Candid Corvid Productions

Down deep into the hidey-hole
The lines become transparent.

What better reason than to love, rather than to destroy?

Once disruption has occurred so many times in one’s life, navigating it becomes the expectation.

A red-and-swollen faced, hanging beer-bellied, shirt-off-in-long-boxerlike-shorts man staggers around outside and then into our hall, hazedly staring at doors while muttering to himself on the verge of blackout unconsciosness as he attempts to find the room that he belongs to.

I dreamed that I was photographing a copse of trees blanketed by snow around their bases.

As I zoomed into a ground junction of trunks, a plump and large, light brown hawk walked right into my focus.

It kept looking at me through the lens as I struggled to make the camera capture images.

But the camera had moved to some advance mode, and I kept trying, scrambling backward, as the hawk began advancing.

I called out to my youngest to help get the camera working properly, desperate to record this strange and wonderful phenomena.

Surprisingly, the hawk did not fly away, and kept approaching – then turned into some form of lean wolf as I scrambled backward into human town territory.

Grubby people in a Dark Ages setting had their varied wild dog breeds tied next to them at multiple outdoor eating benches.

The wolf let came up to me and let me harness its muzzle – then turned into a hound to blend and protect me.

An automatic remnant default response to the feeling of dejection.

I do not feel comfortable about anything right now.

I don’t like exposing my feelings when I do not feel that I am standing on solid ground.

“Solid ground” is a “reality” illusion based upon circumstances “going your way.”

When in a state of deconstruction, what one can count upon feels slippery.

The bruising made her shut down and avoid associated stimulus.

The heart refuses to be buried, once it has found its purpose.

Someone who wholly and fully aligns with who I am at the core. Someone who matches my values, honesty, and loyalty…

Whenever it feels oppressed or suppressed, my love ignites to blast through walls and fly free.

It hurts in whatever form, which takes energy to recover from and down time for nursing wounds – an expenditure that I cannot afford right now.

So we look for housing that has some odds in our favor, and do not apply to the others that would waste labor.

The same can be said for applying for opportunities. They need to have around them the sense of right timing.

Whether in work or love, I do not venture where it seems that I may not be wanted.

When I feel vulnerable, my heart is just too tender.

He followed my Instagram again last night, and when I blocked him, he reported my account to disrupt my service.

A**hole.

The course I have had on Incomplete is due in December.

No more extensions are possible, and if I do not complete it, it likely jeopardizes my ability to finish my Bachelor’s degree.

Rules, policies, “academic progress.”

Do they truly consider it a judgement against personal abilities if continued risk of, and then prolonged homelessness, creates an external circumstantial exacerbation preventing a student’s followthrough?

With the economy such as it currently is, it seems like there should be more flex to the “rules.”

They say that if you want something, you should expand your abilities to achieve it. But sometimes what you want may be a delicate matter, and requires caution to navigate into best position.

It is, perhaps, an expensive luxury to have an “undisciplined” mind. However, having one that is too disciplined can also be a catecombed trap.

It contains the remnants of what once was “goodie.”

Now, say this five times fast.

That I would be desperately combing the streets and pouring over the same ads yielding nothing until my eyes pop and bleed.

But, No.

I cannot afford to waste precious energy.

I miss my freezer pizza, baked hot to dip into ranch – and the ability to make crunchy cookies!

We are successful here.

We can continue to be so.

I must deem it “good enough.”

In the original Dune movie, surviving the test of pain prooves that you are human, rather than animal. So what does that make those of us continually trapped within pain’s suffering?

If my family is unhappy, it is hard for me to concentrate. Being without a home exacerbates.

“I respected him.

Believed in him.

Trusted him

And he turned against me.”

Pain makes me emit energy in waves how I do not want to.

At what point will my neck and shoulder torsion just recallibrate?