Author: Candid Corvid Productions

Finding that I am hitting blocks in my ability to flex both emotionally and physically, I must seek new methods and supports to overcome my newly found insecurities.

Being aware enough to know that one still has so much to learn.

When one thinks their capabilities might not be enough, self doubt can wrap around their ankles, slowing and tripping their efforts.

I tend to triangulate before committing to certain situations.

Finding ways to heal by simplifying yet amplifying where one can gain ground is challenging.

We pretend we are certain ways to emulate certain ideals and to gain approval.

Whether the approval must come from within or the external is a focal point with which we struggle.

When I went back to retrieve my dragon from its hibernation on the mountainside, I checked inside the trailer home as my father requested to ensure it was ready for the new tenant.

To my sadness, I found one baby mouse, dead and dessicating, curled up alone in the emptied living room.

We had managed to save our family, but I had not been there to ensure its freedom from the bathroom sink pipeway’s ensured indoor captivity.

When you are or are becoming something, it is hard to qualify and quantify its value.

Will you love me then, for that brief moment, before you discard me because I am human again?

Whether or not one has in the past been a victim, if one’s nerves are being compressed and twisted longterm without relief, then a complex develops.

How the backwards impact from the horse accident torqued my neck forward created compresion adhesions along left anterior cervical spine.

This caused a crimp just where the vagus and diaghram are innervated (= stress flares, blood pressure elevations, and breath constriction) and is the focal point of inflammation and migraines.

As I witness another man choosing his mate for their youth and popularity, it is no wonder the demise of our society as the wise and mature are passed over.

The coin of positivity allows the situation of “relegated” to be flipped to the perception of “I get to,” thereby giving any thwarted desire or venture a new slant for accessing what is still given as “opportunity.”

However, the other side of the optimism coin is pessimism, and if it gets more and more difficult to have the kind of influence one needs to overturn that coin back to positive in their life, a third side of the coin appears, called bitterness.

This further complicates.

I can create something where before there was nothing.

By remaining distant, I retain my own authority.

Because they were creative and independent, I mistakenly assumed that they would be developed in emotional intelligence.

After receiving a massage, I need to workout in the gym to expand my muscles from within to better accept the changes and avoid curling up like a crab drawn into itself by tension – or like a chiton.

The “freeze” part of fight or flight can become so ingrained that attempting to move out if it becomes painful – like squeeze-sheering the body through sharded planes of granite.

Molestation was so prevalent in my childhood that of course it would seem to be that the cure would be from a true kiss with real promises.

No amount of therapy has dissipated the dark energy plaguing me. It has only dusted off the skeletons in the closet still laughing grimly.

I think I will name them Joe and Ned – there are more, of course, but less is better said.

Perhaps I will invite them to tea and ask them what they must say to me because they keep just hanging around with no ground to stand upon.

Meanwhile, I am stuck in partial sleep walking.

It was a joke on her. It had to be.

Why send dreams to attach her heart, causing her to ache to be with him?

Now every play of him reminds of his attachment to another.

It is suggested that a good way to “fill the void” while seeking one’s life companion is to have simple trysts.

Qua?

To engage in such absence of romance is the antithesis of my heart’s existence!

I use up what I have left daily, giving it away to others while healing.

All that is left in the evening through morning is my wreckage cast ashore by the sea.

I hate it.

Oh, yes – I am impatient.

Unschooled. Undisciplined. Rash. Defiant – I’ll lash out just to hear the powerful crash.

It’s the opposite of an amicable nature, turned inward and thwarted by youth.

I cannot compete with the world.

There is so much untapped talent brimming, surging against wave gates once strong and oppressive – but now bending.

How is anyone to hear me in the storm now pressing, soon coming?

I will stay small in my might, encapsulated as a pearl, ever shining – yet hiding within it a star which, when the time is right, will burst alight – having been carried to its rightful destination by the high tide.

“Everybody’s crazy ’bout a sharp dressed man,” sings ZZ Top to the accolades of listeners.

What stopped me from approaching the man on the motorcycle was my concern that there might only be his veneer.