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Nobody’s memory is perfect or complete. We jumble things up, loose track of time. Here in one place then another and it all feels like one long, inescapable moment. I know that because every time I have something to write about- I end up writing about five different things and confuse not only myself but almost everyone within a five mile reading radius. 
It is never my intention however to tell seven different stories within one- I am not generous by design just by circumstance (at least I'd like to think so about myself).

It has been a year of things going wrong- feels like the gods chose this year to be the one year I achieve so much then lose almost all of it within the same year. What I did wrong, I can't exactly tell. But I keep telling myself, I could be paying for all the sins that have been put against my name from the day I got here. Hold that thought, aren't those sins supposed to have been cleared the moment I went on my knees to say, "Dear Lord, forgive me for all my trespasses....." 
Well, if my sins were forgiven and cleared, then I do not know what to chalk my losses up to. 

But, losses and all, the year still is coming to an end and I am not sure if I am ready for the whole start over thing. The resolution making, swearing and promising- then less than a month later, fall back to the familiar pattern. Go back to that abusive friend, forget to say bedtime prayers, drop the morning exercise routine, fall back into un-healthy eating and on the list goes. 

In short, I hate the hullabaloo that comes with new year, new month, new job, new things... apart from the excitement of new baby. Thinking new babies, (insert short prayer for all laboring mothers) I believe I have found a cure for my baby crave. I pray and hope it will work. (no, I didn't pray but it feels like the right thing to say). As soon as I can sit up long enough to finish this other plan- I believe I will well be on my way to baby crave cure. 

Cheers to baby crave cure.

I have loved the stars too fondly…

 

Though my soul may set in darkness,

it will rise in perfect light.

I have loved the stars too fondly

to be fearful of the night. –Sarah Williams

Words are our most important discovery. Forget about fire, forget about all the places we’ve been to, and all the places we’ll reach. Words allow us to see farther than any telescope. And, at the same time, words allow us to see inside each and everyone of us, to see every lever and gauge and all the other tiny elements that make us work. So it’s also a microscope.

Sometimes you read something a stranger wrote on a lonely night and you feel less lonely. You feel like you somehow know them, and your only regret in the world is that you haven’t read their words sooner. It doesn't matter that it’s late and you’re tired, it doesn't matter that tomorrow the words will still be there.

Sometimes you read something that’s so good that you want to absorb it all, you want for those words to become you, to express  who you are. Words written by a stranger, describing who you are to a billion other strangers.

And sometimes words are just beautiful. They sing to us in ways that no song ever could, in ways that turn the ordinary into extraordinary.

We didn't invent words. No. The words invented us. They invented this world, and kindly allowed us to create a million more inside our head or on paper. And we use so many words, at strange hours of the night, that sometimes we feel trapped by them. We feel lonely and scared, and we feel as if words can’t really express who we are. That, somehow, all we are doing is diminishing our experiences and feelings by writing them down or saying them out loud.

It’s easy to feel this way, especially if you've been writing for some time. To feel that we haven’t yet discovered the words that could accurately describe the fire that burns inside us.

And what do we do?

We use words to create the future. We use them to write about who we always dreamed of becoming but never had the courage to become, we use them to write about who we’d want to be, who we think we are. We use them to describe a world that was never meant to exist.

We travel this world with our pockets filled with dreams, and we can only make come true a few of them. The rest we write into existence hoping that someone else might want to make them come true…

We live on through our words.... We aim for the stars..our souls float in realms only imagined.

Village Girl