Best New Year’s Eve Ever!

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Prologue:

The year started off with a magnificent full moon, but I forgot to go outside and see it. It gave me an excuse to thank my friends for putting up with all my Moon jokes in 2017. On social media, and in conversation anytime someone mentions, the moon, regardless of context, I almost compulsively comment as if they are talking about me. My last name is, Moon, get it? My sense of humor is not everyone’s cup of tea, but it is not nearly as groan worthy as my father’s was.  I blame my, inner 12 year old, my favorite, “get out of maturity” card.

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By the way, this gorgeous painting is by an artist named, Jana Ireijo. It’s only $450. If I had a wall to hang it on, I’d probably be batting my eyelashes and saying, “please” a lot, right now.

Part One: Not Exactly Flush With Festive Spirit, My Inner Virgo, Pulls Out My To Do List

I have to say, I wasn’t sorry to see 2017 go, but I wasn’t feeling particularly excited about 2018 either. My situation is still a challenge, my soul still feels like it is weighed down by a stack of pianos topped by a vengeful elephant who is not tickled by the ivories! The ugliness that crowns our country is still swirling through it the way that murky flood waters churn, hiding shit and disease, dangerous objects and death. I don’t see much improvement on the horizon without a proper shakeup. Yes, it could happen, but I’m just not excited.

I was so, not feeling anything, this time around that I couldn’t even dig up a smidge of envy at the revelers gushing of their plans to party and dance the night away. I had nowhere to go. I didn’t feel up to making myself shiny and putting on a festive face. For once, the idea of kissing someone at midnight didn’t even glimmer in my mind. My loneliness was barely a blip on my radar. I just wanted it to be tomorrow already, to mark off another day of gears grinding. Honestly, my apathy was liberating.

I didn’t have any work, but I have been caring for my roommate’s cat. He’s been traveling a lot lately. He was home briefly and left again without buying cat litter and I had already used up the last of LiLi’s litter, adding it to his cat, Ichi’s box.  Things were getting smelly. I had to buy cat litter for both of them now, and so I ended up at Safeway on New Year’s Eve with two plastic jugs of gritty clay in my cart, while everyone else was buying alcohol.  You know you have reached the climax of full blown Cat Lady Spinsterhood when you spend your New Year’s Eve at Safeway, buying cat litter for your roommate’s cat. At least I put on lipstick and combed my hair first and I wasn’t in my bathrobe. Go me!

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As if restocking the cat toilet on New Year’s Eve wasn’t awkward enough, I happened to step into line behind a former neighbor in the checkout. Continue reading

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Insomnia Has My Life On Hold

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Here’s a window on what it’s like to live with my disabilities, particularly the sleep disorder aspect:

Other than managing to make it to Friendsgiving, I’ve had a bad four day weekend, healthwise. I’ve missed several fun outings that I actually didn’t even know about. I think I often miss notices and event invitations posted online because I spend too much time sleeping, trying to sleep or scrambling to get things done during waking hours when it’s acceptable to do things. I suspect also that sometimes people stop inviting me because they know I have trouble getting up on time and they don’t want me to feel bad because I often can’t afford to do what they are inviting me to do. Ironically, when I have steady social activities I get better at getting up. I’ve probably spent 75% of the past 100 hours in my bed. My back is a wreck. I was recently assisted with the funds to buy cushiony and supportive bed stuff and I can’t wait, because that will improve my sleep quality and make waking up less painful. Every little bit helps!

For now though, extreme insomnia rages, I’m too exhausted and too old to grit my teeth, caffeinate, stay up and push through after a sleepless night so I eventually nap and then don’t wake up because I’ve fallen into REM sleep. Once there, I have intense dreams that are very real and long. I have quests in my sleep. I solve problems. I have love affairs. I do interesting things. I meet strangers. I speak to demigods and ghosts. I do some of my best writing while unconscious. It’s almost like I’m doing all my living in my sleep.

Lately, I’ve had a lot of what other people would call nightmares, but they rarely upset me. My distress at being attacked by someone sinister or chased by lions or zombies is often Continue reading

Fall Back

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Limbo Samatha Louise Photography

Credit according to Pinterest: Limbo by Samantha Louise Photography

Fall Back

4 AM
Really 5 AM
Time change
Falling backward
Time for a change

I am just now
Putting sheets on my bed
I want to fall in
I want to sleep
But my body isn’t ready
It’s humming
like bees

I feel
needles and blades
running inside my skin
my breath is trapped in a cage
I can’t crack it open
Without the jaws of life

I am a fire waiting
Continue reading

My Shoes!

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I’m finishing and loading up a bunch of things today, because I had that marvelous combination of time, internet access and my neuropathy being veddy, veddy quiet. Enjoy!

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“You can’t understand someone until youve walked a mile in their shoes.”

What a ridiculous idea! I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes for two steps and I won’t let you walk a mile in mine. I wouldn’t even let you walk around the block in them.

This is my path. My pain. My difficult road. And sometimes, it’s my easy street. You couldn’t stand to wear my shoes for a minute. Stop looking at them.

This isn’t some kind of challenge. And walking in my shoes won’t make you more empathetic or less judgemental. You’ll just end up pissed off with sore toes and a twisted ankle.

Oh, it’s possible the whole experience would give you some fleeting respect, a little awe for how I’ve managed to traverse such uneven ground in mismatched shoes for all these years. You might marvel at how most of the scars from my falls ended up on my insides instead of on my knees. But your appreciation won’t last because after you’ve taken your pity tour, you’ll be tottering along in your own shoes again, feeling quite superior. While you’re strolling easily or scrambling over debris in YOUR path, you’ll forget all about walking a mile or a minute of mine, although from time to time it may cross your mind that you’re glad you don’t have to.

I’ll let you in on a little secret because I know you won’t remember it next time we meet. I don’t always walk in my shoes either. Sometimes I kick them off and run completely off track for a while plunging my bare feet in sand or wiggling my toes in the grass. Sometimes I stop and lie flat on my back and thrust my feet into the cool night air and laugh at the sensation of lightness.

Sometimes I think subversive thoughts about not putting them back on again or just buying a new pair. But, no, they’re my shoes. Sometimes; a comfortable old friend, sometimes a particularly cruel bully that shadows me home, taking my refuge. Some days they hurt me to my bones, other days they soothes my soles.

I’ll walk in them until they become ghosts. When they fall off in tatters, I’ll walk barefoot until the sun sets.

LM – 2014 / 2016 /2017

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Aphrodite Sneakers

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Aphrodite Sneakers

When life gives you ugly
Throw back a little sparkle
You were never meant to hold
The hand you were dealt forever
Play your cards right
Lay them down on the table and walk away
Pick up an electric colored daisy
Pull it’s petals one by one while you say
I am mine and I am free

When the sun casts a shadow
Put on your bright red shoes
Dance in the pitch black night of day
Like you’re the only one watching
Make it up as you go along
That’s what everyone else is doing
They just won’t admit it
When you make it up as you go along
There is no wrong way

We’re all afraid of the big bad wolf
Who is really just a stray dog
Howling for a warm lap
And a soft hand to rub his ears
When life hands you a blustery chill
Make it a pot of cinnamon tea
Offer an ear for the sorrows
And a genuine compliment
Why, your frost shines like diamonds!

Everyone rages and everyone sleeps
Everyone dreams about being naked
And everyone is blind sometimes
Some are blind to their blindness
But we see more clearly
When we accept our myopia
If life hands you a mirror
Say, Thank You
Even if it hurts to look, especially if it hurts

If life tickles your funny bone
Milk that for all it’s worth
Drink up
That amazing medicine
It can carry you miles
And miles and miles and miles
If you happen to step in shit
Scrape your shoe off in a garden
You can stop and smell the roses while you feed them.

When life gives me ugly
I throw on my red shoes
My Aphrodite Sneakers
I put something shiny next to the rough, plain ground
And I put one flash of rhinestone stars
In front of the other
And I walk in beauty
Knowing her secret
There’s so much beauty, beneath the ugliness of life

-LM 2017

Over The Edge

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Sometimes I write pieces that could become a fleshed out story, become part of another story or just remain a fragment, a piece of a story that is a story itself. A piece of writing feels complete as incomplete, like a teaser for the imagination or just a peek into another world, a glimpse of someone else’s’ experience.Often when I write, I am perfectly ok if i write a few paragraphs and leave things hanging. After all, life is like this more often than not. We meet interesting people, we have friends who are going through a rough time and they slip in and out of our lives for various reasons. We find ourselves wondering later, “I wonder what happened to so and so? I hope that thing they were going through turned out all right.” I used to think this was just a terrible thing for a writer to do and that I must be a real freak. Then I discovered, Kelly Link, a fabulous writer that very often leaves the reader hanging, and I didn’t feel like such an aberration.

So, I am just warning you, gentle readers that this is one of THOSE fragmeantz. it’s not very long so perhaps you won’t get invested. I have been on the fence since I wrote it. Is it complete though it seems incomplete? Is it a metaphor? Is it a story to be continued?

I actually do know where this story is heading. If I want to continue it, it waits. What do you think? Should I continue?

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Over The Edge

I stood at the edge and imagined EVERYTHING.

I went over all the possible scenarios in my head.

I made it day. I made it night. I moved ahead a year. I made it five, ten, an eternity.

I even removed myself from the equation, in my head, made myself moot. I know that sounds ridiculous because without me, none of this would have happened. It’s not like an alternative life would have taken my place and followed the footsteps I had never made. Even if I disappeared today it wouldn’t fix things. The world would still be hanging on a hinge with nothing to be done about it. Not that I could figure anyway. Not without help.

So then, that was it. There was nothing left to do but jump.

The map had said that height was merely an illusion. That flailing through the air was like splashing around a pond in summer as long as your leap was one of faith. Faith was something I was short on these days and I was terrified of heights.

I knelt down and rummaged through my bag until I found, the book. I leafed through it until I found the map one last time. It could be a complete fabrication, the hallucinatory imaginings of a wizard who’d smoked too much leaf mold. If I didn’t jump I wouldn’t know. And it wouldn’t be long until I was discovered. Damn it! I had to move quickly!

I tucked the book back down in the bag, dug out my flask and took a sip, letting the whiskey burn it’s way down my throat. It served me less as liquid courage and more as a reminder to my blood to start flowing through my limbs again. I had been standing in one place too long.

Suddenly my ears caught noises from further down the mountain. It was time to do this or give up. I knew too well what giving up meant so I quickly tucked everything back in the pack, secured all the compartments and strapped it on tight.

A few yards away, my horse was grazing. Sorry, my friend, you’ve got to come too. I hope I’m not going to kill us both with this crazy plan. She nuzzled me. At least someone trusts me, I thought and swung myself up onto her back as quietly as possible. Now, how to get her to leap off a cliff without her balking or making a fuss? I decided riding wasn’t feasible. Instead I dropped to the ground again, untied the scarf from my hip and made her a blindfold. One blind horse, docile as you please, one terrified human with probable assassins at her back.

“Ok. Girl. We are taking a walk,” I whispered. And with that we walked to the edge, I closed my eyes and stepped off, yanking the reins hard.