justkimu: (written words)
Borrowing from Papa Hemingway (and written in another journal of mine)...

Here's my entry for this week:

Instant enlightenment: take time, add sitting.

Now that's bliss.
justkimu: (sigur ros icon)
Ah...I made it through week 1!

This weeks topic: “I Don’t Care About Apathy: What I "Should" Care About – But Don’t”.

*puts on hazmat suit and flame safe clothing*

Of late I've grown to love my apathy. In fact, it is something of a best friend these days. It is not the fact that I'm without compassion or concern, but more like I'm tired of the bitching and moaning.

Here is a simple fact: shit happens.

Yes...as hard to swallow as it may seem, shit happens. While I don't always like it, and it is sometimes hard to get rid of, there will always be some kind of shit to deal with.

Me and all my friends
We're all misunderstood
They say we stand for nothing and
There's no way we ever could


In May of 1989 I graduated from high school. A few of us started the "rumor" that no one was going to throw up their cap at the end of the ceremony. Why should we...our class was given the title of "the class that doesn't care." Throwing our caps might show a bit of concern about our future. Hell...we all knew we were screwed...it was all the media fed us for years. "Dear Everyone. You are screwed. No Love, The Media." MTV showed us that the only way to be happy was to do what everyone else was doing. In fact if you were NOT doing those things then you were with "them." You know, Them. (I still have no idea who "Them" is, but maybe one day I will.)

Belief is a beautiful armor
But makes for the heaviest sword
Like punching under water
You never can hit who you're trying for


And oh how you should believe what the media says to you. A new religion has come up these days, and it the prime deities are of the Media. The sky is falling, your food is poison, the Earth is melting, and you are fat. Believe this or be with the New Them. You know, those people who are against everything that the media has to offer. These are the same people that are screaming CHANGE, CHANGE, CHANGE...and when it comes they turn around and say, "This is not the change you are looking for, young Jedi...now let us go a bitch about it on the Intarwebs." (side note: For those of you new here, I've been on that band wagon...the one where I write about all the things that are wrong and how if poeple would just listen to me, everything would be okay)

Fret for your figure and
Fret for your latte and
Fret for your lawsuit and
Fret for your hairpiece and
Fret for your prozac and
Fret for your pilot and
Fret for your contract and
Fret for your car


I'm so tired of having to worry about everything. Sick. And. Tired. One day the air will kill me, while the next day I'm told if I don't breathe the air I will die. Yes, things are at a high suckiness level, but do we have to focus on these things 24/7? Yes, I know that sometimes you have to give the "good fight" to win a victory. Yes, I understand that people are totally screwing over other people. Yes, yes, yes...I know about all the horrors in the world, and all the horrific people doing them. Yes, I know that my simple existence is most likely harming 2.7 square acres of something somewhere...and that the clothes I wear will most likely come alive at night and eat me (bones and all).

Some say the end is near.
Some say we'll see armageddon soon.
I certainly hope we will.
I sure could use a vacation from this.


So...here is my big thing. I don't care anymore. I am tired of giving all my energy over to the hating and the fighting and the bickering and the stress and the negative energies and the Ivory Tower Finger Pointers and every other thing in the world that wants to focus on the negative things in life.

My big newsflash?

Lots of very wonderful things are going on. Today someone fell in love. Somewhere a mother had a beautiful child. When least expected, a woman was saved from being abused. At a local shelter a hungry and homeless child found food and compassion. Mines were found and disarmed. An elderly man danced to his favorite tune with his wife of 60 years. People everywhere survived cancer. Another cure was found. A baby took its first step.

I have no concern for bad news anymore. It doesn't draw me in anymore. I just don't care. Life has been tough for me, and it will be tough again. My heart is stronger than even I know. It is not my wish that people, planets and galaxies suffer, but I'm really growing weary of feeling like I'm a bad person if I don't care about bad news.

We right in the middle of the change many of us have been looking for, and I'm not about to waste this wonderful chaos by becoming neurotic about "oh now look at what They have done to screw us."

My plan is to live each day to its fullest and to love everything until my heart swells with the pain of holding gazillions of energies. When I go to bed I will continue to pray that all beings find peace...

In case you are feeling blue...take a gander at this video and know that the future is here. It is tired of the bitching, the groaning and the finger pointing. It is here...and it is ready for us to take wings and fly...

justkimu: (written words)
Why, why, why, why, why, why
Do you say good bye
Goodbye, bye, bye, bye, bye

Oh, no
You say goodbye and I say hello
Hello, hello

~ Hello Goodbye - The Beatles ~

This has been the hardest writing prompt in the history of my writing career. Goodbye is not my thing, really, because I've had to say it soo many times. While the ending has been right, according to the laws of God and Man, the next stage(s) have always been weird.

Goodbyes are really that in between place that poets and crazy people notice. You know, as in "The night said goodbye to the stars...as the morning greeted dew droplets on the flowers...hello I'm still up at 5am to notice these crazy things."

Or, better stated, "goodbye" is a transistion word meant to ease the pain of what is to come be it good/bad.

See...not doing this topic well at all. I'll give it the old college try (meaning I'll stay up all night partying until I've found God on the back of a cereal box) and start a stream of thought onto my computer screen...

This year my mother in law passed away and I did not get a chance to say goodbye. I couldn't even get the change to speak at her funeral. She is the biggest influence on my Married Mommy life. No matter what I face I know that she faced more difficult changes (and survived), and that she truly understood the meaning of love. My first in-depth discussion with her was the flowers in her yard. They were simple, kind and forgiving. When my husband said, "Mom...you'll die out here in this heat," she replied with, "Oh...I hope I do." At the time I thought she might be just a tab bit off...but now I see the wisdom of those words.

I didn't get to say goodbye.

In October 1997 my father became very ill. He was (and still is) the only person who can answer the 2.7 billion (yes, that is an accurate number) questions I have about the things my mom won't tell me. When I met him for the first time, at age 21, it was like that scene in Forrest Gump where Forrest meets his son. They sit the same way, tilt their head the same way, and enjoy Sesame Street the same way. That was how it was with my Dad. Distance and our respective Cancerian stubborn attitudes kept us apart. At the same time we were both dying - he had Parkinsons'; I had addictions. He knew that there was a true love out there for me, because my mom had always been his. Even though his faith system suggested against it, he would eat the biggest plate of bacon any restaurant had on hand.

I didn't get to say goodbye.

My uncle was the only good parent-type person in my life as a child. He was only around for a few months, but the love he shared with my sister and me was way more than what we got from our parents. I learned how to cook, plan meals, take care of myself and appreciate good music while he lived with us. We were always close, and any time he would leave for work/going out/etc. I would cry. He called me his "blue-eyed angel." I miss him so much. When he came back from Vietnam his mind was not his own. Many times he would tell me about how lucky we have it "here in the States," and how life is often wacky. My step-father, who could never accept my uncle's status in life ("baby killing vietnam vet who is recovering from morphine addiction"), would make rude comments and chastise my uncle for any little thing. He went into the hospital because he felt ill...then he died.

I didn't get to say goodbye.

But then again, I just ended my writing business (newsletter production and publishing house), and no one said goodbye to me. Maybe this is a theme in my life...but then again, maybe it isn't

Right now I'm sitting on the edge of my life wondering what in the hell I want to be when I grow up. Since I'm 37, with 4 kids, a husband and all the other "trappings" of the modern married momma, I should have the joy of 40 dancing hummingbirds. But I don't...or didn't, rather...until I realized that I do need to say goodbye to several things in my life so that I may say hello.

In the next few days I will be celebrating my "coming out" so to speak, and leaving all the garbage of my life in a nice recycling center. Unless you really want those particular issues, I suggest that you just let them be. As they lay dying, I will say goodbye to them, as they have allowed me to find who I am. With that "in between" time of the dawn and the dew, where the crazy people reside, I've found that I'm still the person I thought I was, but nothing like I tell people I am.

...and it is time to say goodbye.

(please excuse any typos/grammar issues -- I have a gaggle of typo faeries that live in my office and they've not been given any offerings of chocolate lately)
justkimu: (Default)
Radical mom of four
That is all there is
There is nothing more

*snicker*

I'm totally in this for the hell of it...just to see if I can still do writing prompts and things. A bonus to it will be meeting new folks and making new friends.

Please be aware that typo faeries live in this LJ...and can sometimes cause my posts to look like blargh.

In other news.

Avast ye maties and be not the scurvy dogs ye ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR.

November 2012

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