The only way out is up.
The only way up is through.
The only way out is up.
The only way up is through.
Seeing them on the street, browbeaten women hunkered within awning nooks along downtown sidewalks, it frightens me to keep experiencing effects from the shove that insurance coverage severing my wage loss benefits has pressed upon me, when I have still been unable to work for income.
Feeling the brain injury getting worse before it (hopefully) gets better.
She could not rest until after the stars shifted past midnight, for any earler seemed tantamount to a white flag of surrender.

Sse the tree’s slanted, shy eyes as it hides its face behind fronds?
Externally presents;
Inside, unsettled.
And we
And she
And us
And I
Adverb. rough·shod. ˈrəf-ˈshäd. : with no consideration for the wishes or feelings of others.

I had my first invite to a movie in progress and might be getting to help with post sound production!

When hind brain is compressed, I become reactive.



I think this is my being’s need to isolate and contract around while expelling absorbed negative energy for deep purging – much like an exorcism.
What comes out of the mouth in private self-defense, rallying under pressure of having been recently assaulted, seems to revert to lowest common denominator – resulting in Tasmanian Devil cussing and wild gesticulation expressioning.
My retention of knowledge is based upon imagery and perceptual relationships.
I’ve been working on conveying my experiences through writing, but transferring directly from processing to speech seems inhibited.
Does this mean that I am by programmed default “nonverbal?”
Is this from head injuries, abuse trauma, and/or having to chameleonize for survival?
The anxiety experienced before and after externally expressing myself certainly seems to ward off attempts to overcome.
Innocence tends to easily trend, whereas the jaded must have proven why to re-extend.

By the powers invested and
Granted to every one of us
Daring enough to challenge
Coursing tides of oblivion,
May we each find our soul’s
Match to restore kingdoms.
It seems that much of society still behaves as if we are all still in elementary school.
Do you observe this, too?
The pain has returned, again.
It is so bad that I do not know how I keep from yelling.
Ups, downs – then turn arounds…
I have been graced with opportunity to again tutor women teachers-in-training.
Perhaps I got it wrong that I could help.
What’s the point to try when one can thrive better by contributing on their own terms?
Why relinquish independence and give others authority to marginalize my capabilities?
What others project upon us does not change the truth of our merit.
I can no longer take hits – and stay silent.
I took the blow, could not absorb it – so left the situation.
It sucks to get one’s heart stepped on.
Humiliation for being seen as dependent amd interrupting – when I wasn’t.
Being misread by assumption is painful.
Who was she to be, if not herself?
Spouting countermeasure cusswords in her self defense toward societal atrocities in presence of her most trusted confidants. yet dealing with beyond fairness to the world when it came right down to it.
“I need to state that your using the term ‘pride’ in this situation is completely inappropriate when addressing the real concern of potential permanent disability – and would suggest your being more neutral, if not more compassionate, to future clients in this regard.”