Saturday, November 28, 2015


I am just sitting here, kissing tini on the forehead, and thinking about what I invest my time, love, and money on.

I spend a lot of time alone, on the kitties, a house that's not mine, and hours writing and singing to myself.

Will I be paid back in anything but instant gratification and happiness?  Will I enter the next 20 years of my life and find out I should be married with my own house and a savings account? Or is this all going to work out fine?

Up till now I have not been able to look at the future. Right now I know I'm happy with the Duncan style family that  I have. But what about tomorrow? What decisions will I have to make for the future based on the ones I've made so far?

Friday, November 27, 2015

We are not afraid

Today I was listening to a new agent on the phone, probably had never done anything like this  before, she sounded terrified. I said to myself "oh little one, there's nothing to be afraid of, you just jump in and have a conversation with a new friend"

And I thought about all the singing and story telling that has scared the poop out of me.

Is fear that easy to calm? When I get up to sing in front of people next time do I just  think of it as a well rehearsed conversation?

I don't know yet if it will work, but it's worth a try.

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Silent Voice Speak

The question
Is a big one
Why do I keep going?
Keep getting up
All the days
And live?

Will I stop that journey...
And just give up?
One one of those days
Or will 80mg of Prozac
Keep me wondering
What is on the other side of tomorrow
Will she be brighter
Give me the answers
I'm looking for...

Why all the days?
Am I the only one who feels like this?
Do people without depression
Wonder why they keep waking
Why they say yes to the orange juice
And newspapers and keep going

Their silent voices
Pounding palms
On the glass ceiling
Begging to be set free.

I tried freedom
Let the voices run
In the dark allies
Of the theatre
My intuition
Too great
The heart too sad

And so I wrap your self
In a blanket
Drive to the country
Let long walks
And days of writing
Let the silent voice speak.