matryoshka

matryoshka

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thorns tightened around my shapeless waist, my toneless thighs, my flabby arms, my giant calves, my floppy bottom, and threatened to not let go. not until i was perfect.

both tired and desperate, their lives gone astray blue eyes met green with looks seeming to say "hell, let's drink all our days away"

refreshing night air chilled the anxious atmosphere. "ten! nine! eight! seven!" i was standing right next to him. his beautiful blue eyes were widened in excitement and concentration as he watched the great ball drop. "six! five! four!" despite my usual cynical attitude, i smiled unconsciously as we were bathed in shiny confetti. "three! two!" without warning he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me into an enthusiastic kiss. idiot, that was a second too early. my smile widened. "one!" hello, 2012.

i close my eyes as I imagine stunning foreign scenery... lively Israeli marketplaces, clear Seychellois beaches, historic European boroughs, bright Japanese cities, glorious Russian fields... i open my eyes and choke back tears. i'll never get out of this town.

they shakily march down a dark, worn path. they are whipped, tortured, laughed at. some fall flat on their faces. tears flow from their eyes and they recite one final prayer as the single violin sings the sorrow of the Holocaust

it's amazing how just one piece of abstract artwork has provoked so many different thoughts.

do the world a huge favor and do not drag others down in your own negativity. we need more positive people in this world, and you are not helping.

unsteady footprints loosely engraved in the mud created a shaky trail to his body, his motionless body just laying there lifeless, pale, the tall grass caressing him

there's no feeling like stepping outside on a brisk fall evening wearing but a chunky-knit sweater and jeans. take a whiff of the crisp, dying leaves and campfires and spices and roasted turkey. as you watch the serene sunset illuminate the multicolored trees and let the wind send a refreshing chill up your spine, thank God for autumn.

alarmists worry, and they spread their worry... worry about irrational fears of second comings and raptures and things deep down inside we know not to be true. but we worry anyway. why spread worry and fear and terror when you can be spreading good news and happiness and new ideas?

writing since 2011 · 11 entries · 11 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Rivkah showed up.

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11days written

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on this day 15 years ago

Rivkah wrote about orchestra
“they shakily march down a dark, worn path. they are whipped, tortured, laughed at. some fall flat on their faces. tears flow from their eyes and they recite one final prayer as the single vio…”

the words Rivkah reaches for

worryeyesprofoundspreadsecondfallrefreshingbodytearsbluewidenedinterestdrivinginsanityleavingstargazing