1. I can’t get up at the crack of dawn to carpe fucking diem because I’m out five nights a week chasing laughter and the moonlight.

2. I don’t want to wake up feeling comfortable. Fuck comfort. I want to wake up and know I’ve woken up, I want to feel my life as it happens and if that means a throbbing headache, so be it; I’d rather dance in the dark than under a rainbow.

3. Eat whatever you want, idiots.

4. My breakfast happens at 1pm and I’d like to read whilst I eat it, thankyou very much.

5. I don’t need to stretch, nor do I need to reach for the sky; I am not a member of S Club 7 and my head is already in the clouds.

6. Drink all the water your body needs, put a chopped up lemon in your bottle but never neglect iced tea and vodka – whatever your poison, indulge yourself in it sometimes. Striving for perfection in any aspect of your life is just going to disappoint you; have a shot every now and then.

7. If you’re living life, you might not have time to write down your activities until four in the morning. Your life record may be scribbled onto receipts as you ride the train. That’s okay too; it doesn’t have to be beautiful to be valid.

8. Sleep on a pile of towels if you have to. Sleep in the grass. Sleep at a new friends’ place every night. As long as you’re sleeping next to something you love – whether it be a partner or the latest Palahniuk – scented fabric softener won’t mean shit.

9. Chaos can be better sometimes.

10. Run into the ocean instead.

11. You don’t owe strangers your smile. You don’t owe nature your observation. Maybe you don’t have a dog to walk.

12. Don’t make plans you can’t follow through with, it’s unfair.

13.

14. Fuck it. Pick up a book because you liked the cover. Pick up a book because the person before you keft it behind. Scribble all over it if you want. Tear pages out and cut out words if you want. Pick up no books for a month, then ten in a day. Books will always be there.

15. Be yourself without imposing cliche’d values and movie-romance ideas onto your personality. Do what comes naturally. If you don’t want to pay your speeding fines, don’t fucking pay them, it’s your life. If you don’t like old people, don’t go and volunteer at their homes, you’ll only make everyone there miserable. Find your true bliss rather than assuming you’ll know what it is by sticking your tongue out at babies. You’ll get there, there’s no rush.

16. Don’t fucking daydream about it. Do it. Write your own ending.

Fuck Your ‘Sixteen Small Steps to Happiness’, love Daisy Lola (via spearmintblonde)

Thirteen must have been left intentionally blank, either for us to write our own, or as a reminder that what happens next is a mystery, right up until the moment when whatever “it” is occurs. Learn to embrace the moment, even the kitchen sink leaning, woolgathering ones. ~Crazy Daisy Me

January 4, 2014

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my heart socks from yesterday
are on inside out this morning
sometimes life feels like that
when your heart is closer to the surface
and everything hurts a little more
because you’re feeling
turned inside out too
I hate feeling like that
but on the flip side
that’s where the poetry comes from
for we experience the world differently
than those turned right side out
and feel compelled
to put those feelings into words

I think too much

It it better to be followed, or be a follower?

How does one have time to do both?

Read AND write?

Part of me feels like I need to get all the other voices out of my head and just write. 

Sing my own song.

Even if it is a little off key.

Even if no one wants to read it. 

The other part feels like by reading the work of others, I am inspired and nudged and prodded to keep going, and say what needs to be said and tell the stories inside me. 

That the two go together. 

Like symbiosis. 

Which is different from osmosis.

Mostly, I think I woke up too early, and am still a little fuzzy, and that I missed my window to go back to bed because my oldest son just woke up and turned on the TV and there went my Quiet Time and the day has officially begun as the sky brightens outside my window. 

~ Janean

© Turquoise Tangles

spelling, google and homonyms

I’ve never considered myself A Good Speller. I doubt, and second guess myself all the time. One s, or two? How many r’s? Is there an e at the end of that? I have an old fashioned dictionary. The kind made of paper, and bound together, as a book. Actually more than one. However, I’m sort of in love with google. It’s a plethora of information waiting at my fingertips. It’s A Good Dictionary too. I learned a new word today. While looking for another. All because I thought it should be spelled with a z. (And I still do.) Thanks to google, I learned a new word and found a homonym. Those fascinating words that sound the same as another but mean different things. 

I googled, “braziere”. What came up was, “brazier: (noun) One who makes brass articles.” Who knew? I didn’t. And I made metal sculpture in college. I was a gas welder. Though instead of making a beaded weld, I brazed. From Wikipedia, “Braze welding is the use of a bronze or brass filler rod coated with flux to join steel workpieces.” Guess I found two homonyms today, since you can braise a chicken too. But I digress. 

In my original word search, I changed the z to a double s and hit success. Brassiere. The fancy schmancy longer word for bra. All that, just so I could type this sentence to my friend, without the embarrassment of a misspelled word, “I’m dressed in soft, non-binding clothes, except that trap of a brassier that society requires I wear for my voluptuous rack.”

And this is me, procrastinating from NaNoWriMo writing that I really will get around to doing today. Right after a Caring Bridge update I promised my sister, and some other loved ones, that’d I’d write next. I better get right on that. (Homonyms are fun.)

~ Janean