, we've asked for. It's all come by invitation. They teach that it isn't about where you were but where you're going and so telling your story isn't necessary.<br />
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There's a right way and I believe it. I can explain everything. There's a reason more than lessons. Nothing is a lesson. We aren't being tested. A shadow doesn't exist without the light it's cast by. Contrast is inspiration. </div>
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Still, I'm conflicted. I don't want to talk about the ways and whys that I hurt. I can live in appreciation, but how do I bury it all? I have gotten so good at reaching for better feeling thoughts that I've probably never been happier in my whole life, generally speaking, but my mind still wanders. I'm human. </div>
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I used to have dreams that L and I would end, that he would betray me and I would cry and scream and plead, question and curse him but he would stare at me blankly or shrug his shoulders. He was always cold, unapologetic and lacking any remorse. </div>
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When I woke up I'd tell him and he would get so angry - offended that because of how often I had them I must have truly thought he was a monster. The funny thing is, after years of having those dreams, that is exactly what happened and exactly how we ended. </div>
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I know that most people would be trying to find the lesson in it all. I haven't, instead I've tried to forget. What I believe is that if thinking about something doesn't feel good I need to shift my focus enough that I eventually forget completely. </div>
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I'm not interested in finding ways of being thankful for any of the 12 years I spent with him. I still whole heartedly believe it was all a waste, every second. The only thing I'm appreciative of is that I have proof of my gift - the premonitions.</div>
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So, the trouble I'm having is that I don't want to keep "telling my story" whatever my story may be at any given moment, whatever stupid situation I may be dealing with on any particular day, that reminds me of death, abuse, or my divorce... the things that I'm unable to live in appreciation of. </div>
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There is a lot I could say, I probably should have said and at the very least, deserved to say - to L, my father, my boss, and my abuser, but I don't, haven't and won't confront any of them. </div>
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I don't say things and maybe if I did it would start to feel better but Abraham also teaches us to take responsibility for ourselves and our feelings which means the only person we can expect to seek relief in is ourself. If I write it maybe I can forget it - I put it here instead of in a knot at the bottom of my belly and end the urge to look for comfort in confessions, apologies or explanations. </div>
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I mean, we'll see. </div>
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LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-44964253071766342932016-12-05T22:51:00.001-07:002016-12-25T20:03:47.210-07:00bridges and boundaries <center>
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Across the frozen Bering Sea is the invisible border </i></center>
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of two warring countries. I am loyal to neither, </i></center>
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only to the birds who fly over, laugh at the ridiculous </i></center>
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ways of humans, know wars destroy dreams, divide the</i></center>
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country inside us. Last night there was a breaking </i></center>
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wave, in the center of a dream war. You were there, but </i></center>
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I couldn't see you. Woke up cold in a hot house. Didn't </i></center>
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sleep but fought the distances I had imagined, and went </i></center>
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back to find you. I called my heart's dogs, gave them</i></center>
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the sound of your blue saxophone to know you by, and let them </i></center>
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smell the shirt you wore when we last made love. </i></center>
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I walked with them along the white sea, and</i></center>
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crossed to the fiery plain of my dreaming. We circled </i></center>
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the place; you weren't there. I found nothing I could see, </i></center>
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no trace of war, of you, but the dogs barked, rolled</i></center>
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in your smell, ears pricked at what they could hear that</i></center>
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I couldn't. They ran to me, licked the smell of the wet </i></center>
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tracks of your mouth from my neck, my shoulder. They </i></center>
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smelled your come on my finger, my face. They felt the </i></center>
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quivering nerve of emotion that forced me to live. It</i></center>
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made them nervous, excited. I loosened my mind's rein</i></center>
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let them find you. </i></center>
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I watched them follow the invisible connection. They</i></center>
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traveled a spiral arc through an Asiatic burst of time. </i></center>
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There were no false boundaries between countries, between </i></center>
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us. They climbed the polar ice, saw it melt. </i></center>
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They flew through the shimmering houses of the gods, </i></center>
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crossed over into your childhood, and then souls. </i></center>
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When they arrived in your heart's atmosphere it was </i></center>
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an easy sixty degrees. The war was over; it had never</i></center>
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begun. And you were alive and laughing, standing beneath</i></center>
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a fat sun, calling me home. <a name='more'></a></i></center>
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6 years ago I quoted that poem and today I have absolutely no memory of it; not the author, the book, the inspiration, the significance, ever having read it or ever being able to relate to it.</center>
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I needed to write it down again - it's hard to find in it's entirety. </center>
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Today it makes every ounce of sense it never could have back then. I'm so confused. How could I have forgotten something that would someday resonate more than almost any stranger's words ever have? Was I predicting my own future? Did I know something back then? </center>
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I don't know if I'm more amazed at how little I remember or by how much I've completely forgotten. </center>
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It reminds me of a boy I met not very long ago; a boy I walked away from despite our magic. I don't mean sparks and butterflies and "I hope he kisses me." magic. I mean that there was a familiarity and curiosity like I'd known him in another lifetime; he had the scars to match my own heredity, Fibonacci, law of attraction type magic. Despite, and eventually through the excitement of it all I started to see the cracks in his heart and a darkness I couldn't yield to. It might not have been as dangerous as it felt but I'm not the only one who saw the potential. Anyway, I'd mostly put him out of my mind until this morning and for some reason I thought of the bit of this poem that I'd only (re)discovered the other day, and it made me wonder... </center>
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None of this is to say that I'm sad - I'm not. God, don't take it that way. I'm happier than I can ever remember being. I'm also more aware of connections than I've ever been. Abraham says all relationships are eternal. If I close my eyes I imagine you're all these little points on a map, some more faint than others, and the cords are like highways leading in and around and even through some of you. I keep being shown these things, proof of it all. The Universe is giving me clues. I'm watching and listening. I'm paying attention. </center>
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No matter earthquake, or the breaking of love spilling over the dreck of matter</div>
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In the ether, stacking one burden</div>
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Against the other — </div>
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LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-53206969274760589882016-06-21T10:54:00.000-07:002016-12-25T08:40:41.191-07:00distractions I should be working. Instead I somehow found myself here, on my own blog reading my own history. For whatever reason, this one post stood out. I originally wrote and published it February 2011. Today it stands out but I can't decide if it still scares me or not. (I also don't know if this means I'm going to start writing again...) <br />
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i don't want to tell you anything.</div>
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if i speak it</div>
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it becomes truth.</div>
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because there's always truth behind what i say</div>
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if you strip the tone and context</div>
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you're left with specific words</div>
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and less or not,</div>
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their specific meanings.</div>
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there's danger there</div>
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beyond intention,</div>
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there's interpretation.</div>
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once i speak i've lost control.</div>
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i don't want to give you the power</div>
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or necessarily, the opportunity to react</div>
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for fear that your reaction will dictate my own </div>
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and strip me of my stillness. </div>
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LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-70611111376058209992015-08-01T10:55:00.001-07:002016-12-25T08:40:56.880-07:00I don't know what I'm doing <center>
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I'm not sure I'm going to continue with this blog, if I'll start a new one or if I'm interested in writing at all anymore. For now I'm going through and deleting a lot. I'm getting rid of the shit posts, the posts I published for the "blog community", the space fillers and certain reminders of my old life.</center>
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A lot can change in a year. A lot has changed.</center>
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LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-75241962626653017692014-08-18T13:19:00.001-07:002014-08-18T13:19:50.803-07:00Time for goodbyes... <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Tomorrow I'll be in New York, Brooklyn if you want specifics, my new home to be exact. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just as scared as I am excited. Arizona's been home for almost 6 and a half years. A lot has happened here but so much <i>hasn't</i> happened, the kind of stuff I know I'm meant for. </center>
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I never intended to be here this long but leaving places has never been easy for me, even when staying was the last thing I wanted. Time goes by fast & the older you get the faster it goes. It seems like last week I was 18 and yesterday I graduated college. Suddenly I'm an adult. Suddenly I'm closer to 40 than I am to 20. Suddenly it's 6 years later and still, here I am. </center>
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I don't know what's going to happen... I don't know what to expect. I do know that it's not going to be easy. I know that I'm going to have to bust my ass. I know that I have SO much support and that my best, best is giving up his couch and what little extra space he has in his studio apartment until I find a job. I know that I'm going to miss my friends and family here in Arizona like crazy. I know that if I don't do this now I may never do it and more than anything, that "What if's" are best when you treat them like "Why not's" </center>
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<span style="color: #e69138; font-size: large;"><b>Au revoir Arizona!</b></span></center>
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Thanks for the memories! </center>
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I'll see you again, hopefully later than sooner. </center>
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LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-34358595273299684462013-11-22T01:58:00.002-07:002013-11-22T01:58:15.530-07:00this isn't a peace offering <center style="text-align: left;">
but i need balance. </center>
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clearly i've slept on this. it wasn't intentional. </center>
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it never is. </center>
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<center>
<a href="http://s1089.photobucket.com/user/lilcarriebird/media/55aed85f-c5ee-4ae9-a868-463e1c972fc0.jpg.html" target="_blank"><img alt=" photo 55aed85f-c5ee-4ae9-a868-463e1c972fc0.jpg" border="0" src="http://i1089.photobucket.com/albums/i355/lilcarriebird/55aed85f-c5ee-4ae9-a868-463e1c972fc0.jpg" /></a></center>
LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-39601481820305283612013-05-27T02:18:00.000-07:002013-07-15T02:23:44.602-07:00One of my favorites<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4Lgn_GSJaUaTK0FIdVtemAUz5pLZQCiQF-sQ5Pshnl1fLPPLvcNnQgrAws5ANFQKbyp9Ul11zoG-7RtusjyAkeR1yk4fXlm5Hka68ZA0wiTaFpC3OhafERg4nMYyXq8_fM4UtsdNqSw/s1600/painted+treed+hawaii.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP4Lgn_GSJaUaTK0FIdVtemAUz5pLZQCiQF-sQ5Pshnl1fLPPLvcNnQgrAws5ANFQKbyp9Ul11zoG-7RtusjyAkeR1yk4fXlm5Hka68ZA0wiTaFpC3OhafERg4nMYyXq8_fM4UtsdNqSw/s400/painted+treed+hawaii.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Finally going through Maui photos.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Found these rainbow eucalyptus </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">along the road to Hana.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talk about an Enchanting Forest. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">*I'll post the rest this week. </span></div>
LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-84134827218503901312013-05-10T01:49:00.001-07:002013-07-15T02:28:32.814-07:00this happened<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFFdUkCPFMR_8WRWa7Ox8yqSLCaaPtXXjGvqSfTSV53T1OnXBgGF0TnvhqgylIKvH_c-tGIKCh8PEers3UuNJSjdoTwg_fAjUbbWdxSSgV5QUYeniarAXjR1L8h8K2P1ySEuDrL8NcCY/s640/blogger-image--536832336.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJFFdUkCPFMR_8WRWa7Ox8yqSLCaaPtXXjGvqSfTSV53T1OnXBgGF0TnvhqgylIKvH_c-tGIKCh8PEers3UuNJSjdoTwg_fAjUbbWdxSSgV5QUYeniarAXjR1L8h8K2P1ySEuDrL8NcCY/s640/blogger-image--536832336.jpg" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you're welcome</span></div>
LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-14225970764466530822013-02-10T19:58:00.001-07:002016-06-21T12:21:54.713-07:00i wrote this on my balcony <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">let's mourn us properly</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">let's wear our sadness heavy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">shake death out of love songs</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">refuse to be unmoved</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">we'll go back </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">despite ourselves</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">for the sake of love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">to shake us out of love</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">we'll feign catastrophe</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">like we didn't hide the land mines</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">or throw the hand grenades</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ourselves</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">like it was a tidal wave </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">or an earthquake </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">that caused our sudden heart break</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">like it was a tidal wave</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">or an earthquake </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">that caused our sudden hearts to break</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">i've never felt so doomed</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">as i do when I'm with you</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">*we'll be posting an acoustic of this later in the summer</span>LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-72493713396940771712012-12-05T02:31:00.002-07:002013-07-15T02:54:52.836-07:00true blue... <span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">thank you for being such an amazing person. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i hope you never forget who you are to me. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you're the best friend i've ever had and probably better than i deserve. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you are the most loyal, genuine and appreciative person i know. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you don't offer reminders just when they're needed</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">or because you're seeking reciprocation, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you offer because you don't want anyone to forget what they're worth to you. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you are completely unselfish with your love and loyalty and after all these years, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">despite how cold and unforgiving i can be, even through your hardest times </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and on your worst days you've always been there. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i'm not very good at talking about how i feel so you couldn't have known</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that what you said tonight is exactly what i needed. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">i'm not sure if you realize or understand the difference you make in my life</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">but i promise you with everything in my heart, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you make all the difference in the world. </span></div>
LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-14184097147030704982012-11-30T00:45:00.000-07:002016-06-21T18:26:44.480-07:00the consequence of our indifference <br />
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">we're going to die never knowing </div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">how it was really supposed to end </div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">so i put myself in every word you've written </div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;">close my eyes and pretend </div><div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px;"><br />
</div>LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-61579856270945181402012-11-10T00:06:00.001-07:002012-11-10T00:09:54.241-07:00weirdest daya girl walks into the store, puts her purse on the counter and says <br />
"you guys wanna see a monkey?"<br />
<br />
she is:<br />
a) carrying a bomb and this is a sick joke.<br />
b) a robber with a zany way to precede "this is a stick up." <br />
c) one of those clever pseudo homeless begger kids that hang around the ave.<br />
d) legitimately asking if we want to see a monkey.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
answer:<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC10ukHQ3E8lFuikkUgbeZr9P0tre93OxMKEKfGrgLX-dsfJHxe2bjLh9rDC5qDrhp_GA7ArOu0c1xMk1qLNLE9mX9m0yPSbkt9wpH8sW9JHXCcvUOUlflGDLXzQdaof5fgjBPf8xED5Q/s640/blogger-image-1613539826.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC10ukHQ3E8lFuikkUgbeZr9P0tre93OxMKEKfGrgLX-dsfJHxe2bjLh9rDC5qDrhp_GA7ArOu0c1xMk1qLNLE9mX9m0yPSbkt9wpH8sW9JHXCcvUOUlflGDLXzQdaof5fgjBPf8xED5Q/s640/blogger-image-1613539826.jpg" /></a></div>
LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-87836883847847175732012-10-29T23:49:00.002-07:002012-10-29T23:49:17.566-07:00night time It's late and I'm alone.<br />
The workers are working... loudly.<br />
I got scared and I came outside.<br />
The neighbors are fighting.<br />
Small crash and the lady yelled<br />
"God damn it Jake!"<br />
I swear I read that in a book once.<br />
My friends in New York are<br />
under water/ sound asleep/ running wild in the streets<br />
without me.<br />
<br />
:/LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-74887353385477224362012-07-11T01:30:00.000-07:002012-07-11T01:30:11.630-07:00knots<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMMk4acun1yiWpg0MsJwUHz8u1rR4Klrvz7jGoCMuLR9KprHlyubPDrPaX-STBHnRzozCK0mPmyebYDXw0ZSd8Fy65oes9OWvpYiFsMPRVj-d0n7cBg3JDEnZ8IDmz7jv0DESF0RI9Jfg/s1600/376566_10151075045575990_1327078649_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMMk4acun1yiWpg0MsJwUHz8u1rR4Klrvz7jGoCMuLR9KprHlyubPDrPaX-STBHnRzozCK0mPmyebYDXw0ZSd8Fy65oes9OWvpYiFsMPRVj-d0n7cBg3JDEnZ8IDmz7jv0DESF0RI9Jfg/s320/376566_10151075045575990_1327078649_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjornn3OMgFvaZBnttHmVsfty9nFhuIFyj8oqHOhWh3vqMvEbMslwHJa7aVnJFtWzw9jHv23T6gWz7Zau9RXGr9cn12iKIZvVpa-YcVggfGOzUKAv_bO-ahcRQkkDPnbsbGSZmAedGEmc4/s1600/knots.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="162" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjornn3OMgFvaZBnttHmVsfty9nFhuIFyj8oqHOhWh3vqMvEbMslwHJa7aVnJFtWzw9jHv23T6gWz7Zau9RXGr9cn12iKIZvVpa-YcVggfGOzUKAv_bO-ahcRQkkDPnbsbGSZmAedGEmc4/s320/knots.png" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-1893533451710667742012-07-03T00:50:00.000-07:002012-11-22T00:50:08.680-07:00its nothing<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">dangle the world in front of me, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">my view bends from far away.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">still your vacancy it haunts me, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">paper hearts are not the same. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">leave me stranded, hollow, waiting, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">your letter never came. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">you are vast and i am lost. </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">someone heard you say my name.</span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">& i wonder what that sounds like, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">vowels echoing through your bones, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">thick with love a desperate whisper, </span></div>
<div style="font-size: 12px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">will you ever call me home?</span></div>
LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-36441477482318462432012-06-30T15:45:00.000-07:002012-11-22T00:49:40.593-07:00be humble or be humbled<br />
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
i only know what you tell me and almost never assume otherwise, unless of course you tell me nothing. </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
i see that as your right to be held without expectation and in that case i'll exercise mine to assume the worst before entertaining the best. </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
(i'm not in the habit of giving credit until it's due.)</div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
if we're walking a two way street then touch<i>é </i>(though you're welcome to ask.) </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
but whatever you do don't challenge me to game of truths regarding who i am or how i feel. </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
while confrontation isn't my thing neither is sparing egos. </div>
<div style="font-family: Helvetica; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">
realize that you're waging war based on your best guess and when it's all said and done you're going to find yourself surprisingly embarrassed and utterly, heart breakingly disappointed. </div>
<br />LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-508236005113392492012-06-26T11:58:00.000-07:002012-06-26T11:58:32.439-07:00A Brief Attachment - Cate Marvin<br />
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
I regard your affection, find your teeth have</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
left me a bruise necklace. The lipstick marks</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
leech a trail, ear to ear, facsimile your smile.</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
Your 40 ounces of malt beverage, your shrink</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
hate, your eyes dialing 911. The hearts you</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
draw with ballpoint on my cigarette packs</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
when I’ve left the room, penned in your girl’s</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
cursive, look demented, misshapen approximations</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
of what I refuse to hand over. It’s a nice touch,</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
though: a little love to accompany the cancer.</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
My thought follows you to where you spend</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
your days lying in bed, smoking and reading</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
the Beats. The accumulation of clothes and ashes</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
circles you, rises like a moat after rainfall. </div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
You are a study in detachment – the trigger eye</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
is your eye, still as a finger poised to press should</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
one refuse to cooperate, and I wonder why you</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
hate men so much when it seems you think like</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
one. Think of what I could be doing outside if</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
I could unlock the door of myself: think <i>bikini</i>,</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
think <i>soda fountain</i>, think <i>tradition</i>, a day lacking</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
entirely your brand of ambivalence. If you were</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
a number, I’d subtract you; if you were a sentence,</div>
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I’d rewrite you. Are you the one who left these</div>
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wilted flowers, are you the one whose PIN spells</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
out H-O-L-E? Why are you wearing my clothes?</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
If you are weather, then I’m a town, closing down</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
at word of your coming: you’re a glacier on fast</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
forward, you’re direct as a detour, when I say</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
good-bye you move in next door. You say you</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
want to have my baby, you want to buy me a car,</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
and you’re too young to enter a bar. I should tether</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
you to a tree in the dark park, allow the moon to stroke</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
your white neck. I should give you a diamond collar,</div>
<div style="font: 15.0px Book Antiqua; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
walk you around the block, and show you off.</div>LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-69567035959685156552012-06-26T11:53:00.000-07:002012-06-26T11:53:25.683-07:00Postcards<i>I'm thinking about you. What else can I say? </i><br />
<i>The palm trees on the reverse </i><br />
<i>are a delusion; so is the pink sand. </i><br />
<i>What we have are the usual</i><br />
<i>fractured coke bottles, too sweet, </i><br />
<i>like a mango on the verge </i><br />
<i>of rot, which we have also. </i><br />
<i>The air clear sweat, mosquitos</i><br />
<i>& their tracks; birds & elusive. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Time comes in waves here, a sickness, one</i><br />
<i>day after the other rolling on; </i><br />
<i>I move up, it's called</i><br />
<i>awake, then down into the uneasy </i><br />
<i>nights but never</i><br />
<i>forward. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>A universe that includes you </i><br />
<i>can't be all bad, but </i><br />
<i>does it? At this distance</i><br />
<i>you're a mirage, a glossy image</i><br />
<i>fixed in the posture </i><br />
<i>of the last time I saw you. </i><br />
<i>Turn you over, there's the place</i><br />
<i>for the address. Wish you were </i><br />
<i>here.</i><br />
<br />
<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">-M.A.</span></i>LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-22422795471833126702012-06-16T23:22:00.000-07:002012-06-26T11:30:14.154-07:00i'm backmy trip was awesome<br />
i'm still so fully and completely in love with new york.<br />
that being said, as much as i wasn't happy about having to leave and come back to arizona i was really happy to be coming home. i've made some decisions (& some were inadvertently made for me)<br />
regardless of the hows, what needs to change will be changing sooner than later and what needs to remain will remain the same indefinitely. <br />
i swear you may think i'm a weirdo for saying so but if you pay attention the Universe is giving answers to questions before you even ask them.<br />
i'm sleepy and excited, not at all sad or heavy hearted.LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-37487162337292439452012-05-22T22:42:00.000-07:002012-06-26T11:36:20.595-07:00call it whatever you want<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx75fQk5muQotBAEPPmgNJuJYj0q4GwmrbzRb-qzGsUMafa_JQ4fm7YQGNCtgLQeHtMML5u52Q1V-nKYcNTFTPX9gMlOEuoPc8KL4fKAgki2aKd9Shvq87YihM9_Mwo8vEtQl1Otx713E/s1600/dickens.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx75fQk5muQotBAEPPmgNJuJYj0q4GwmrbzRb-qzGsUMafa_JQ4fm7YQGNCtgLQeHtMML5u52Q1V-nKYcNTFTPX9gMlOEuoPc8KL4fKAgki2aKd9Shvq87YihM9_Mwo8vEtQl1Otx713E/s320/dickens.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<i>that was a memorable day to me, </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>for it made great changes in me. </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>but it is the same with any life. </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>imagine one selected day struck out of it, </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>and think how different its course would have been. </i></div>
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<i>pause you who read this, </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>and think for a moment </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>of the long chain of iron or gold, of thorns or flowers, </i></div>
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<i>that would have bound you, </i></div>
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<i>but for the formation of the first link </i></div>
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<i>on one memorable day. </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: xx-small;"><i>-</i>page 66 </span></div>
<br />LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-13542725830963392592012-05-13T22:42:00.000-07:002012-06-26T11:39:28.350-07:00mother's day<br />
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today is mother's day and the same to me as most. </div>
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it's not one specific day that reminds me to miss my mom. </div>
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i miss her every day but there's not one that goes by that i don't look at myself and see her staring back at me. </div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
i could describe her, tell you all the things i remember about her but the list is long and i doubt i could find the words. </div>
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it isn't necessary anyway. if you know me, you have a good idea. </div>
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i am the subtle version of her. </div>
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she was smaller but stronger, more brave and less selfish. </div>
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she was sick with loneliness though and that's the only reason i can give you for why she's gone. </div>
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so in her life and death i learned that loneliness can destroy a person faster and more painfully than love or hate. </div>
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it's the one feeling that is as dangerous as it is pointless to indulge in. </div>
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pointless because there was one person who was supposed to stay with me forever and here i am without. </div>
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absolutely nothing can touch that. ever. so the worst is over. </div>
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i am me because of her. that's what keeps me steady. </div>
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my father says she would be proud and if anyone knows it's him. </div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
(i love you both) </div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDRw6Q9gNwQLukIOW01JrWgcsr6EmajIhuF8QMH0SHSnadbrQZ3c6WYaGh3FOJxV-B5-PQjs71kUNLrMQ5fggt4KNGB6djFCjwgrHaVWFcMcYDU6ZFT6yMknilCckwHh_w6zXS8KWLrvg/s1600/loveher.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDRw6Q9gNwQLukIOW01JrWgcsr6EmajIhuF8QMH0SHSnadbrQZ3c6WYaGh3FOJxV-B5-PQjs71kUNLrMQ5fggt4KNGB6djFCjwgrHaVWFcMcYDU6ZFT6yMknilCckwHh_w6zXS8KWLrvg/s320/loveher.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>though we leave the world apart </i></div>
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<i>i still went peacefully, quietly </i></div>
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<i>with you still firmly in my heart</i></div>
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<br /></div>LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-61770543342917239172012-04-22T02:02:00.003-07:002012-06-26T11:40:10.076-07:00whether it's a blessing or a curse<div style="text-align: center;">
i hope every single bird you see </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
reminds you of me </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCZnfKGGMfSsoZTyeZQSRhTIckHtFSKX7PbSRj5swpGl9v0X2393K_YkFBMYzZDueUOx5opNALG-LhdFA4BVcKlNASLqPDCTYfaz8pLOgtM0OyLWSKJaCMxfDv7OkMHtRUvjtgqAm-ps/s1600/tumblr_m2ku6pZRkZ1qzdiqvo1_500.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCZnfKGGMfSsoZTyeZQSRhTIckHtFSKX7PbSRj5swpGl9v0X2393K_YkFBMYzZDueUOx5opNALG-LhdFA4BVcKlNASLqPDCTYfaz8pLOgtM0OyLWSKJaCMxfDv7OkMHtRUvjtgqAm-ps/s320/tumblr_m2ku6pZRkZ1qzdiqvo1_500.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-65275537734504606502012-03-29T03:46:00.001-07:002012-03-29T03:49:33.552-07:00januarythe fires in hell are out<br />
and the bridges burn but no one's watching.<br />
stale oats...<br />
the moths can have what's left.<br />
i wish i could say<br />
it was a car crash<br />
but nothing came so sudden<br />
and the only tragedy is that there is none.<br />
<br />
you are sun bleached and fading.<br />
i just got so bored of waiting.LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-39881139200384921132012-03-27T00:53:00.001-07:002012-03-27T00:53:33.486-07:00truthmy magic is only surpassed by my sass. don't belee me? ax my frenz. they know. LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5545560396933930153.post-41765823323498834642012-03-23T00:04:00.000-07:002012-03-23T00:04:41.838-07:00real love is<div style="text-align: center;">sharing your popsicle</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnbSEpYujNrANqnz3DxcwxGSBfFHx515XNXC8kAzoELY8M9qFOAFmBFqhEozVyrxOjI7zXrU0UYgtmg3I9PN4KMCPaKtv4eIetbLyWLFyN-BI-220xMMrqazAQEsAD4rK4IdfwFtK5-wA/s1600/sharing+.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnbSEpYujNrANqnz3DxcwxGSBfFHx515XNXC8kAzoELY8M9qFOAFmBFqhEozVyrxOjI7zXrU0UYgtmg3I9PN4KMCPaKtv4eIetbLyWLFyN-BI-220xMMrqazAQEsAD4rK4IdfwFtK5-wA/s320/sharing+.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>LittleBird http://www.blogger.com/profile/06079692805653247530noreply@blogger.com0