Dying Roses

I'm sitting at home. Alone. Looking at the flowers I bought for myself weeks ago that have since wilted but not lost any of their beauty...listening to Johnny Hartman and John Coltrane while smoking a cigarette (I do once or twice a year) and eating a doughnut (laughing). And I just thought to myself, "I'm that person."  The one in the horrendously boring but beautiful sequence at the beginning of many indie films. And I'm completely content with that. Smiles.
I hope that you all are doing wonderfully, and have much better stories to share than I do at present.
Cheers
ND

PS...this was the time I've segmented to attempt running. I don't think that's ever going to happen....

Making Peace

I used to hate myself. Couldn't stand the way I looked and struggled with how 'sinful' my thoughts were. I used to think I was completely past love and redemption. Which is kind of funny that those thoughts for me went hand in hand.
Very gradually, I've learned to accept who I am politically and as a woman who swears like a sailor and likes to...well fill in the blank. But it wasn't until very recently that I've become okay with the way I look.
I know it's probably entirely trivial to everyone else, but I had an aha moment today. I finally like me.
I no longer hate how large my posterior is...or how my lips take up 90% of my face...or my flat nose...or anything else for that matter (aside from how dry my skin is at times...making it necessary for me to have pedis more than the average person...who wants to curl up near an aligator?).
The way I came to this was entirely illegal - and I'm not ashamed...nor do I feel I have need to be! I have learned so much in this short period of time and have become a little less jaded about life that I feel it's entirely right for me at present.
Smiles

The Painted Lady

We, each of us, wear a mask
Concealing in some way our souls.
Some are more brilliant than others
With the blues and purples and golds...
We cannot be harmed should this face be put forth.
Sadly, however, it shows not our worth.
And, in the end, we're in further than planned in this life that is not really our own.