Digital Art, Short Stories

Hanging on by a thread



There’s too much happening all at once
The constant chaos is getting to me
Things keep going wrong
I keep making mistakes
I’m mentally tired
Im physically drained.
I’ve been working nonstop,  no day off.
I’m at the end of my rope.
This isn’t what I expected.
I didn’t come here to struggle like this.
There has to be a tipping point.
Don’t know how much more of this I can take.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: March 14 2017
Originally published: March 16 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard

Poetry, Short Stories

A different kind of animal


She’s a different kind of animal.
She mostly walks but sometimes flies.
She’s fallen more times than she cares to remember,
But each time she claws her way
From the murky pond of despair
Laying helpless on the banks of her sorrows,
Waiting for her wings of hope to dry.

She’s a different kind of animal.
She soars again, eventually,
But her wings are tired of flying against the wind.
The energy it takes seems hard to find.
She has battled more times than she wanted to.
For once she’d like to rest in peace and safety.

She’s a different kind of animal.
Her sad eyes tell a thousand tales of pain.
She smiles at strangers hoping for connection.
She searches for sincerity in everyone.
She tries to make a difference some how.
But she wonders if it’s all a waste of time.

She’s a different kind of animal.
Her spirit is battered and bruised.
For once she’d like to know true love.
But what she wants is somehow irrelevant.
Her heart’s only companion is loneliness.
How ironically absurd to want what she cannot have!

She’s a different kind of animal.
This time it seems her wings refuse to dry.
She’s crawling on bloody knees
Her salty tears sting her wounds
This time she may never fly again.


Image source: Google images
Contents compiled: February 24 2017
Originally published: February 28 2017
Copyright © 2016 Inner Ramblings Boulevard


Feeling unappreciated…

Being curled up in a ball is great for a fetus or newborn, because it’s all their bodies know as their muscles aren’t strong enough to do much else.

This position is one to which adults revert when in utter despair as it speaks to our helplessness — our muscles reluctant to move because we lack the will to make them do so. And in a strange way, this ball-like position brings a sense of comfort when there’s no one around to comfort us.

Our grownup bodies, however, have additional knowledge of being stretched out/erect; of walking and not being carried and of being in control of our desired movements. As a result, the curled-up posture soon gets old. We extend our limbs, we feel our heart beating, we feel our lungs filling with air, we know there’s blood flowing through our veins, we know we’re alive, and we know it’s the only life we’ve got for better or worse. So we rise, for it’s what our bodies must do to function, to survive and to thrive. Without moving to lubricate the joints and strengthen the muscles, we will become infirmed, seized, and without purpose.

Alas, that was me on Saturday — Curled up in a ball and crying helplessly behind closed doors. I felt unappreciated, frustrated and it didn’t help that I was also very tired! Why? Because Munchkin and I had been at war for days.

It started on Thursday. I left home extra early because I had a huge workload then a meeting with munchkin’s teacher (parent teacher conference). But things started on a downward spiral, as my train was one of many experiencing delays due to a stalled train up ahead (sick passenger). I didn’t panic then as I was early so I just read while we waited for service to resume. However, there were frustrated patrons all around as they were clearly running late (normally me). By the time service resumed we only went a few stops before we were kicked off our train. Great! Now I was mad as I was only two stops away from my destination.

“Go back 4 stops to get the express train which will take you to Jay Street and beyond,” the announcement said.

Freakin’ Awesome!!!! Thanks #MTA!!! How were we to know we wouldn’t go back and get stuck again? At that point we were better off taking our chances above ground, so we excited the station and walked. To make matters worse it was FREEZING!

By the time I got to work I was cold to the bone and quite cranky! A quick cup of coffee, a breakfast sandwich (homemade), and I dove right into my assignment. Pushing at maximum force from start to finish, I made it back for munchkin’s pickup in time then to meet her teacher.

I was so proud to hear of all the progress she had made since she started school and that she’s on target for what she needs to know to start kindergarten in the Fall. I thought a little celebration was appropriate but being so tired, taking our dinner to go so we’d be home and warm that very cold night made more sense. Unfortunately, munchkin did not agree and had a major tantrum all the way home. That bus ride, though only perhaps 5 minutes, was excruciating. Upon arrival home I’d had enough! How could this kid, who just got a splendid report from her teacher, be the cause of this much frustration now? How could she be an angel at school and such a monster with me? It just didn’t seem fair! After all, I was the one bearing the brunt of burden. When I up at 4am to start my day her teacher is still fast asleep. When I’m still cranking away at work to make it to her pickup by 6:30pm her teacher is already home unwinding. I don’t get to shift gears until she goes to sleep at 9:30 (which I’ve learned, her teacher is already asleep).

I sat her down, in hopes to find answers to my questions but there were none. Of course not, she’s 4 yrs old! Clearly I’m not being rational because I’m utterly MAD , SAD , and feeling completely UNAPPRECIATED . The happy family dinner celebration was off. I gave her her meal, fed the dog, took my meal to my room and SLAMMED the door! I wanted to be alone. In effect, I too was having a tantrum for I was way too tired to make sense of any of it!

The damage was done, and the fighting continued into Friday. There would be no stopping at the store for treats or eating out for the next week and no bus ride home either as punishment = walking home. Until behavior improved those restrictions remained in effect.

By Saturday, there was more of the same and I SO wish I had a magic wand to wisk myself away to a tranquil spa to be pampered and cared for professionally. TLC, oh how I miss thee! But instead, there I was, curled up in a ball where I stayed until I’d had enough of the pity party.

Were things back to normal? No. Was I strong enough to arise and press on? I had no choice as there’s no one to whom I can delegate so rise I did!

I understand that munchkin was frustrated, for it was the weekend and she had no distractions of school or daycare to relieve the burden. She was stuck with me. I too had no respite of work to clear my head so I felt trapped as well.

I know I’m supposed to rise above the madness and count every trial as an opportunity for growth, but sometimes, in my human(ness), it all feels like a bit too much — like there’s 200 lbs resting on top of my petite frame and I’m struggling to break free! (Thanks for that Great analogy R).

But as I’ve learned…

There is no shame
in admitting our weaknesses,
for in so doing,
we know to seek the strength we need
from He who is OMNIPOTENT.
Only in God are we strong
and all we have to do is keep the faith.
~Moylom Enterprises March 2016~

As Sunday rolled around, munchkin and I managed to salvage half the day after a very long talk about caring about the feelings of others and how to show appreciation. Alas, I’m pleased to say, things are looking up. We had a great Monday and Tuesday was even better as we resumed our bus rides home and a a quick stop at the store was a well received reward! ☺

Image source: Google images

So folks, thanks for putting up with me today. I’ve certainly given you an ear full but what are friends for, right? Here’s to better and brighter days 🍻 , and thanks for stopping by.


Contents written: March 5 2015 | Copyright © 2016 Moylom Enterprises