People swamp in like rats through the sewage
Cups in hand as they brush across each other
As the chords of music grace their ears
The smell of candied sugar whipped to stick
Corn dogs, turkey legs, lemonade
Beer, insanity, but fun
Dancing, living, and enjoying
Singing and chanting
Socialization at its highest point
It’s a festival of spirit
As much as a gathering of people
It’s a celebration of music
It’s a celebration of unity
It’s a celebration of us
The last festival I had attended was in 2011, and it was in Little Rock, Arkansas. My ex-husband and I had went to Edgefest, and it had a huge turnout. With this pandemic, I miss these kinds of gatherings. I met so many great people, and we were packed to the front like marshmallows in a bag. It got a little scary when turkey legs flew into the air because what goes up…must come down. However, it was one of the greatest moments of my life, and I hope we get back to a point to where we get to enjoy life like that again…without risk of pandemic or sickness.
I always love these daily challenges that my fellow bloggers put out there for us to stimulate thoughts and creativity, and I am thankful for them on days that it is hard to write something down. Today’s word of the day to inspire us from Cyranny is the word “quirky“.
She is just an average girl of average characteristics. Her hair is short, as well as her temper (some might say). She stands a little under five foot tall with an attitude and personality that was much taller than those scanty inches of her height. The girl had always thought of herself as an awkward person growing up, and as an adult, that idea has still not changed since becoming a the woman she is today.
“Awkward…socially awkward”, she often thinks to herself. What does that mean anyway…to be awkward? She is kind of a difficult person and can sometimes say embarrassing things, but she still could not see or ever think of herself as someone who deliberately set out to make people feel uncomfortable or lack grace in her action, as some definitions of the word would suggest. She is just different…maybe a little quirky.
She is mysteriously weird in some situations, and she has her own way about her that makes her persona who it is and will always be. She has always been a bit of a loner (unless she steps outside that comfort zone willingly), and, in social situations, a bit peculiar…even when she wishes to be the social butterfly that can flutter around the room and make people smile. She is eccentric in her personality, taste in music, and in the way her mind wanders and meanders around. She has always her own views that differed outside of societal norms, and although a quiet lady, she can definitely hold her own in a debate for something she believes in.
She almost thrives on being unpredictable, and schedules and organization of daily life has always been chaotic. It works for her though, and she doesn’t mind being the person that does not fit the mold of what everyone else wants her to be.
That girl that is now a woman is quirky, and that girl is me.
I have always gotten a “kick” out of people saying the phrase, “Everything is just peachy”. This could mean so many things, but in my experience, it’s pure and unadulterated sarcasm.
When we think of a peach, it is fuzzy with that fuzz standing on end, squishy on the inside, and a hard core in the center. That is a great comparison to a human persona and the physical aspects of humanity. When we are nervous or manipulated, our hair stands on end, and our hearts (the squishy part) is fragile and juicy. We cry when we are hurt (cut open), and it all is structured around this core of our being that can either grow another version of ourselves or fail to regrow to a new- blossomed human.
Whenever I say that something is peachy, it’s rarely a good thing and is usually a sarcastic remark to a harmless question of “how have you been?” or “how are you doing?” If things are good, I would say so, and my good vocabulary never involves the word “peachy”. How about you?
One must be more selective who is allowed to affect his or her life.
It’s okay to allow yourself to be persnickety with your inner circle.
It’s acceptable to screen the people entering your life on the daily.
Be difficult. Be cautious. Be persnickety.
It’s your life!
It warrants looking sideways for a moment or turning your nose up to the garbage that is fed to your soul by people who are not legitimate in their intentions with the goodness in your life.
Your destination does not have to end with chaos.
Breathe yourself in and choose to be persnickety with the welfare of your subconscious.
You deserve it!
Pitter patter in my heart of gold
As it’s stepped on and stomped apart
You’re too broke down to carry me
My head is so full of what’s been said
I cannot fathom each day without you
Your words like a circle in my mind
They just keep going round and round
Will I ever be okay?
via Daily Prompt: Circle
The fear inside screaming out loud
You find yourself in the middle of pain
Looking for that tiny little shroud
Of hope…keeping you steady and sane
Torn up… on the deep of your insides
Causing your heart to feel panicked
Your mind going on roller coaster rides
You find yourself feeling quite manic
Struggling…not able to breathe in and out
The pressure on your shoulders hold you down
Teetering on what is real or what it’s all about
You feel like your under…ready to drown
via Daily Prompt: Panicked
If you have one
You’ve only just begun
You don’t wanna jump the gun
Because we are just beginning the fun
It’s better to have something
Because all of nothing is none
Some of something is some
A lot of many things can be a ton
Time to run!
via Daily Prompt: None
My virtual world sometimes takes over my real world. It has a control of me that I cannot explain. I make all these plans to get tasks done, and then hours pass with me still playing my games.
There will be more posts tomorrow. Thank you to everyone who has followed me and commented. The control shall be mine tomorrow…I hope! 🙂
via Daily Prompt: Control
She walked in the door
Dressed in all her splendor
Her look caught his wandering eye
He went to her with candor
She outstretched her hand towards him
A merry meet on her mind
He balanced the soft of her hand at his lips
Bringing an explosion of energy so divine
Her knees went weak
His kiss trailed up her arm
No intentions of stopping him
No need to throw the alarm
A new feeling filling up her heart
Her past brought nothing but tears
She could get used to the treatment
An apprentice to his love for years
via Daily Prompt: Apprentice
via Daily Prompt: Yarn
Whenever I think of yarn, I think of my grandmother. She was always crocheting something beautiful. She would sit there on her little love seat, no matter the season, and craft away at a new blanket with her yarn purse at her side. Her crochet basket was always full of so many colors, needles, and patterns…granny squares covered the cloth bottom.
She had a small closet under the stairway that went upstairs, and it had shelves stacked from top to bottom. Guess what was in there? Oodles and oodles of yarn organized by colors filled the shelves, of course, all protected by mothballs. It looked like a closet of rainbows. As a child, the scent of the mothballs mixed ith the yarn was a pleasant one. I loved walking into that closet and seeing all the different reams of string that she had picked up.
I remember we would go to K-Mart specifically to get yarn. I was always excited to do this because I got to pick out some spools of it too. She liked Red Heart, and I liked anything that felt soft and fluffy. I would usually get the calico colors…the ones that changed as you pulled them out of the spool.
We’d check out and head back home. Then she would put her new yarn in her basket, make me something to eat, and get to work on her new project.
Man, I miss her so much. I see her face now smiling with that needle in hand…a cigarette burning in the ashtray on the side table. It’s such a good memory…one I haven’t had for a while.