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note to self: it’s okay to be a writer

Your quiet is good.

Your reflective is necessary.

Your words encourage someone.

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Obsessed with personality quizzes? Me too.

[Warning: quizzes referenced in this post may contain offensive questions, grammar, spelling and logic.]

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idylls of the cat, or, a brief study of self-centeredness

Sometimes, I think that’s the thing. It's a base instinct: If I don’t fight for my space, if I don’t yell loud enough and long enough, someone else is going to get what’s mine.

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it’s never too late to plant seeds

Sometimes lessons are late and awkward, but we teach them anyway because better late than never is more serious with life than with sweet peas.

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because people do change

34 year old me is desperately jealous of 44 year old me.

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pride, part two . . . or, a sampler of thoughts on arrogance

Sometimes, my "better than" comes from wounds. Maybe yours does, too.

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a swift current of sorrow

I am exhausted from swimming in and out of the current. I long for a boat of bliss, to float above grief, to get out of the river.

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repost: a light between here and there

the Grandma I wrote about in this post passed away today. she was an example to me of a love that endures at a time when I needed it most.

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of pride and pompousness, part one

maybe love does not boast means I don't need to prove how much I deserve love

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how do I envy? let me count the ways . . .

Envy is hardest when all is wrong. When all the world has spring and you have winter. Endless, endless winter.

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