bigskytroll

  I love the fact that she is a survivor. Survival looks good on her, even late at night. Not always, but sometimes there are dark marks under her eyes, but the real darkness is kept inside, deep inside. I like the way she looks through those eyes. She can look through them and still laugh at life, despite the darkness. Ever so gracefully, she can walk through the fires and the broken glass. Sure, she does shed a tear, but all in all, she has felt the teeth of the wind, and yet, she still smiles. It is a very contagious smile. I see it when I close my eyes. Honestly, I am not interested in people who haven't lived and died a few times. Nor o

Do you know this young lady? What if one wore pain like a sweater in summer? What if it were tangible, visible? What color would abuse be? I'm old enough to remember mood rings and lipsticks that changed red or blue or pink or orange. Thought to be a public service, it was bullshit. There was someone trying to give her all their inner rage and disgust. It piled and heaped. Forced onto the back of a young woman. She carried it without complaint. A beast of burden has no voice, it simply does what it’s told, when tired or hungry or slow, it’s beaten, it’s struck with anything the closest handy dandy weapon.

... NOTHING... The other day, I found myself in my studio thinking I should do SOMETHING, instead of sitting here doing NOTHING. Then, out of NOWHERE, it occurred to me that I wasn't doing NOTHING, for I was doing SOMETHING, however trivial, however mindless, it was still, non-the-less, SOMETHING. Then I realized that perhaps I could do an entire story on NOTHING. NOTHING? What then would it be about?... HA! That's the easy part, it would be NOTHING. I have been inspired by this because I felt SOMETHING of a the need to separate my written word from all the rest of the stuff out there. And pretty much, everyone writes about SO