Candid Corvid Productions

“I do not understand,” he said. ” I just need help to make my team stronger”

She repled: “I can see that it’s hard to let go, but try allow the current to carry you along.”

(Trading “A show for a song”)

My life has seemed to contain a lot of misery.

Yet, I’ve been hopeful and optimistic through the direst extremes.

So why now do I feel like giving up, when glimpses of light behind clouds begin peeking inbetween?

What others more easily gain by the simplicity of their line, I have had to fight every inch for against bewildering complexity.

Why is survival a gift, yet not a right?

The constant struggle for survival can suck vivacity from one’s youth, leaving a person war-torn, bitter, and just “done” with everything.

She did not want to be associated with nor interact with a man that engaged in infidelity and/or that automatically categorized her.

I am amazed that we have made it thus far on my own resourcefulness in any given moment for obtaining resources.

It is by recalibrating innovation that I have and continue to captain this journey.

My life is a constant venture out to sea while attempting to provide my family with land of stabile security upon which they may grow more endurantly.

We still do not have the dryer working, even though it ought to be a priority.

We went back and forth with the neighbor maintenance helper trying to arrange a conversion for the mismatched 3-prong cord to 4-hole plug in the wall.

Being unable to have our schedules align for final verdict put off just buying a simple converter.

And besides, I still have to take all of my client linens to the laundry.

I always try to have one – even if I’m stuck on my belly, scabbling up an incline covered in loose shale while struggling to obtain it.

At least then, gravity’s weight can be used to one’s advantage.

When one is spent yet keeps giving every cent, it is hard to reset when hit gaps in income while trying to make rent.

If you are sick, do not expose other people to it.

Plain and simple for normal appointments.

I caught the cold from the client on the tale end of one.

It has been difficult enough to make this month’s income.

Of course I am cancelling clients to ensure it does not get passed on!

But where’s the financial buffer for an independent provider?

As she waited in line to order, she noticed the guy behind the counter as the one that before had caught her attention.

Older than the rest of the staff, he had nice skin and was into some body building.

Usually, she did not look long, and rarely did she make any eye contact.

But today, she did both – at the same time he broke his usual distant mode and broke both, right back looking at her.

Flustered, she resolved to not keep looking, and focused on stretching her arms against her body, for they were spasmed tight from three days of intense work.

But then, he broke pattern and walked against the flow of customers to just in front of her to firmly adjust the rope blocking the quick entrance, which did not need adjusting.

Then when she was ordering, he kept hard-wiping the counter in front-side to her, even though he could have done so more quickly.

She could not go any further than to notice this as he finally disappeared from view.

What was she supposed to do? Say “hello” and give the younger man her phone number?

That just wasn’t something she was going to do.

She had tried with lesser men – the “only humans” – but had found to her chagrin that they did not measure anything near to what he represented.

The trouble with striving for perfection is that if you make the slightest of mistakes, it is too darn easy to feel completely awful for doing so.

I guess this is what they mean by being “all in.”

Perhaps it is overrated.

Maybe it’s that I give so much of myself during the day that I am so sensitive in the evening. My resilience capacity teeters.

She was an amazing woman who had developed herself holistically and had lifted her family from potential ruin into the status of “normalcy.”

Helping another person heal requires a type of active meditation, syncing with the state of their physical and mental-emotional well-being within muscles and seeking sources of tension while manually guiding related tissues to help unwind spiral torsion patterns that life and circumstances have entangled.

The process isn’t for others, it’s for me.

But if others benefit by it, this makes me more happy.

She was dreaming she walked along a bouldevard and then into a popular clothing outlet where all the classy, free-wheeling-due-to-having-excess-spending- cash females of varying ages were chattering while shopping.

She knew better than to look at the most current trends of cloth where high dollar was spent, but then the clothes shrank or had some other sooner-then-later flawing appear once one got attached and had imvested so much in them.

Arriving at the clearance racks, she sorted through the picked over remnants, commenting to herself how it was difficult to find a blouse that complimented her large bossom and did not make her look matronly.

There was a loose-fitting burnt-orange-hued strapped blouse – and then she found the prize, suddenly realizing that it is the combination of pieces that makes or breaks presentation of an outfit.

Slipping on the shorts covered artfully in beade-edged mirrors in such a way as to accent her curves and bring flashes of light with every movement, she squeeled with delight in finding a combo representation of her true identity.

I did not get my Sneech shirt, but now with these overstretched tank tops, I get the black Shmoooo!

The thing about dreams is that if you depend upon others to collaborate, they can gum up the whole works by not contributing and/or interfering.

But if you create something all on your own, you can define, set, and surpass the parameters.

Maybe there had always been just one that her heart had wanted.

Maybe that’s why she had left early and arrived, ahead of schedule.

Easier to watch from afar, than have her nose rubbed in it.

I am considering initially presenting my script in comic book form to allow the story to be more easily accessible – especially since tbe second part becomes so dramatic.

It is difficult being a conduit for intention when not all will can be my own.

I do not know why I fear that the money won’t be there.

Maybe because I have heard of the IRS holding onto other, larger business tax refunds

Maybe because we need it to bridge the gaps from holiday drops in income.

Maybe because I have experienced so many irrational circumstances that rational need seems like it would not be headed by anyone.

I obtained a mixed-media notepad and began storyboarding my script. Mostly blank pages for each scene with brief description at the bottom.

I kind of like it, actually, as it allows the reader to project their own visuals and senses.

It is a type of “interpretive art,” which is inclusive to all imaginations.

The last updates to my movie script were dated end of 2016 – until this evening.

It makes a person question any prior enthusiasm toward facing and taking on adventurous life challenges.

It is not fair as it strikes when life circumstances are at last getting better.

It makes a person feel too old to keep anything together.

With technology, we are each becoming more responsible for our own as we gain access to other perceptual worlds.