Sunday, May 8, 2011


Who's the Maypole?  I'm asking because the month is May and I feel like a braid with more than three ribbons.  It's my job and the work is well paid.  The ends though?  Frayed.  Don't mind the rhyme there, it's not forced.  I am in agony for my skip-about friends.  Mama is tired and love drained.  Her heart aches with the best of them.  Her tears fill oceans.  This sprouted grain granola bar only shoves down so much.  Anyway, my toil is accounted for.  Sorry for all the metaphors and is rough out there. If I lived in Alabama I wouldn't need to apologize.  The thing is, I live in the unhappiest state in the country.  I should have ended it there but my job is to spread hope.  None of you know how amazing you are.  If you did, you wouldn't be reading this.  Take my word for it and believe it.  Then - act, know, take in the awesomeness that is you.  I want to seeeeeeee it!  Show me.  Then maybe I'll stop writing. 

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