tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2134223334932729772024-03-05T08:34:02.820-05:00Scattered Mind MusingsBel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.comBlogger18125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-73828033345962367512055-08-17T18:53:00.000-04:002014-05-07T12:43:16.208-04:00<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 17.99715805053711px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 17.99715805053711px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">..| | |..Musings of a Scattered Mind. I don't need drugs to be insane...I write..| | |..</span></div>
<br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 17.99715805053711px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> “I write to give myself strength. I write to be the characters that I am not. I write to explore all the things I'm afraid of. ”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">―<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18015.Joss_Whedon" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">Joss Whedon</a></span><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 12.727272033691406px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 17.99715805053711px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"> </span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">“My aim is to put down on paper what I see and what I feel in the best and simplest way.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">―<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1455.Ernest_Hemingway" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">Ernest Hemingway</a><br />
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<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">“A scrupulous writer, in every sentence that he writes, will ask himself at least four questions,</span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">thus: 1. What am I trying to say?</span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">2. What words will express it?</span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">3. What image or idiom will make it clearer?</span><br />
<span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #181818; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">4. Is this image fresh enough to have an effect?”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>―<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3706.George_Orwell" style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #666600; font-family: georgia, serif; font-size: 14px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 18px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-decoration: none; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">George Orwell</a><br />
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Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-34780303263563118602014-09-24T11:28:00.003-04:002014-09-24T11:28:57.890-04:00Secrets In The Rain<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
by Belinda Taylor - September 23, 2014 10:55PM<br /><br />What mysteries stir in the rain? It holds so much for us that we could never really comprehend. The veil of rain disguised as natures very own tears is but Gods way of giving us privacy.<br />
<br />
To cry will only wash away for the world to know not that our pain was visible. To scream in the rain seems playful, jovial, yet anguished with all it's intensity.<br /><br />Run, run fast and hard. Feel the wind and drops of moisture falling against your face. Let it have you but for a moment. Let it cleanse your eyes and your heart of the turmoil deep within, the turmoil which holds us captive because we hold onto it with a tight grip, scared it will be revealed for the thief it is, scared to show what it is capable of should we release it.<br /><br />The desire to stand in the middle of a field at dusk, arms outstreched, head tilted back looking into the gray swirls of clouds mixed with raindrops seems to call to our inner need to be accepted by the darkness we call companionship.<br />
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Let the rain have you but for a moment. Let it cleanse you and wash your pain away if but for a moment. Loosen the grip and let it go. Cry, cry, cry like you've never cried before and mask it in the mystery of the fallen rain.<br /><br />When it ends there will be no tracks to indicate there ever were tears. Look into the puddles and see the reflection of the new blue sky, the rainbow and the newly transformed clouds. Look into the puddles and look deep into your eyes and find your soul there. Only you know what the dark skies held that it holds no more.<br /><br />Capture this wondrous moment, savor it for it will only last for a little while until we find ourselves waiting for the skies to grow dark and misty again so once more we can hide in the sheets of rain which blanket us, disguising once again the pain within.<br />
<br />
The darkness cannot grip your heart and mind anymore. Take delight because you now have a secret, a secret in the rain...</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-22157887481145366532014-05-09T09:03:00.001-04:002014-05-09T09:04:25.058-04:00Ghosts! It's True...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
5 years old she only wanted to hang out with her older siblings and older cousin. "<b>Please, please</b>"!
She pleads with them to include her. Finally they agree that she could
be their friend for the evening. Little did she know their new found
kindness was just a plot to keep her from ever wanting to be included
again.<br />
<br />
"<b>Hey, i have an idea</b>"! Proclaimed one of the older siblings. "<b>Lets do a seance</b>"!
She had no idea what a seance was but was about to learn. She finds
herself, along with the older kids, sitting in a very dark room at a
table with nothing but a candle to light their faces. She wasn't scared
though because if the older kids were not afraid then their is nothing
to fear. <i>Right</i>?<br />
<br />
"<b>We will conjure aunt Vina</b>". Whomever that was she thought. "<b>Close your eyes everyone and aunt Vina will make the table float</b>". <i>Floating tables</i>? This was an exciting thought. "<b>Put your hands palm down on the table and leave them there and no matter what keep your eyes closed</b>". She did as she was told. She felt giddy because she was doing a big kid thing, with the big kids.<br />
<br />
"<b>Vinnnaaa come to us</b>". "<b>We are calling you aunt Vina</b>".
She sat there, eyes closed tight in anticipation of feeling the table
float underneath her palms. It was her only thought. What seemed like an
eternity went by, she was feeling there was no hope of that table
floating when suddenly screams let out and chairs were slung back and
the candle in the middle of the table was knocked over and extinguished
as the older kids ran out the bedroom door closing it behind them,
leaving her in there to face "whatever" it was they were running from
alone.<br />
<br />
She opens her eyes to see nothing but darkness
all around her. For some reason she couldn't move. Was it frozen fear?
She didn't feel afraid though. Was it something unseen holding her
hostage in her chair? Who knows. <i>Movement in the corner. What is that? </i>She wondered. It moved out from the corner and slowly made its way across the room.<br />
<br />
She
realizes it is a woman. Older, heavy set, hair up in a bun, flower
print dress, black rimmed glasses. Half way across the woman stops,
turns her head and looks at the girl for just a moment, then turns and
walks on until she disappeared into the wall. Only then was she
permitted to move. THEN she was scared and ran out of the room to her
older siblings where she found them laughing because she fell for their
prank.<br />
<br />
Her mother enters the room, "<b>What is going on in here</b>"? she asked. "<b>We had a seance</b>"! the girl proclaimed. "<b>And i saw a ghost</b>"! Her mother was angry with the older kids for doing such evils and warned them to never do it again. She then told the girl "<b>you didn't see a ghost Belinda, they were just trying to scare you, ghosts aren't real</b>". <i>Oh, but ghosts are real!</i> she thought because she just saw one and it was aunt Vina, (whomever that was.)<br />
<br />
"<b>But mom, it was aunt Vina</b>" she insisted. "<b>You never knew aunt Vina Belinda, she passed before you were ever born</b>"! The girl started to cry because she knew what she saw and no one would believe her. "<b>Tell me what she looked like</b>",
her mother instructed. The girl spilled out all the details of what
this woman looked like as she watched her mothers face become tense and
shocked. "<b>Oh my God</b>" her mother said. "<b>You just described your great aunt Vina</b>". "<b>I know it, i saw her</b>" the girl said.<br />
<br />
The
older kids stood there in disbelief and what looked like just a little
bit of jealousy. But one thing was for sure, she would NEVER be doubted
about seeing the dead again...<br />
<br />
A TRUE STORY. Experienced and written by Belinda Taylor 5-9-2014</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-28942602263251348222013-09-16T11:11:00.003-04:002014-05-07T13:11:53.090-04:00For the love of Fall<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho05OAWM12M1-XMZ9thyr5qykp6pwodzGRPIC0jG2W9KBT5Ui4cxSjxvZMIu0ZfFES7195tMnpOTxGVXAk2FtGNT7ospbCAilj7-qVmYsQPUsy-EUgo-Bbxm7aqFTxNdve-JbFdULaj3jm/s1600/fall2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho05OAWM12M1-XMZ9thyr5qykp6pwodzGRPIC0jG2W9KBT5Ui4cxSjxvZMIu0ZfFES7195tMnpOTxGVXAk2FtGNT7ospbCAilj7-qVmYsQPUsy-EUgo-Bbxm7aqFTxNdve-JbFdULaj3jm/s1600/fall2.jpg" height="145" width="200" /></a></div>
Fall. I love everything about it. The crisp, cool, air with the refreshing clean smell as if earth has shed the old revealing the new.<br />
<br />
I love warm sweaters and sitting around a bon fire with family and friends, feeling the heat from the fire on my face. I love getting lost in thought with each flicker of the light and red pulsating embers.<br />
<br />
Reflecting on the past few months, remembering the fun in the sun but so much welcoming the new days ahead. Making new memories through Photography. To hold still the very thought of the moment.<br />
<br />
Walks down winding country roads with a view of the reds, yellows, browns of the trees and leaves beneath my feet. Snuggles, kisses and blankets make the Fall season a welcomed event.<br />
<br />
It reminds me to hang on to every second of it before it loses itself in the winter's bitter cold. Lost forever until earth decides to shed the old once again the next year, repeating the cycle we call, "Seasons"...<br />
<br />
Written by: Belinda Taylor 9-16-2013</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-10890729495386427202013-09-01T16:19:00.000-04:002013-09-01T17:22:25.829-04:00This knot<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIP3cWv0ERH0Bee0xD9Zc1VyiGan3DhGaffjfocA_eV-um_vz79ek_UyBCy4YRMQc2taTXykCHC5ludU1PAzdI2PNSTJ3BITIhAoyoQozTmO8fAuZa9MoCI4wDR0hqBkpUWsadLX6Hu6Ps/s1600/asc_7629.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIP3cWv0ERH0Bee0xD9Zc1VyiGan3DhGaffjfocA_eV-um_vz79ek_UyBCy4YRMQc2taTXykCHC5ludU1PAzdI2PNSTJ3BITIhAoyoQozTmO8fAuZa9MoCI4wDR0hqBkpUWsadLX6Hu6Ps/s1600/asc_7629.jpg" height="200" width="185" /></a></div>
What is this knot inside that seems to be taking over her being? Is it dread of awakening another day? What comes of the detached soul once it has been abandoned over and over again? Is there hope for it?<br />
<br />
The soul cries out in pain and sorrow for it's very existence. The mere thought of continuing seems to instill dread.<br />
<br />
Wanting to pass on but scared at the same time, it seems unfair to even have been born only to be forgotten.<br />
<br />
A cruel joke as it turns out. Just something placed here to be played with. Taunted, sacrificed for the humor of society.<br />
<br />
If the soul becomes dyed with the color of its thoughts then hers must be black. The color of the hurt, the anger, the dwelling within where her being was formed, molded, created to be despised by all it would touch.<br />
<br />
For what she thought was a good heart inside her she has realized it is a mere organ to keep her sustaining the horrible life she is forced to live. The question is "Why?" She surely doesn't know the answer, she was never supposed to know the answer.<br />
<br />
Nowhere to call home, nowhere to belong. Her fault for not ending her misery years ago, before she learned what caring for others was, before the demons took over her mind, her life. Before she had something to lose.<br />
<br />
Perhaps it isn't to late, for the dead knows nothing, the dead feels not, the dead has nothing to lose. Why must she endure another stab, another heartache, another day of being shown her fate of this existence called life?<br />
<br />
Walt Whitman said - “Whatever satisfies the soul is truth.” This is not true, it is the epitome of a lie, a wolf in sheep's clothing, the lead beneath the gold layer. It appears as truth then vanishes quickly once it has taken that which it came to rob, the soul itself.<br />
<br />
The mentality of the human race is walk on or be walked on. Why couldn't this be her mentality? Is she the only one? Are there others? Who knows but she sees why people choose to no longer exist. Inside us there is something that has no name, that something is what we are.
<br />
<br />
One of the deepest longings of the human soul is to be seen. Hers would drown in darkness. She has given herself over to the powers that be. Have her, she will no longer fight, she will no longer hold to hope, she will no longer be...<br />
<br />
Written by: Belinda Taylor Sept. 1, 2013<br />
Random Thoughts </div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-89444932341817731212013-08-20T00:32:00.000-04:002013-08-21T19:39:47.788-04:00Loyalty<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<h3>
<span class="vk_ans vk_bk">loy·al·ty</span> </h3>
/ˈloiəltē/<br />
<br />
<div class="vk_gy vk_sh">
Noun</div>
<ol style="padding-left: 19px;">
<li class="vk_txt" style="list-style-type: decimal;">The quality of being loyal to someone or something.</li>
<li class="vk_txt" style="list-style-type: decimal;">A strong feeling of support or allegiance<br /><br /><div class="vk_sh vk_gy">
Synonyms</div>
allegiance - fidelity - faithfulness - devotion - faith </li>
</ol>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fICpjrm4ka0wRZs1aKUSVEh9zJd1pgZvbgRASyMDfESxa0t5J_PSqyo4rpt0-dEMn-GZavRexLJh0gXDPqv-lR1uPapZbjX0xt-2Ih-rlin-bdcG84T9kCsU_GM8i9o_hmxTVTjmG9PK/s1600/Loyal-Friends-Quote.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0fICpjrm4ka0wRZs1aKUSVEh9zJd1pgZvbgRASyMDfESxa0t5J_PSqyo4rpt0-dEMn-GZavRexLJh0gXDPqv-lR1uPapZbjX0xt-2Ih-rlin-bdcG84T9kCsU_GM8i9o_hmxTVTjmG9PK/s1600/Loyal-Friends-Quote.jpg" height="132" width="200" /></a></div>
This is a word of the utmost importance when dealing with those we claim we care for. Whether it be family or friends. To know no loyalty is to not have morals or values.<br />
<br />
Anything short of loyal is erroneous, and we don't need those people in our life.<br />
<br />
“We have to recognize that there cannot be relationships unless there is commitment, unless there is loyalty, unless there is love, patience, persistence.”<br />
<br />
Anything worth having is worth fighting for, worth being loyal to. If another is willing to give their all to you then give something back. Why wouldn't one want to give back?<br />
<br />
Don't expect to keep closing doors in the faces of those who have been loyal to you and expect them to keep coming back for more. Yes, we may keep coming back for a little while but eventually we tire of the undeserved treatment administered by the one who fooled us.<br />
<br />
Why would we throw loyalty to the wind and watch it scatter about? Isn't it a characteristic that is hard to obtain? Not many can be dubbed as a loyal person. Grab hold and cling to that title because usually it means you have earned it. It should be flattering to us when we are referred to as a loyal friend.<br />
<br />
Unfortunately there are those out there who claim they will stand by you no matter what but then when the going gets tough they tuck their tail and run. Why? Because the lives of others are merely a game to them, they prey on the vulnerability of their target, they are not who they present themselves to be in the end.<br />
<br />
If only one could single those people out before becoming involved with them on any level. We would sure save a lot of time wasted on them. To be loyal one must have heart for their fellow man. Not just family and friends but also for strangers, those people we have absolutely nothing to gain from.<br />
<br />
If having a soul means being able to feel love and loyalty and gratitude, then animals are better off than a lot of humans because a lot of humans will treat us unworthy to defend whereas an animal would lay down his life for us. True?<br />
<br />
Loyalty. Is it something only dogs know? When I think of it, I wonder if I would rather have it than love. Whereas love is often an over-used word and an unpredictable feeling, the other is nothing but dependability.<br />
<br />
“But what are loyalty and caring really worth? "To me? Everything."<br />
<br />
Written by: Belinda Taylor 8-20-13<br />
Random Thoughts</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-75686343100765349232013-08-18T23:23:00.001-04:002013-09-16T11:44:30.496-04:00Loss<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Human beings tend to measure loss in many different ways. Loss of a loved one, loss of job, loss of relationship, even loss of ones self. The impact of each loss varies from person to person.<br />
<br />
One may be irreversibly destroyed by a situation while another may be more likely to chalk up a loss and move on to another avenue of their life.<br />
<br />
“Anyone who has lost something they thought was theirs forever finally comes to realize that nothing really belongs to them.”
―
<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/566.Paulo_Coelho">Paulo Coelho</a><br />
<br />
No truer words have ever been spoken. We are merely loaned the pleasures of life we indulge in. As quickly as they come, they go. Some stay for a while and some go soon after we realize them but the pain of losing either is of equal greatness.<br />
<br />
Healing depends on how long and how deep we wallow in our misery. Definitely each person requires a different amount of time to adjust and heal from their losses. Some never do and wander aimlessly though life without ever trying to measure their loss and store it away.<br />
<br />
“eventually, everything goes away.”, “You never know what you have till you've lost it.” “Every one of us is losing something precious to us. Lost opportunities,
lost possibilities, feelings we can never get back again. That’s part
of what it means to be alive.”<br />
<br />
Indeed to be alive is to lose. If we never lost anything then we would never understand or appreciate the things we have in life that are true and dear to our hearts. Without loss we would never know what we have, it would mean nothing to us when what we have goes away.<br />
<br />
Reach out and feel the loss. Mold it with your hands. Turn it into what you need to make it make sense because how we cope with our losses very much determines our degree of happiness for the rest of our lives.<br />
<br />
Don't mire up in self despair of your losses, learn from them and move on to other good things in life. Don't stop allowing the sunshine in because of the fear that winter will come and engulf the warmth. Hold it close to you to help you through those cold winter days when you need it most, when you have lost what you hold dear.<br />
<br />
Written by: Belinda Taylor 8-18-2013<br />
Random Thoughts</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-846680516325942792013-08-16T21:05:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:14:04.814-04:00Reality is...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Reality is what we experience when the fantasy fails us. Sometimes we think our fantasies are reality until reality gives us a swift kick in the butt and makes us take note of what is real and what is not real.<br />
<br />
Real is we are all prone to self destruction, to lose, to hurt, to die. So how does reality become so obscured? How do we forget ourselves and get lost in the raging sea of real life?<br />
<br />
We are resilient when it comes to the lines crossed from one realm to another. We snap back quickly when the fantasy has been interupted. But then we start a new reality because the old one is now lost in that raging sea to never return or be the same again, and if we are lucky we will be able to handle our now reality.<br />
<br />
“Resilience is accepting your new reality, even if it's less good than the one you had before. You can't fight it, you can do nothing but scream about what you've lost, or you can accept that and try to put together something that's good.” ― Elizabeth Edwards<br />
<br />
People tend to cling tight to their version of reality. Why? Because we feel safe there. Nothing can hurt us there. And because we are scared of what really exists for us on the other side of it. Pain, sorrow, anquish of being merely mortal.<br />
<br />
Because it is too hard to move past the pain and build anew. We rather believe the lie we have created within us, the one that allows us to be whomever we want to be.<br />
<br />
Distorted truth? Most times yes! Are we all vulnerable to our own truths? Yes we are but just as vulnerable to the truth reality has for us as well. Are we ready for it when it happens? Usually not.<br />
<br />
Can we be happy with reality once the fantasy has been destroyed? Absolutely. Will it take work and perserverence? You betcha! Will it be worth it in the end? Absolutely!<br />
<br />
“Regain your senses, call yourself back, and once again wake up. Now that you realize that only dreams were troubling you, view this 'reality' as you view your dreams.” ― Marcus Aurelius<br />
<br />
So, whatever your reality is don't forget about the one that runs parallel to it. The one that strikes in a second and strips you of everything you THOUGHT was real.<br />
<br />
The one that never discriminates and forces you to look into the mirror we all avoid with all our mite, ourselves...<br />
<br />
Written by: Belinda Taylor 8-16-2013<br />
Random Thoughts</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-35731437656292807692013-08-16T11:37:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:15:35.625-04:00Crazy Love<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Did Harlan Ellison say it
best when he said “The minute people fall in love they become liars.”?
Isn't that when the term "LET THE GAMES BEGIN" become relevant?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Isn't
the heart like a beacon in the night prominantly alerting others of it's
whereabouts? "COME HERE! SEE ME?"</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We inadvertantly throw up
guards when we fall in love. The first downfall being "Does he/she
really love me or are they lying?" Maybe they do love you but the lies
do begin. Lies to keep the person we love from knowing ugly truths about
us, our past, and who we once were.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Why do we lie? It's
simple, we want to be loved and never judged. Perfect in the eyes of the
one who captured our heart, our soul, our being. We forget that they
have a past too and are most likely feeling the same as we do.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Lying is
essential to maintain the game of love. Where would the enthusiasm be if
we didn't play the game? We have to build our persona to be as
beautiful as we can. Don't we?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Harlan Ellison also
said “We find ourselves in odd places at various times, and for a brief
span we link our lives to others and then, our time elapsed, we move
apart. Through a haze of pain occasionally, usually through a veil of
memory that clings, then passes, sometimes as though we have never
touched.”</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Isn't it true that we
view love through a veil of pain? Ending with memories which in most
cases are bitter endings of sorrow? Those memories do after some time
become vague and hard to recall to the forefront of our mind. We tend to
forget the good and retain the bad memories and in the end it truly is
like we never touched at all.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What then? Should we be
afraid to fall in love for fear of the lies that accompany it? Is it
possible that by waiting for that perfect one we may miss out on some
very exciting times in our lives? Well yes, it is possible.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I have been
in several relationships and i walked away with a lot of different
lessons from each one. I walked away with the
knowledge that we should not give everything we are to another because
others will not treat us the way we deserve to be treated.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I walked away
with the knowledge that no one is perfect so don't let love lie to you
and tell you they are. I learned that no matter how a relationship ends i
am still a good person and will not live my life as a reflection of
that relationship.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">No matter what love holds
for us we should always remember that the lies cannot corrupt us and
take our self worth, or dignity away unless we let it. Don't guard your
heart.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Live, love, learn from every aspect of what love has to offer.
The good and the bad. Or as in the another spot on quote, “You must
never be afraid to go there.” ― Harlan Ellison</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor 8-16-2013</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Random Thoughts</span></div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-63590360788944825342013-08-14T21:11:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:16:50.529-04:00Nowhere<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Exactly where is
"Nowhere"? If nowhere is nothingness then can we really say we are going
nowhere?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Perhaps "Nowhere" is rather a feeling we get when we have
become jaded.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">You know, that feeling of "Well i have been done wrong so
many times i no longer care" feeling. The "I am numb inside because of
past experiences" feeling.</span>
<br />
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Isn't that like saying,
"hmm, i give up on the human race. I will never trust another!" You
cannot say you will never trust another because fact is we trust people
everyday. Maybe not from a relationship standpoint but we still place
trust in others every day of our lives.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We trust that the store
clerk will give us the correct change back. We trust that the bus will
arrive on time. We trust that we will drive down the street safely
because we trust the other guy behind the wheel beside us.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We trust
in spite of how hardened we think we have become. So, if we can become
that hard then maybe there is such a place as "Nowhere".</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I have had so many marks
placed on my heart that i feel like the scar tissue from them will
suffocate it until there is no life left. But then that little thing we
call hope pops through just enough to say "nope, not today, here is a
spot not marked!"</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Maybe i should just step
back and say "hey, I'm jaded so don't expect me to care!" Then turn
around and indicate that even though i don't care i still wanna be a
part of your life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That is double standards, not jaded. Jaded is what we
claim when we don't want to be in a relationship of emotional
substance. When we want the benefits without the investment.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Why do we seem to want
the one we can't have? Why do those we can't have seem harder to get the
more we want them? Why must the one we can't have tease us by hanging
onto us by a very thin thread?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Is it the thrill of the chase? Or the
thrill of knowing they never have to give in order to get. Who knows but
it sure can be confusing.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I guess the moral of this
article is to remind you to not give up because hope does reside in all
of us and at the very moment that we decide we are going "Nowhere" love
will fall into our arms for us to have and to hold as ours forever. I
haven't given up or became jaded. Have you?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">August 14, 2013</span></div>
</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-62406894437033768032013-08-02T22:10:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:18:24.056-04:00The Demons Within<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The title asks the
question, so what is the answer? The demons we face in life do at times
very much define who we are.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I can say i am not afraid to die but that
would be a lie. Why? because i don't want to leave my family...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This fear, is it a demon
within? Sure feels like it when the very thought of it causes you to
catch your breath. It is dark and scary, and threatens everything we
know as safe and content.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">We are all susceptible to having that safety
net ripped right out from under us. Leaving us to hang, dangling from
high above, scared to believe when we hear," let go, i will catch you"!</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Do we cling to the hope
we will survive this God awful fall? This leap of faith? To place our
lives in the hands of another in itself is like asking for whatever the
moment holds for us in the mind of the person offering us the hope of
being saved. Right?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sometimes we need to sit
and think about our lives and what we have done with it. Did we benefit
anyone else? Or did we just become selfish and greedy? Walk on others
before they can walk on us? Isn't that a demon in and of itself?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Why is it that bad things
happen to good people? Why must the good always sacrifice while the
demons of the world prevail, and prosper, and continue to feed off the
needs, desires, weaknesses of others? Surely humans aren't predatory by
nature. Are we?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Can we control our
destiny? Our fate? I think to a certain degree we can. I mean, if i get
hit by a bus crossing the street then was that my fate. Maybe, but if i
hadn't crossed that particular street then i could have avoided that
bus. Right? So in a way, i created my own fate. Or did i?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Was it the demon within
that made me take the quickest crossing, throwing regard to the wind?
Maybe i should have waited for the better alternative. But then why
should i? This way is faster, easier and i am too lazy to go the long
way round...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Close our hearts? Close
our minds? Wait to die? Not this girl! This girl will fight hell and
high water to survive because the demons can't have me. They can't lie
to me anymore. They cannot steal my happiness and reduce me to nothing
but a quivering mess on the floor of life. Love me, accept me, keep me,
care for me, or leave me be...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by Belinda Taylor 8-2-13</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Random Thoughts</span></div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-64384433949266090422013-07-09T21:15:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:19:14.159-04:00In 3 Years<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She sat in disbelief as
she read the words on the computer screen confirming her suspicions.
Yes, indeed, he was cheating.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The tears rolled as she tried to muster up
enough strength to hold her shaking hands steady.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The lies he has told
about her jump right out of the screen at her, taunting her self worth.
Why would he do this?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She doesn't understand but she realizes
understanding it will be of no concern to him because his mind is
somewhere else and not with her.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Standing in front of the
mirror she looks long and hard and in her own mind tells herself she
sees why he wants another for she is ugly, fat, disgusting to look at.
Little did she know it was mind play on her own part.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Surely it had NOTHING to
do with any of those things but rather had EVERYTHING to do with his own
lack of self worth. HE had to convince himself that he is worth
something to others, even if it meant lying to himself and everyone
around him to know it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Homeless at this point
she sits at the Ohio River with her son and daughter-in-law wondering
how this could possibly now be her life now. Knowing that tomorrow she
would be standing in a food pantry begging for food and sobbing from the
humiliation of it, and knowing he is but a mere 2 miles away, in her
bed, on her sheets with another.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She was lost and sitting
at the very spot where his son was dragged out of the deep, dark,
twisting river, dead at 19 years old 2 years earlier. He had no remorse,
no care about those the river seemed to grasp. How many lives must
drown before he feels complete?</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Over the course of the
last 3 years she had learned a lot about herself, about him, about who
her true friends are, and about the woman who walked away with what she
thought was her life. She would conclude that her injustice would be her
blessing in the end.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Confident, healthier,
self employed, free, loved by family, and friends she treks forward in
life with a smile, thankful for the life she has, and thankful for that
life she lost and those people in it.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She has witnessed his
misery over the last few years, as well as watched the other woman fail
miserably in not only her relationship with him, but in her own
financial status, and even as a mother of the unborn child she chose to
destroy before birth.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I thank You Lord for what
You have done for me and my family. For bringing us where we are today
and keeping Your hand on us every second of everyday. I thank You Lord
for laying out the map of my life and urging me to follow it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For removing those
people, places and things from my life so that i could live. For showing
me that the river wasn't there to hurt us, but rather to clean him out
of our lives forever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">For showing me that he is
what he is and what he is will NEVER be any different. For giving me
the courage to turn my heart away from such evil. In Jesus name, i pray,
-Amen and Amen...!!!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor 7-9-13<br />
Random Thoughts
</span></div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-77907633506238770492012-12-06T21:19:00.000-05:002013-08-21T18:19:50.423-04:00Who's Life is it anyway?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Who's Life is it
anyway?" Isn't that usually the question when we as human beings feel
disrespected by others? Do you pay my bills? Or put food on my table?
No!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">So i ask, why do you think i care about what you think of me? Are
you anyone important? No! You are plain and ordinary like everyone else.
No less but certainly no more.</span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">When people become upset
or annoyed over the petty things it kinda shows what kind of regards
they have about the things that really matter in life.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Lets ya know who
the true ones are in your life and who to dust off your feet and move on
with a Pthh and a sigh. Glad to have them gone because using others for
what they can offer you is wrong!</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Lessons learned? History
repeats itself? What goes around comes around? Karma's a B**ch? Are
those statements to live by? You betcha! Do i? You betcha!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I also
believe in the Lord Jesus Christ whom i KNOW takes care of me and my
family, and He takes care of yours although you probably think you are
the one who is responsible for that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">That is definitely
something we are ALL entitled to, the right to THINK whatever we want.
Judgement Day will tell all so i wont bother to worry about your
thoughts.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I have the most perfect gift one can have, FAMILY! My kids and
Grandbabies is proof of God's love and respect for me.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">He has loaned me
these treasures because HE says i am worthy of this. Until you become
Jesus then don't judge me because to judge me is to not know me...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thank you Lord, for Your
Blessings on me and my family and for Your Blessings on EVERYONE in this
world and their families.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Please forgive me Lord of my sins. Please
forgive others who sin against You Lord. Please heal ALL the sick and
save ALL the lost and make all wrongs right Dear Jesus. I Pray this in
Your Name - Amen</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor 12-6-12<br />
Random Thoughts
</span></span></div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-11050015625300866822012-09-09T21:26:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:20:52.806-04:00Desire<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I love the sound of rain on a tin roof. The whisper in my ear to know i am loved. I live for hugs and tender kisses.<br />
<br />
I adore a candle lit bath and romantic dinners at home. Perhaps picnics on the bedroom floor.<br />
<br />
I melt for cuddles, soft blankets, cold winter snow and hot cocoa. Looking out the window trying to guess how many snowflakes have fallen to the ground.<br />
<br />
I crave affection and desire it to be given freely because, well, just because...<br />
<br />
I dream of waking in the mornings to smiles and warm lips planted on my face welcoming me to a new day. I am hopeless and want you to be hopeless with me.<br />
<br />
The sound of a train in the distance longing to be noticed with it's lonely cries in the dark. Or perhaps the song of the crickets in the fall at dawn.<br />
<br />
Spring has it's own wonders to cling to but this moment, just once, this one moment in time i need someone to hold me, love me, need me, want me simply for the beautiful person i know i am...<br />
<br />
Written by: Belinda Taylor - Sept. 9, 2012<br />
Random Thoughts </div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-50667146803312731142010-12-09T06:15:00.000-05:002014-05-19T10:11:39.291-04:00Scream ...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The darkness closes in
like a blanket surrounding the very essence of her being. She struggles
to shrug it off but it clings on tight, squeezing tighter with every
breath she takes.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What is this? Why has it
consumed her? Where did it come from? She feels her heart suffocating
and wonders if she will ever be able to breathe again.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She suffers, she screams,
but no one hears her. It came without notice, without concern for the
life it would destroy. It is like a raging fire burning its way through
the existence of others.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Scream louder, maybe she
will be heard this time, maybe not but scream louder. Do not stop
fighting for life. Do not fall to your knees in agony.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">All these voices of
insanity she hears inside her head, they wont stop whispering. They know
her torment, they cause her pain. The darkness has almost smothered out
the life now.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It takes what it wants
and laughs at its work of destruction. It gloats in its victory. She is
scared, shivering from the fear that has replaced the hole in her chest
where her heart used to be, fear of the unknown.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Why, why, why has the
light betrayed her? Why cant she just walk away and never look back? She
prays, her faith never wavering, knowing it is the enemy that is trying
to take her life. The enemy that seduces and mangles everything it
touches.</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">It is like a drug,
addicting, shiny and new but rotten to the core of it's very being. Why
has it touched her life? Why has it wedged in deep and destroyed her?
Why does it have to be so cruel?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Breathe it; Smell it; The pain of living. The flesh being the most disgusting thing one can ever experience, truly. Every breath makes way for the next moment of torment, the next moment of suffrage, the next moment of pain.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She
struggles as she inhales. What she thinks will be air is in fact the
pain she has grown to accept as "her" way of life. The wonder of why has
long since left her consciousness and turned into acceptance. She is exhausted from the pain of it all, from the pain of living.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">She
looks in the mirror and sees the disease which has engulfed her entire
being. Nothing seems to be working for her and what would is out of her
reach. Being human has it's price as she has well learned throughout the
course of her life.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Suffocating everything she once
was, everything she is, and taking away what would have been. This
reality has not discriminated against her. She is crippled in her
emotions. “One thing you can't hide - is when you're crippled inside.” ―
John Lennon The sincerest of truths.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Sleep is not even an escape. What will she do? How much further can she go? When will her karma be paid in full?</span></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">She begs for the release
of her heart and soul but the thief will never let go. The thief will
forever haunt her. She will forever hear the laughter of the darkness
that now holds her captive. Be still my broken heart, let me go back
into the light, please punish me no more...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor 12-9-10<br />
Random Thoughts
</span></div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-58852509485426270252010-08-16T03:05:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:23:05.821-04:00Come closer, See me!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Come close to me, see me.
Look through the windows to my soul, see me... Really see me. The
turmoil stirring deep within, like dust swirling in the wind.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Can you
make me see the beauty within me? Will you calm the pain? Come close to
me, see me.</span><br />
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The girl feels, she sees,
she hears the music, the music that can only be heard through the
silence of our breathing, the stillness of our beating heart, faint and
far away, but none the less there.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Is this but a mere memory of what
once was? A daydream perhaps of what the soul longs for? Come close to
me, see me...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The dim in her eyes, what
is this? Is it death of the spirit within? Was it foretold what happens
to the spirit when broken? The dim, making it harder to see the soul.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Blinding even those who look inside. Come close to me, see me. Don't
mistake, don't be convinced that what is, is not. Come close to me, see
me...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">What is empty? Is it a
visual which tells us the glass is empty? Is it the lingering pain deep
inside our chest that takes our breath when we think of our losses and
shortcomings?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Is it the emptiness in which we can not see but rather
feel. What is this? Come close to me, see me...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I will march on. I will
not tarry. I will go forward and move toward perfection. I will march
on, and fear not the thorns, or the sharp stones on life's path.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">I will
cling to life, the life within, and i shall release this outward
existence which comes in the form of life, but is the cruelest of
punishments. Come close to me, see me...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"> Make no mistake, the
girl will never allow her spirit to endure this pain again, this
emptiness within which cannot be seen, only felt. She is scarred within
the depths of her soul.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Her heart is now harder than before, it shall
not be penetrated with the steeling knife which presents itself as love
and boars its way in like a parasite. Come close to me, see me...</span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Pain is the breaking of
the shell that encloses her understanding, the lie which engulfed her
for so long has reared its ugly head but she will be victorious and
break free of its cold grip.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The emptiness within will be filled again.
Come close to me, see me...Come close to me, see me...Come close to me,
see me...Can you see me?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor 8-16-10<br />
Random Thoughts
</span></div>
</div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-7331450200615658362010-06-27T21:28:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:24:10.294-04:00Beauty in and out of Character<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LzyqnMy_oQphI11OsvGG9zQa9NumzeuuZmqiiRtjxAYiWyETJ3JtDePSwiPS1VouRxU75jTA8WlaWmHjkqzVkRjzIiUQFrq33KGNSuCZSaU2SsBnvxMNVQoNLnB8IcVqrHT0tc5P3bZV/s1600/tumblr_lm2hwc0TnG1qk5dwco1_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7LzyqnMy_oQphI11OsvGG9zQa9NumzeuuZmqiiRtjxAYiWyETJ3JtDePSwiPS1VouRxU75jTA8WlaWmHjkqzVkRjzIiUQFrq33KGNSuCZSaU2SsBnvxMNVQoNLnB8IcVqrHT0tc5P3bZV/s1600/tumblr_lm2hwc0TnG1qk5dwco1_400.jpg" height="160" width="200" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">It's
often said that "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". Each of us go
by our own set of personal standards as we render our value judgment on
who or what is beautiful.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">God is the author of beauty. Indeed the Lord has a great sensibility to beauty. That's why He made us all beautiful to His eyes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">But
our standard for beauty is far different from the Lord's criterion,
"for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the
heart". (1 Samuel 16:7)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;" /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">With
this biblical reminder, may you be able to decide on the merits of
beauty - `In and Out` for that matter. May the Lord give you His vision
of beauty so we can all see the beauty`In & Out of Character`</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; background-color: white; color: #333333; display: inline !important; float: none; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; letter-spacing: normal; line-height: 20px; orphans: auto; text-align: left; text-indent: 0px; text-transform: none; white-space: normal; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor 6-27-10<br />
Random Thoughts</span></span></span></div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-213422333493272977.post-10273211290388002322010-05-29T21:40:00.000-04:002013-08-21T18:25:06.433-04:00epitaph of the Living Dead<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">This body hurts. This body
cries. Wondering why its life cant be sustainable like other bodies. It
wonders why it was chosen to live in the dead zone.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">One illness after
another, is it paying for past sins before it passes from this earth? Or
was it chosen to test the innermost depths of its being?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Thirsty, numb, pain, all
associated with its existence. Does it go on? Does it surcome to the ravages of its fate? Maybe it will fight for another day, maybe it wont.
Who knows?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">T</span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">he strength the body
felt so many years ago, now feels like a distant dream. Did it
exist? Was it but a mere daydream interrupted by the reality we call
disease? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Can't imagine the pain of
the disease inside, can't take the violence shooting through the mind.
Unleashed rage, pounding fear into the innermost regions of the heart.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Peace, my heart, let the time for the parting be sweet, let it not be a
death but completeness, let strength melt into memory and pain into
songs.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The body, not worthy, not
of any value. It learns to stop feeling, but hopes for a life in the
after. Will it be recognized and loved anew?</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Will it be looked upon in a
demeaning manner only to live eternally in its fate. Who knows? Here
for a single hour in the wide starlight We shall be happy, for the dead
are free.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Written by: Belinda Taylor 5-29-10<br />
Random Thoughts
</span></span></div>
Bel.Thttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17939951543638854930noreply@blogger.com0