A long time ago, my blog had a slightly different name. Well, the same name really, but with a little tag line under it.
Rantings of a Semi-Crazy Blonde Girl: let’s take a little trip down the rabbit hole, shall we?
I have always fancied myself an Alice. From the time I was little, I went to extravagant lands with incredible creatures, and I went to them with only the aid of my sometimes troublesome imagination. The rabbit hole in my mind is twisting and expansive. Around one turn is utter darkness, and around the next is the happiest of sunny afternoons. When I sit down to write, I never know which tunnel I will fall down. I never know if I should be packing a beach towel, an umbrella, or some sort of self-defense device. Often, I pray that the knitting needles in my back left pocket and the pen in the back right will be sufficient and I just roll with whatever punches are thrown my way. It seems that what I think of as my best work is done when I have absolutely no idea what to do. It happens when the tunnel I am tripping through takes a sudden jag to the left and my being is torn to the side, ripped from one reality and into the next.
Of course, the rabbit hole is not all about my writing, it is also about how people perceive me. There was a point in my life when I was forced to recognize that I was not, shall we say, normal. I am an odd duck, to be sure, and I understand that. My madness seeps out of every fiber and I have noticed through the years that this makes many people uncomfortable. However, as I have aged, I have come to terms with myself. In fact, I now realize that the more me I am and the more I just let the crazy out, the better off I am, the more people accept me, the more I feel at peace.
(just a bit of bonus poetry that popped into my head while doing laundry the other day…)
If I told you that tomorrow was the last day,
would you leave? Or would you stay
for one last kiss,
and one last moment in the dark.
Would you walk away forever?
Or would you hold me tighter
for one more time,
and one more night of me and you.
If I asked you not to go,
would you hold my hand again
and wait until the very last second
of the end for one last kiss.