On Being Real (I FELT your pain)

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So many things are on my mind that I’d like to talk about. My brain is not cooperating though. It is as if there is a Ticker Tape Parade going on in my head with shredded gray matter instead of paper. (Oh, Yuck!) Hopefully in the next day or two my brain fog shall lift and my tongue become untied and I shall have all kinds of intellectual crap (er, wonderful things) to share with y’all. In the meantime, I’m going to let some other folks talk for me, as they seem to know what’s in my heart and mind. And then it’s off to some brand new FELTED Freebies I’ve made for you. Enjoy!

“Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

– Margery Williams (Bianco) Author, (1881-1944), from “The Velveteen Rabbit”

• • •

“Three passions have governed my life: 
The longings for love, the search for knowledge, 
And unbearable pity for the suffering of [humankind].
Love brings ecstasy and relieves loneliness. 
In the union of love I have seen 
In a mystic miniature the prefiguring vision 
Of the heavens that saints and poets have imagined.
With equal passion I have sought knowledge. 
I have wished to understand the hearts of [people]. 
I have wished to know why the stars shine.
Love and knowledge led upwards to the heavens, 
But always pity brought me back to earth; 
Cries of pain reverberated in my heart 
Of children in famine, of victims tortured 
And of old people left helpless. 
I long to alleviate the evil, but I cannot, 
And I too suffer.
This has been my life; I found it worth living.”

Bertrand Russell, 3rd Earl Russell, OM FRS, (1872-1970,) Nobel Prize Winner (1950), philosopher, Mathematician, Historian, Socialist, Pacifist, Social Critic”

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A Shaft of Light

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By nature, I’m an optimist, an idealist and generally a cheery sort of person. But there are times when my body rages against me so thoroughly that it can be hard to see, much less reach, the light. When the night terrors come, I’m told that my screams can raise the dead. Oddly, they never seem to wake me; perhaps this is one of the benefits of having lost most of my hearing… When I awake later on, I am only aware that my throat is sore and that my muscles are sore all over and even my bones seem to ache. Since I have no memory whatsoever of the content of those dreams, I am not really disturbed by them other than the aftermath and feeling badly for having frightened my husband lying beside me and my son, in his room next door when he’s here on a visit. I don’t know whether or not these dreams are related to the conditions and diseases which are ravaging my body or whether they’re related to external threats experienced in the past or present. The scientific side of me wants to believe that there is a reason for everything and that perhaps the night terrors and my amnesia to their stories are a blessing in disguise: perhaps my Superhero Alter-Ego is battling the demons inside and outside so I don’t have to when I’m awake.

For way too long I failed to question their cause and purpose. But it’s time to set my house in order and toss out what’s no longer needed or in the way and making a mess or which I wouldn’t want to bequeth to anyone. I know tomorrow will be better for having rid myself of this clutter tonight. Please bear with me my friends. Soon the REAL me shall return, one way or another, with silly little pictures and light-hearted tales.

Dark Prose for a Dark Night

“A Shaft of Light”

A Shaft of Light

“The Conch”

The Conch

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