“If I Could Say Anything and Not Get In Trouble I Would Say That….”
The raw dog truth. PART ONE
“If I Could Say Anything and Not Get In Trouble I Would Say That….”
Prompt prescribed by
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I would say that I wish I could write poetry. That I wish I was married (just to take the edge off sometimes), or found love already, or learned a new language by now with all the time I took off work after I had my baby, or had all the babies I dreamed of having as a child myself.
I would admit that I too get nightmares, make hard mistakes. Have regrets I wish I could sand down with paper. That I want to live a BIGG life. That I want to find REAL love. That I doubt myself too from time to time. I would say out loud: I had chex mix for lunch. I am an adult and I HAD CHEX MIX FOR LUNCH!
I would say that I love my family, but I also love leaving from visiting them, because its an initiation back to my own life.
I would say that I don’t know if you know this but I wrote a book. My narrative is different now. But the book is available at target. Please don’t buy it.
There’s more books coming, anyway.
I would say it’s hot to take accountability. That it’s torture to heal, but the side effect is that I lovvvve becoming fearless. It really elicits confidence in one’s self to unattach to the love of one’s useless fears. Because the flip side is all we have is the living and each other.
I’m not probably going to shoot your gun.
I probably won’t have any more babies.
But I choose to be a dream boat in my own airy fairy movie….
(subtitles on, candles burning)
….which is actually just This Substack….
~Shhhh, listen ~
Ofcourse, I wish I could write fiction. Ocourse I have tried. Ofcourse I will give it another stab. But I feed off my own life and I try to capture it like a pig out hunting. But it’s not poetic stuff. It’s a tell all. Reality tv style. A choose your own adventure set to crazy disco cowboy beats, scuff scuffing of shoes sliding around a sawdust dance floor, sweat of a man’s tatted arms gripping around my back (C’s).. making out until morning, then drinking coffee on rocking chairs on the porch, getting my panties back from his 180 pound mastiff that didn’t chew up my heel over night, bless his heart, here’s a bagel you can eat as a snack, sweet puppy….
How’d I do?
Am I in trouble?
YES YES YES.