Please don’t talk about love tonight.
Please don’t talk about sweet love.
Please don’t talk about being true
and all the trouble we’ve been through.
Ah, please don’t talk about all of the plans
we had for fixin’ this broken romance.
I want to go where the people dance.
I want some action … I want to live!
Action … I got so much to give.
I want to give it. I want to get some too.
Oh, I … Ohhh I … I love the nightlife,
I got to boogie on the disco ’round, oh yea.
Oh, I love the night life,
I got to boogie on the disco ’round, oh yea.
Life is a theory full of hypotheticals and possibilities; an equation whose answers are infinite; and a battleground we soldier thru to fight for the things of beauty. Most things and people are broken but fractals are amazing. We take a little of everything— the joys and pangs to create an honest whole, a flawed perfection and that’s what you are… I am. I love every scar on your soul, because I read once no one can be brave if they’ve only had wonderful things happen to them.
“Electric communication will never be a substitute for the face of someone who with their soul encourages another person to be brave and true.” —Charles Dickens
I see those wounds and I know “That’s a person who will fight for our friendship to sustain” and no matter what happens in our lives I can count on you for support, nurture, and love. We live in a fickle world often governed by fear and uncertainty. So many rough tides turn up fair weather friends… but not you. Others can count on you when the world is at their back to roll up your sleeves and dig in the trenches. I appreciate you and I’m better for you in my life. You don’t rush to “group” thought and if the crowd went bridge jumping, you’d be somewhere off to the side with me laughing. If you don’t know that or understand your value, it isn’t a reflection of you but that I need to step my game up. See the thing is, my life with have a huge chasm if you weren’t there. You Matter. Plus I don’t know where I’d find another you, you’re pretty damn irreplaceable. Trust me, I looked and knock offs are so fake and unreliable. He was wearing colors and saying he was my brother, definitely was not as intelligent— huge mess! All retarded with defects like the first clones. I found damage control in a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a match though.
Today I told someone my thoughts were like lulls in an ocean. I find myself, occasionally rendered speechless with the depth of what I think. He said I was too quiet. Beneath my calm, I thought of everything and I couldn’t stop talking and expressing and feeling. I felt I had too much to say, but everything I wanted to say felt inadequate or not enough… so I said nothing, nothing at all.
This space of serenity is within me. I am also my storm. I am my reward. I have made friends with solitude. I’ve made amends with myself. For almost a year, I’ve been in the process of great change. There are mirrors everywhere I look. Everyone and all things living show me myself. So who am I not to love or forgive anyone? I am in the midst of grief and reflection— I believe I have been the caterpillar inching forward with a hump back. Heavy burdens that protrude with each step as I’ve climbed and sought refuge from my inner demons. I’ve felt helpless and alone; fearful and tired; empty and bitter. Growth it seems is not without pain. I’ve fed myself knowledge to expand and fill the holes disappointments and setbacks have created. I’ve become a bigger person, a better me. I’ve even found beauty in my ugliness and mistakes.
I’ve shed a skin.
I believe we become adults in stages and today, Gladney feels a newfound gladness and freedom. I’m reveling in me. Perhaps that sounds silly or obnoxious but damn, I feel good! Smiling for no reason, smiling for being. I’m laughing out loud unexpectedly like my joy can’t be contained as a simple notion. I am a woman fully grown. I accept accountability for my actions thus far and those that will be committed. I own all of me. So that I may live truly and fully. Yes, a black butterfly. A monarch. A matriarch of truth, wisdom, & love. I lay to peace those who have brought me hardship or pain. And maybe in that, I’m selfish because I do it for me to be free.
I grew wings
Make love, not war… there are crimes of passion we commit even to ourselves. I destroyed parts of my being because I’ve feared being hurt. I’ve been so strong, I couldn’t be weak. I have found it hard to trust because I didn’t want to be let down. I was screen door, open with a layer of protection. I was crippled, but now I’m whole.
Have you forgiven yourself for not being perfect?
Filed under Grow, Love, Nurture
I was reading a good friend of mine’s blog and stumbled across this video. I had to jack it since I couldn’t go to sleep without watching it 3x. It has made me feel quite jubilant and bubbly. Which leaves me to:
1) Go and check out Elle Sessions, you can also find it in my blogroll as well. Besides having the voice of a nightingale, Ms. Winston is one of the most fashionable persons I know. If that wasn’t enough, she epitomizes what being classy is all about. Matter of fact, the more I think of it if she wasn’t my friend I wouldn’t like her, lol! Kidding but she IS that fabo and talented! Don’t believe me see for yourself… Be sure to subscribe to her youtube page as well, for future goodies!
2)Eartha Kitt’s incredulousness is hilarious and her fearlessness is admirable. I felt it was beautiful and insightful what she said. Yes, indeed perhaps that is my issue that I want someone to share my love for me with me too Ms. Kitt. This isn’t “Marcus darling” or “Santa Baby” she’s talking about love without the rose colored lenses. Unyielding and unapologetic. I think I just found a morning hero and have Elle Sessions to thank for it.
I’m trying to move
I’m said I’m stuck!
My feet caught up…
in this love
and all of those jagged shards
around my feet.
I’d walk out the way.
but I’m ‘fraid of being cut.
You know you never quite heal
Achilles is torn.
Kimberley Gladney ©
love was on the way
think it got lost
with no compass
maybe ran into hate
they always fight
but no one wins
they’re so much alike
very much the same
with everyone using their names in vain…
and I think love got lost
taken like so many of our child like fantasies
replacing imagination with reality
dream killer of happily ever after and we
like a childhood story
the tortoise and the hare
but there is irony and a twist
the plot be syrup thickening
and love came quick…
until it was cinched
and the tail end always leaves little to be desired.
there is nothing lucky about chopping off a foot to save oneself from doom
and the heart is boxed in
then hate come slowly, steady, creeping, inching, moving forward.
We forgot he was running too
as we forgot what we were running to.
But we watched him cross the finish line.
——————————————————— F ———————————————
Kimberley Gladney ©