My Semi-real Home in the Clouds

I sit on the uncomfortable futon in what is, technically, my living room. Sometimes I don't even want to walk around the house because there's so very much stuff everywhere with no organization and everything is filthy. I close out my game window with a sigh. I can't even focus on that very well. I open a document, but still nothing comes to me. I have nowhere to go and nothing that I can do, and I feel like smashing a window, like you can do in a break room, or whatever it's called. Not sure how, but apparently you can smash things without getting hurt. I've never been violent and I don't want to cause real damage, but sometimes... I break off my train of thought as I lean my head against the back of the couch and close my eyes. I let my empty, and yet somehow swirling, mind take over. The fog comes again, though this time I don't really imagine it visibly. Then... I'm in that place. I can feel the thick carpet of the room under my feet, which are bare for some reason. I open my eyes and slowly lift my head. I'm sitting on something different now, though it doesn't come into focus. I also feel a bit different. Listening to my surroundings, I notice that it's quieter now. I look around; everything but what I'm sitting on is bare. I concentrate for a moment, and my end tables appear on each side of the piece of ferniture I'm seated on. The tables are scrubbed clean and free of clutter and debris. My coffee warmer and a box of tissues appear on one, and one of my vases of fabric flowers on the other. I look towards the wall in front of me, and a chair and small computer desk come into focus. My laptop, a printer and one of my echo dots appear on it. I open one of the drawers to find my stacks of assorted braille paper. The other drawer contains tape, my braille labeler, scissors, a small stapler, a pencil, a pen that can be used as a tablet stilus as well, a small container of assorted paper clips, and a hole punch. The third one has my iPad cases, my laptop bag, and maybe even one or two phone cases. It also has a pair of over ear headphones and my airpods in their little case. The last drawer has stacks of ink cartridges, computer paper, and some empty folders and binders. I think for a moment; something's missing... Then I have it. Two cute little trays also appear on the desk, one holding headphone cords/chargers and my dongles, the other, one of those stress balls that's fun to squeeze and play around with, a pack of gum, glass/lens wipes and hand wipes. A paper shredder is tucked against one side of the desk on the floor, my brailler, which is clean and no longer broken, on the other side. I look over at the charming partitian between the living room and kitchen, and some of my tiny stuffed animals appear in some of the open cubbies. Fairy lights suddenly wind around the tiny decorative railing, and 3 little glass bowls with optional lids sit on the space in front on the living room side. They are full of mixed nuts, gummy bears, and individually wrapped pieces of jerkey, respectively, and a nutcracker sits beside them. One or two of my favorite kitchen appliances rest on the counter by the sink. I smile as I wander down the very short hall. I open the coat closet to find my jackets and hoodies, along with my winter coat. There is also a little holder attached to a wall with hats, gloves, and scarves. There are a couple big plastic storage tubs on the floor, and some smaller boxes and bags on the shelf above the hanger bar. There's also a small shoe rack with a few pairs of specific season appropriate footwear. Closing the door, I move on to the bedroom. I smile as I step inside. It's spacious enough to move around without bumping into everything, but not large. My bed sits at one end, my nightstand at attention beside the head. In the closet is another shoe rack, this one holding a few pairs of slippers and a couple pairs of general purpose shoes. There's a little chest by the foot of the bed that contains blankets, and there's a nice dresser against one wall. Pretty curtains hang at the window, and an overstuffed beanbag acts as a seat in front of the window. I take a seat there now, smiling at the comfort as I sink into the comfy blob of fabric. I notice my other echo dot and ask it to play music. I sit and soak in the feelings. My dreamy state deepens as a scent from a wax warmer fills the air. I open my eyes... and my smile slowly fades away. I'm back on the futon, in the cluttered house. I try to make myself go back to the beanbag; I still hadn't gone outside to the little patio area. Alas, though I could picture it in my head, I can't take myself there again. I sigh and shrug. Perhaps, maybe even someday in the near future, I'll get that apartment I saw and I'll be able to make it my own--truely my own--for the first time in my life. Hopefully. But, then again, if I'm meant to stay here, I just need to come up with more ways of improving things here. I feel like I'm running out of options, but at least I can say I've already got a roof over my head. And although not everything there came into focus, I can keep dreaming, reaching, and imagining. 

Days and weeks and months oh my!

Alrighty then… Hello there, everyone!

It has definitely been a while since I have posted. That was not on purpose. I never realized how much time had gone by since my last post. I know… This isn’t a brain fog adventure post, but I’m definitely hoping to give you more of those, and of course, a few updates about me sprinkled in.

Speaking of which, there have actually been some good, and not so good, things going on with social media, especially when it comes to people who are blind or visually impaired. Thankfully, the app that I use most of the time to post these blogs is still accessible. There are a couple of changes that I am implementing. Hopefully this will give me some more opportunities to share posts with you guys! If I still have any followers, that is. And who knows, maybe I’ll make some new ones. I certainly do not intend to let this be a dead blog. 

Anyway, that’s basically all for now. I just wanted to drop in and let you guys know that I am still alive. I am trying to implement one of these changes now as I am writing this blog. However, it is also getting late, and I am going to be heading off to bed soon. 

So therefore I say:

A good night to you. 

Uncurl, unfurl, nourish, flourish

As I finish the last dregs of my coffee, I close my eyes and let a gentle mist surround me. I send my thoughts and feelings into it, letting my mind go completely blank for a moment. Shapes begin forming, slightly soft around the edges, ready to melt and change at a simple thought. 

I sit on a balcony in a comfortable patio chair, a small table beside me. The soft sound of wind chimes floats on the warm, eddying breeze. Scattered sunlight shines through the layer of gray clouds. The quiet birdsong and the muted sounds of the city meld with the chimes and the faint sigh of the wind in the trees to create a unique orchestra. I can smell the freshness of the earth and grass, and the hint of rain in the air. I close my eyes, letting my mind trace back to the thoughts at hand. 

A lot of things are like flowers. Personalities, emotions, people, relationships. They grow and change. They close tightly when they feel threatened, some are strong and stirty, some more delicate… and they can die so very easily. They even bleed when wounded, though obviously not blood. I also firmly believe that nature can feel, even if it’s differently than we do. Relationships, for example. You can’t treat them the same, just as you cannot care for all plants the same. Not all require the same conditions to grow and thrive. Some are incredibly adaptable and flexible. Usually, the plant will let you know what it needs if it possibly can. And sometimes we have to come up with different solutions if we want to keep our greenery healthy. Just like relationships should be, most plants are beneficial to everything. They can heal the environment, they provide us with oxygen, and we provide them with carbon dioxide. And just as we should with some of the relationships we have, sometimes we need to cut off dead foliage, or trim a wildly growing vine when it is causing harm and destruction, and pull up weeds that are harming the plants and chaotically spreading. Sometimes it’s nature. Even wilderness life doesn’t last forever. It lives, grows, dies, and grows again, and nature does its thing. The rain, humidity, sunlight and darkness, pollination, temperatures, and types of soil take care of everything. 

I believe that in some way, we are all connected, even music and plants. 

I look around me as the shapes of the trees and clouds, and everything else slowly dissipates as the mist envelopes me. I close my eyes and take a deep lungful of the fresh air, as that is the last thing to go. I smile and stretch, listening to the real birds and wind chimes outside my window. 

I hope this post didn’t bore all of you. I’ll see you next time. 

Human Pangea

Hi there! It’s good to be back. I have been a very busy beaver for the past few months. This blog post will be a bit different, although I still think that there will be some philosophical parts.

I am getting ready to move, and I am imagining quite a bit of things. I’m moving into part of a duplex, and I will be gaining a bigger space and a roommate. She’s been one of my best friends since 2009, and we get along very well. I am extremely excited about having more of a balance in my life now . I’ll still have my own bedroom, and I’m imagining how I want it to be set up. And while we will share the rest of the house, she is willing and open to share ideas and let me decorate if I wish. 

This move was rather unexpected, but every time I think back on the events that have happened so far, I can’t help but come back to the same reason over and over again. There were just too many things that lined up for this to be just a coincidence.

When I got the chance to go visit my friends at the end of the summer, I stayed there for a bit longer than I expected, and got involved in a half marathon chariot race in the fall. While I was there, another friend and I talked about possibly trying to get a place together. We were both getting tired of our situation, and feeling a bit out of sorts. As for me personally, besides that feeling, I had been getting this sort of nudge. The nudging was getting more prominent the longer I visited. That specific Avenue didn’t end up working out, however, immediately after that  the friend that I was staying with most of the time got an opening, because her roommate met someone that wanted to move into the area and needed a roommate, so they decided to team up and move  to another place nearby. My friend asked me if I would like to move in, since I was looking  for possibilities anyway, and I immediately jumped at the chance without even thinking about it. Since then, I have run into a couple of small snags, of course, and I have been a bit worried about things such as money, but my move out date is now very close, and at the moment I have more money in my bank account than I’ve ever had… Aside from when we got stimulus checks. I have also finally gotten approved for a beginner credit card that is supposedly designed to help me build credit. Everything seems to be moving and shifting, clicking into place like puzzle pieces. It reminds me a bit of Pangea, thus the title of this blog post.

Now, backing up a bit again to my imagination running wild. I have cleaned out what I don’t want or need, or what doesn’t seem to fit me or what I want anymore. I’m only taking what I still very much want and what I need.  I think I will be able to buy new things if need be. I hope that I will have enough room in my bedroom to begin doing my yoga practices again. Other than that, I’m still imagining the different ways I’d want to set it up, and how I might want to decorate it.  I want this to feel more like a home than my apartment ever did, and I think that it will. Especially with my friend there. I’ll have a companion, but I’ll also still have alone time. I’ve tried to turn my apartment into what would feel like a sanctuary for me, but I only partially succeeded in that. I think that this will be another opportunity for me to practice my creativity and also make a place that reflects who I am and what I love around me. I’d also like to start making crafts again. I think I will be able to do that again as well.  Needless to say, i’m very excited, and my creativity is already warming in the egg that is my brain, just waiting to hatch.

I hope everyone likes this post. I know there’s not a lot of fantasy in this one, but I wanted to sit down and write it anyway, and to let you know that I am still here.

In the Wind

I sit down with my cup of coffee, my fingers hovering over the keys, ready to spill forth my prolific words. Only… They don’t begin their dance. My head begins to fill with all my recent experiences—so many experiences. Then… Something very familiar… and I let it happen… Because now I want it to happen. They blur into a silver mist. I drift through this fog gently, lazily. It is warm here. A breeze tugs at my clothes and hair playfully. The air is perfumed with clary sage, myrrh, Jasmine, and rose. I smile as I inhale slowly, letting my eyes drift closed. I begin to notice a sound. A very soft sound. Words? Music? Perhaps both. I hear it all in the soft whispers of the wind itself. It almost seems to brush against my mind, as if requesting entry. Though the sound is vague, the messages are understood. Understood because they are poetic somehow. With the intonation of every hiss and swish, The wind performs its own spoken word. A second sound begins to join the first. It sounds almost like the snapping of many fingers, and I understand as a few raindrops kiss my face, hair, and shoulders. After a little while, the smells, sounds, and feelings begin to slowly fade, and I’m back in my room. I smile, though it is somewhat bittersweet, as I take a drink of my still warm coffee.  

I’m still here

Hello to everyone.

Yes, I am, indeed, still here. It has been quite a while since I’ve written. This is more of a general update. A couple of months after my last peace, I started having strange medical issues after getting sick. A few months later, we figured out what was going on, and I now have an upcoming surgery to remove my gallbladder.

Anyway, in the past couple of months, I have been introduced to a new platform called clubhouse. I wasn’t sure if I would like it at first, but I have been finding little gems, treasures, through this platform. It has allowed me to express my creativity in a bit of a different way. I have managed to write a handful of new poems during this time. I am very much glad for the people that I have met that have been so uplifting, friendly, helpful, and supportive. I’m truly thankful for the opportunities that I have had, and I hope that everything continues, allowing the connections to grow even deeper.

I have also discovered a couple of more tentative opportunities that may help me to get a future job/boost a career. I’m still taking it slow; there are still things that I need to do and work on, but I am hopeful that I will be lead in the right direction somehow.

For those of you that are still here, thanks for sticking around. I truly appreciate your support.

I’ll try to write again soon

Jessica

Stuff and things and magic, oh, my!

All right… I will apologize in advance for boring you all to tears, for an interior decorator I am not, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. Therefore, I finally decided to write it down. So, without further ado, here it is.

I smile as I sip from my cup. Mello music and the intermittent buzz of cicadas create the perfect backdrop for my contemplative mood. The curtain billows in the late summer breeze, light washing over the room, then receding, like lazy ocean waves. I smile and close my eyes, breathing deeply, as another breeze reaches me. I can smell the freshness of sun-warmed grass and trees, water, flowers, and the occasional snatches of food, smoke, and coffee.

I let my mind roam freely once more as fog fills the space. When it clears, I’m still in my apartment, only every surface is now bare; everything else in a single container, the items fitting magically. With a wave of my hand, I make certain that everything is as clean as possible. Next, I gesture again, and all my items begin moving, going where I want, some of my drawers and containers changing into the perfect sizes, additional storage units appearing as needed. I smile with satisfaction as I move my recent purchases, decorations that I found at a dollar store, into place. I’ll be getting more to hopefully complete the project very soon, but here is where my imagination has been taking over. I turn in a slow circle, eyes closed, as I think, a finger coming to my slightly pursed lips. With another wave, I fill the glass bowls and vases on my coffee and end table to see how it looks. I switch between different things; clear gems, tiny colored balls, perfect round white pebbles, and fake soil. I top them with the gourds I got, which have red and yellow sunflowers, peppers, and berries attached. I put the stems of different colored leaves, some also with clusters of tiny berries, back in the vase, and arrange the small silver votive style artificial candles. I pause again with thought. Little shelves appear in some places on the walls. On a section of one wall that is wood, a mantel appears at about my eye level. I put the rest of the candles, tall white and clear votives with glittery orange jack-o'-lanterns, and a smiling beanie baby ghost, on it. I debate whether to put the rest of the Halloween decorations up, then shrug, deciding that I may as well. I snap my fingers, and the little strings of purple and orange lights, big black spiders with glittery bodies, and black bats move around the room. I chuckle to myself. All that’s missing is spooky music and snacks, and I could throw a party! My imagination takes over again, and I play around a little more. The lights are replaced with slender strands of golden garland, and the ghost is replaced with a plump turkey with colored feathers. The jack-o'-lantern candles are replaced with the gold votives, and the bats and spiders vanish. Then, the turnkey is replaced with a snowman, and a Christmas tree appears in the corner by the mantel. Ice sickles hang at various points. Then, all the decorations revert to their original state. I sit and let the breeze continue to move through the room. After a while, I smile and gather the fog around me. I am now outside somewhere. The area is thick with grass, and there is a stream that flows into a small lake. There are trees and vegetation all around, though the area is still spacious enough. I lean against a tree and sigh wistfully  as I realize that this would be a nice place to have a picnic. After a while, I let everything melt away as I am slowly transported back to my living room.

Mazes

I find myself very contemplative as I write this. I’m not fighting to write, or rather, not having to let my imagination be tapped into by fog, which is a fun way to vanquish your enemy and make it do the very thing you wanted. Actually, that’s a joke. Sort of. I find that letting it take over, have the spotlight, lead me, it’s still easier to write. It’s not going away, leaving me in the lurch, and I’m not apprehensive about trying to write anymore, because even if I can’t think, can’t concentrate on what I originally wanted, I know that it will probably take me somewhere just as interesting. 

I decide to summon it now, because it’s kind of hard to explain how I’m thinking right now. Strange for a writer, I know, but not so much if you just go about it a different way. All right, enough boring you with my ramblings. 

I sit back, and let the fog encompass me, until the scene in my head comes into focus. I’m in a strange chamber. The shape is… indiscernible; there are no windows, and many doors, a small wooden chair the only piece of furniture. My footsteps echo on the floor. Tile? Or marble? The doors all look the same, arched, sturdy, and with an iron handle. Some are tucked into corners, alcoves, and archways, and some are along corridors, long and short. Some are close together, some farther apart, and some seem to stand alone. As I explore, I notice that some of the halls join and meet others, or split and branch. I decide to keep exploring the hall I’m already in. I open the closest door. Behind it is another room, this one small, with brightly painted walls, and another door on the other side. I think for a moment. Should I go to the other door? There are so many others… I finally decide to just go peek. I gasp when I open it; there are gold nuggets, jewels, and raw precious stones everywherE. I chuckle. It’s just like a dragon’s hoard, though I see no where for such a beast to enter. I slowly reach out and pick up a small stone, about the size of a dime. It’s plastic. I should’ve guessed. I drop it, then pick something else up with a shrug. Oh… this is a regular stone, although it’s lovely; like a stone I wrote of in one of my poems. I slip it into my pocket, having a strange compulsion to keep it. I reach to explore more, but an invisible force keeps my hand from touching something that looks gold. Curious. After a moment, I shut the door and exit the bright room. The next door opens upon a blast of wind that nearly knocks me back. It is dim, but it looks as if there is a path I couLd travel if I chose. However, it would be a struggle against the wind, and I’m not sure how long it is, or where it goes. I close the door, and decide that I could explore, but that I’d need to be more prepared. I take a turn in another hall, this one longer, with curves and turns. When I come to the end and open the door, I just stand there. A plain, tiny stone room, with no other exits or windows; a dead end room. Why is this even here? I shut the door firmly, and make my way back through the long, twisting hall. I come to a nook with a single door. I open it; before me is a beautiful wooded path, the trees along either side close together, their branches arching up to make a canopy. I take a cautious step forward, and then another. Nothing seems to be amiss… Just as I’m wondering if I should head down this path, I notice what looks like a cave entrance a little ways away, presumably at the end of the path. I continue walking. The hard packed dirt under my feet is a bit uneven, but not hard to traverse. The temperature is perfect; there is a slight breeze, and dapples of soft sunlight peek through the canopy in some places. After a while of walking, I begin to get thirsty, but there’s no water around. Thankfully, I approach the cave soon after, and cautiously enter. There is a gentle slope, and at the bottom, there is a small pool to one side, and a door on the other. The water looks clean and clear, so I cup my hands and drink before moving through the door. I am now back in another Hall. This one is long, but straight, with a great deal of doors. With a shrug, I open the one I’m closest to. I raise my eyebrows. It looks like… Just… Trash. Odds and ends, crumpled paper, little pieces of wood and plastic and a couple of other unidentifiable materials. My finger catches on something; a length of leather cord With a piece of bent, but sturdy looking, thin silver wire knotted onto it. Maybe something that was once a piece of jewelry? I look at it for a moment with a thoughtful frown, and then slip it into my pocket. I’m not sure why, But I feel like maybe I could use it somehow… Maybe for… Yes, I could probably wrap the wire around the pretty stone in my pocket somehow, and turn it into a necklace. I take the cord back out of my pocket, and straighten the wire. A bit difficult to do with just my fingers, but manageable. I take the stone out of my pocket and wrap the wire around it once, twisting it tightly while trying to keep the stone from moving, and then Pulling the ends of wire over the other two sides to secure it. I twist a couple of times To close the wire, and almost stab myself trying to tuck in the sharp points. Finally, though, it is done. I adjust the cord and slip it around my neck. Something else catches my attention, and I laugh wryly. A small canteen, a bit dusty, but perfectly serviceable. I guess sometimes it’s true what they say… One man’s trash is another man’s treasure. I don’t see anything else useful, so I exit. The next door that I come to will not open. I try pushing on it, wiggling and twisting the handle, and even yanking on it, to no avail. The same thing happens with the next one I try, and the next, and three more. Finally, I come to a door that opens. There is another small hallway that sort of curves back-and-forth in a type of snake pattern, but when I come to the end, there is nothing but a wall. Retracing my steps, I try the next door. It opens onto… Darkness. Complete and total darkness. Somehow, not even light from outside seeps in. I cautiously reach out a hand through the doorway, trying to feel around for any obstacles. Nothing. Then, A sudden oppressiveness moves through me; it feels foreboding, and the darkness is strangely slightly vacuous. I pull back my arm… And my bones turn to water. My hand, and most of my forearm is gone. Just… Completely gone, as if I never had that part of my arm in the first place. There is no pain, no gore, no blood. My arm simply… Ends just slightly below my elbow. My blood is icy with terror as I stare. It feels like the darkness is trying to slowly expand out of the room; I slam the door shut. If I Had gone further… I back away from the door and shiver violently. I don’t know how to get the rest of my arm back! I don’t understand how it happened! Desperately, I summon a bit of the fog around my limb and try to re-create it, to make it whole again. Thankfully, after a moment, it works. I flex my fingers to make sure, and then touch my face, the wall, my other hand. I grasp the handle of another door, but I am shaking, and am afraid to open it. After a very, very long moment, I slowly inch the panel back. This one looks to be another nature scene. The grass is lush and green, the trees are tall and old, there is a babbling brook of crystal clear water, and I can hear a concert of nature. However, it looks as if I am hemmed in on all sides by underbrush that is too thick to go through. So, in a sense, this is another dead end, albeit a beautiful one. The next door opens onto a brick wall that reaches above my head, but does not touch the ceiling. There is no way around it, and I have no way to climb over it or break through… So I shut yet another door, and try another. This one is… Interesting. It is another hallway, made different only by the sconces in intervals along the walls, each one with a lit candle that throws pools of light across the otherwise shadowed passage. I hesitate, understandably, before taking a very slow, very cautious step forward. Nothing happens. I continue, walking slowly. This path feels… a bit mysterious for some reason. There is something that I can’t quite place, but thankfully, it doesn’t feel evil, foreboding, or dangerous in any way. Although, I have a strange mixture of feelings… peacefulness, curiosity, and oddly, the slightest bit of unsettlement, although that could just be me. As I follow the gentle curve, I realize that it is gradually sloping upwards as well. After a few more moments, I open the door at the end, and gasp. The scene before me is a landscape that seems to be made of ice and snow. Drifts are piled high on either side, and yet more snowflakes fall in a never ending shower. The wind seems to blow from all directions. For a moment, I think about turning back, but then I notice that the path is fairly short. I can just see another door a little distance away. The cold bites into every part of my body. I turn around, but the door is gone, replaced by a high snow bank. I hurry along the path. Already it feels like I am beginning to freeze, but just a couple more feet ahead and I reach the door. My numb fingers fumble a moment before I finally stumble across the threshold. I… I don’t believe it! I’m back at the very beginning! Where I first started! I’m standing in the vaguely circular juncture of all of the twisting, turning, crossing corridors, and all the other little corners and nooks! I am still extremely cold, shivering and moving around to try and get warm again. Then, I feel something… somewhere... a subtle shift. I watch as the little wooden chair in front of me transforms into a small couch with thick, soft looking cushions and high arms. Some of the halls disappear, to be replaced buy a fireplace. I slowly walk over to the couch and sink down, just staring at the dancing flames as they begin stretching their fingers of warmth out to me. So, I’m here again, only now it’s slightly different. I did all that looking around, all that exploring, all that walking and… I glance down at my hand again and shiver. I’m not sure where exactly I’m supposed to go or what I’m supposed to do. I curl up on the cushions and close my eyes. Although it is warm and peaceful here, I find that my eyes are stinging with tears. I sigh softly and just rest, since that seems all I can do right now. I feel a bit hungry. Then, with only a thought, I realize I have conjured up food and drink. I begin to feel sleepy now, and in my half drifting state, I think I hear whispers and other soft sounds coming from other hallways and behind doors and around corners. I push it all away, because I’m pretty sure it’s only my imagination. After a moment, there is just the soft hiss and pop of the fire. I curl into a more comfortable position, and wish that I had someone here with me. Then, I feel a presence; someone beside me, their arms around me. But I am almost enveloped by sleep now, and I can’t tell. Is that real, or am I just imagining it, too? I wish, and hope, that it is real, that there is someone here, as I fall into slumber.

Music Spell

My fingers slow down again as I type... I’m having a lot of trouble concentrating. My idea keeps weaving in and out of focus, and my mind is straying into random places, but nothing truly or solidly coherent. I get a few more sentences down before I stop again. I lose the slippery thread of focus, and close my eyes as I listen to the music that is playing. And then… The fog comes. After a moment or two, it disperses into a light mist that shimmers ever so slightly as it slowly drifts. I notice that I can still hear the music. The colors around me seem to meld together and blur a bit, as if everything is made of bleeding watercolors. There are muted points of light, mainly in shades of purple, silver, blue, and yellow, that shift and dance, as if hypnotized by the music. I can feel a sort of soft thrum in my veins. The mist brushes against me now and again, as if unformed ideas are tentatively asking permission to enter my being, though my mind remains nearly empty. Everything seems to flow in, out, and around me smoothly. As the music fades away, so, too, does the realm around me. I open my somewhat heavy eyes. I decide to stand up and stretch a bit; it feels almost as if I have been sleeping. There are many reasons why I enjoy music; this is one of them. Something like that does not happen to me with just any kind of music, and certainly not all the time… but I like it very much when it does. 

Thee That Hath no Name

Hello.

This is the second installment of the brain fog adventures. This one was stubborn, and refused a handle, so nameless it shall be. :P 

I lift my head from my shoulder yet again, and set my keyboard aside. Air hisses through my teeth as I pull myself up straighter. Lovely… Now I’m hot, sweaty, and painfully stiff. I’m not going to be able to write anymore today anyway. How is my brain supposed to work properly in this heat? My limbs are weighed down with lethargy, and my head feels like a stuffed animal. It’s all just blurry and foggy and… Foggy? Oh, so this is happening again, is it? Well, it’s literally how I feel, so why not? All I really want is to cool off and have my head cleared. I squawk with surprise as I feel my body hit water. Holy iceballs! Actually, it isn’t really that cold, though it feels like it at first. I find that my feet can touch bottom, and the water is about shoulder height when I stand straight. I let my eyes fall closed with a sigh as my head slips under briefly and then emerges. Without thinking, I begin lazily swimming around. It feels really, really good in here now. Not too cold, and thankfully, not too warm. For the first time, I notice that my feet are touching mostly smooth stone instead of sand. Interesting. I look around. I am glad that my head is not under water, because the scene before me is breathtaking. I am in what appears to be a spring, the water gently flowing around me. There are some uneven spots in the stone; even a few places to sit around the edge where it is a bit shallower. A foot or two from the pool, the stone gives way to grass, trees dotting the terrain, and I can see mountains rolling away in the distance. I’m not sure if the stone and grass is geographically or geologically correct, especially since I haven’t been very many places, but it doesn’t matter all that much. I could change this place into a cave if I wanted to. I don’t; it appeals to me very much. The temperature is still very hot, but the water is refreshing, the sky is cloudy, and there’s a soft breeze. All things that I enjoy. I am content to just swim, float, let the water wash over my skin. I suddenly blink, and then blush. Well… I’ve never… But I am alone out here, after all. I share an impish grin of satisfaction with myself, and whatever little creatures may be around me. I keep moving languidly around in the water. It feels so very wonderful… I could stay here all day. I decide to do just that. When night begins to fall, I use the uneven stone to climb out, and lie in the grass. This time the breeze moves over my skin, slowly helping me dry off. I close my eyes and smile. I can hear the quiet hiss of wind moving through the trees, crickets, a few birds, and a rumble in the distance. Thunder. I tilt my face towards the sky, letting another breeze kiss my skin. Then... I open my eyes… Everything has faded, and I am back in my apartment. I sigh longingly, and head for the temporary relief of a long, cool shower.

An Idea

Hi there.

It’s been quite a long time since my last post. A lot of things have happened in my life, but I’d run out of room if I tried to tell you all of them, so I’ll just skip to the most interesting part, and the star of this post. I made a discovery that I think might help me with something I love doing, but I wanted to give you a bit of background first.

You might be able to tell from my previous blog posts, which I have decided to keep after some thought, that I am a pretty creative person. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. I’ve been doing creative writing for years. It’s a passion of mine, and something that defines part of who I am. However, there’s something that you might not know. All throughout those years, i’ve struggled with very severe writer's block and brain fog, and not for all the reasons you might think. 

It was never that I didn’t have enough time, or that I was too afraid, or that I was setting impossible goals for myself. I would simply just blank out. Sure, sometimes there were situations, like feeling unmotivated, losing or trying to find inspiration, being in a less than ideal environment, etc. But a lot of the time, I would think of something, begin writing, and then at any time during this process, everything would just blank out. There were times where I would look at what I’d written so far and ask, “Okay... what was I doing with this again?” sometimes I would still have the main idea for a piece, and I would read what was there, and it would just sit in front of me and spin around and around, and sometimes I just couldn’t think, no matter what I tried. Even when I tried to not think about it, and then come back to it later. My mind would keep floating and drifting off. So, it wasn’t that I lost the inspiration or the idea, but that I just couldn’t seem to focus, whether it was light or dark, noisy or quiet, warm or cool. Thankfully, there were also times when I managed to get back on track, even if there was a bit of a struggle. What I wanted to get done got done, even if there were many, many breaks, or if it took days, even if it was just something short.

Unfortunately, the foggy brain part also likes to interfere in my daily life. There have been a few times when this has happened even while talking. I would stop in mid-sentence, because I had completely forgotten what I was saying. This has gone on for quite a long time, and I never knew why, until I recently discovered that part of it is due to a medical condition. I won’t get into all of that here, suffice it to say that at least now I know that I’m not dumb, just not good enough, or losing my creativity.

Now that you know all of that, Time to come back to this discovery that I mentioned. I recently made an awesome connection on Twitter. She reached out to me, and we started talking. I answered her questions, telling her a bit about my love of writing and the troubles I’ve had in the process. She mentioned that she helps to delve into things like this, teaching, giving advice, and helping to come up with creative solutions to many different problems. She shared her Youtube channel with me, and I checked out some of the videos. It was during this that something clicked with some of my own thought processes, and an idea sparked. The idea was this. A story that uses brain fog in the literal sense, and does it to my advantage. I’ve written things similar to this, but not in this context. The premise is that if and when I get stuck on something, I am surrounded by literal fog, and then Something Happens. A thought, an adventure, something of my own making. A place where I am transported by the magic fog. In doing so, I am acknowledging that part of me, instead of just getting frustrated, or thinking I’m just losing brain cells. She explains this in one of her videos, in fact. Since things like fantasy, magic, and poetry are already my strong suits, I am able to simultaneously stretch and relax my imagination with this exercise. I thought it would be a good idea to start blogging these little… Episodes, if you will. i’ll share my first story in this post. since brain fog is what these center around, I have named this first one appropriately.

Brain Fog

I smile as I sit down to write. I just got this great idea. It’s really fun. See, I have this unique... uhh... this... what was I just saying? Oh, no... not again! I sigh in frustration. This happens a lot. Sometimes even for easy things. But... wait... I blink several times. Everything is... actually all gray, and it feels dewy. Is this real fog? But... but how? I blink again. Sure enough, it is. In the room. Hmmm... I glance around again. I notice that the gray is shifting and swirling gently. I sigh, somewhat dreamily, wishing that I could fly somewhere, like into the trees. Somewhere in nature and... I gasp, and my mouth drops open. I’m in a forest. The ground beneath my feet is soft and slightly spongy. I inhale, and smell fresh air, earth, leaves, wood, and something soft and slightly sweet. Some kind of flower? Or maybe several kinds. My wings flutter a little as I take another breath. My... wings? Another flutter. My wings; I have wings! I fly up to a sturdy branch and sit. A laugh of delight escapes my lips. I’ve never been able to climb trees, and now I can just fly up and choose a branch. I look around as I hear the beat of another pair of wings. A bird? I’m not sure. And then more. Yes, it must be birds. I can hear soft chirps, whistles, and hoots, and one or two other sounds I can’t quite place. Then, I hear a voice, which makes me jump a little. Oh my lanta! It’s my love! What’s he doing here? I shoot up from the branch, somehow knowing where to go instinctively. We embrace as I laugh again, then share a kiss. He says he wanted to come see me, even though I’m in another world. I wonder how he found me. My eyes show with interest when he tells me that he knows a little spot I’d like. I take his hand and let him lead me to... Oh! I stare as we touch down. A lake with fresh, clear water that reflects the colors of everything around us. Waves lap gently against the shore, the iridescent ripples sparkling. The thick pile of the grass is warm and soft. I catch a whiff of... roses! A tangle of wild rosebushes, the crimson petals open in full bloom. Oh, how badly I want one, or a few, or an armful... A hand comes up to cover my mouth as he approaches the roses, picks one, and removes the thorns with a wave of his hand. He tucks it behind my ear, his hand lingering on my cheek for a moment. He asks me if I want to swim. I respond by running into the water. Before I can protest, he comes up and wraps his arms around me from behind, pulling me under and then releasing me. I splutter as my head breaks the surface. He laughs as I splash him back. We just be silly, not caring what the residents of the woods make of us. It is dusk now, though still warm. We slow down, still standing in the lake. I can hear crickets starting to gossip... probably about us. He takes my hand and leads me towards the center of the water. He just winks when I look at him questioningly. He takes my other hand and pulls me closer. Somehow we float without having to tread. We move in slow, lazy twirls, almost as if we were dancing. I smile a little as “Kiss the Girl” pops into my head. He chuckles softly, as if he knows what I’m thinking. We spin just a little faster; it feels almost like dancing on air as we move through the water. Then, we begin rising, until only our feet graze the surface. Now we’re dancing on the water and... oh... oh wow... now we’re going higher. We are gliding on air! It feels... well... like magic. I hear nature’s orchestra, and... something else. Soft... music? Yes. I think, somehow, there is music. It seems to fit in with all the other sounds. Not overpowering them, but weaving together. The effect is spellbinding. We move through the air until we gently land back on the grass. As the dance continues, he gestures, and tiny sparks of light appear, floating all around us. I look up into his eyes... and then am hopelessly lost. Lost in it all, and never wanting it to end. After what seems like forever, yet also only a heartbeat, the dance slows, until he leads me to a place where the grass is a bit thicker. He sits, gently pulling me down with him, where I settle on his lap. Everything is so nice... so perfect. The smells, the sounds, us nestled so comfortably. I begin to feel heavy; my eyes drift closed as the tiny lights ride the breeze into the sky, where they hang like stars. I hear him murmur and whisper, though I don’t catch the words. I feel him softly kissing my face as I sink deeper, my head on his shoulder. I try to open my lips, to speak, but warmth and fuzziness surrounds me as everything slowly fades away. After a moment, I blink. Gray. I had felt a subtile shift when I’d tried to speak, but it was there and gone. And now... the gray fog again. It clears, and I find myself back in the room. I feel... sad. My heart squeezes a little. I sigh, but even still, my heart feels so full, and I smile. I only hope that one day I might return to that place, or another just as wondrous.

My first honorable mention

Hi there, it's good to be back!

I know that it is been a very long time since I have posted in this blog, but I am now picking back up the thread, and hopefully making it better than it already was.
I thought that I would post A short story that I wrote about a year ago or so. I still think it could use a little bit of tweaking, but you know what they say… You are your own worst critic. Anyway, here it is. I hope you enjoy it!

The Grove 

By: 

Jessica Arnold 

 

  Hannah sighed to herself and rolled her eyes as she tried to block out her Mom’s stupid stories. There they were again—she and her two younger sisters, Amber and Mary Beth—a week before Christmas, sitting on that warn couch and listening to the soft lilt of her voice as she told tales about magical lands and flying reindeer. Hannah didn’t believe in mystical, magical things; she had faded out of that stage after their Dad suddenly passed away. It had been two years, but she remembered the way she and her sisters used to sit on his lap, listening to him spin wonderful tales until his words became their dreams. He would do it all year round, but the winter stories had always been Hannah’s favorites. She always got so caught up in them, no matter how many times he may have told them before. She would dream about those lands, and all the creatures within, and make secret wishes. Then, when Christmas morning would finally come, she was always amazed at the gifts that the entire family would get, even though they were tight on money. She never knew quite how it happened, but they always had wonderful Holiday seasons, even when they didn’t get as much sometimes. She had never believed that her Dad, her wonderful superhero and storyteller, could just go away and leave as he did. After it happened, she tried to dream about magic, tried to remember the feelings, tried to visit those lands again, but found she could no longer see them as clearly. As time passed, she slowly drifted further and further away. She now knew that there was no such thing as magic, and that silly dreams and wishes would not come true, for if they did, her Dad would be sitting in their living room right now. 

 

  A log from their old fashioned fireplace popped in the licking tongues of flame, snapping Hannah out of her dismal thoughts. She heard her Mom’s soft voice again, and again, she sighed. It wasn’t that her Mom couldn’t tell stories, because she had done it as well, and she was just about as good as her dad. But everything felt different somehow. Hearing her sigh, her Mom paused. 

 

“Is something wrong, dear?” She asked. 

“Mom, I don’t know why you must tell those silly tales.” 

“Well, you didn’t think they were silly so very long ago,” her Mom replied softly. “But if you don’t want to listen, you can do something else, like go collect pinecones and good felled branches for some decorations to lighten this old place up a bit.” 

 

  Hannah scowled, but she grabbed her coat and stuffed her hands into the thin, winter gloves she got two Christmases ago. She took a small wooden basket off the hearth, and headed out the door. She didn’t see why they needed decorations; they didn’t even have a Christmas tree, and this entire affair was dull anyway. However, she thought of her sisters. They were, after all, still children. Why should they be deprived of some silly things every once in a while? So, she went behind the house, and entered into the woods not too far off their small backyard. Deeper she wandered, absentmindedly sucking on a small homemade peppermint stick. 

 

  She kept walking, until she finally spied a couple of thick pine branches near a fat, squat tree. Picking them up, she knelt to peer underneath. Three pinecones lay side by side, and she took each one to add to her basket. In the end, she found four more branches and seven more cones. The last cone, however, lead her to an interesting sight: In the distance, a few beautiful evergreens shown in the waning sun, their needles greener than anything she had ever seen. Though she didn’t really know why, something compelled her to go over there. It was snowing softly now, and the wind whistled through the woods, creating a haunting, winter melody. Hannah realized that the trees were a little farther than she thought, but she kept going. The grove was larger than she imagined, with pines clustered in staggering numbers. She was about to turn back, when she saw that there was a small gap between two trees. Before she knew it, her feet were moving, and she was pushing through the gap. She looked around, and was completely surprised. The snow in this area was white and pristine, untouched and sparkling in the dapples of the dull light from the late afternoon sun. She seemed to be in a rough circle of thick, tall pines. The grove that she had stepped into was large—so large that she could barely see the other side. Smaller, but still very full and healthy pines dotted the area, their branches covered with a dusting of snow. Dumbfounded, Hannah set her basket down by the thick trunk of one tree, and slowly walked around. Some places had soft, rolling hills, but most of the ground was level. There was still a breeze whistling softly through the trees, and as she listened, she thought she heard faint singing. Shrugging, she stepped deeper, the snow crunching softly beneath her feet. She stopped again and listened; she thought she heard the distant tinkling of bells. 

“Oh, get ahold of yourself.” She said under her breath. Looking closer, she saw that there were also Poinsettia bushes dotting the terrain, their red and green foliage making a lovely contrast to the mostly white background. They were fully in bloom, and gorgeous! She felt that this whole place had an aura of haunting peacefulness and beauty. 

 

“Hello.” A voice said beside her. Hannah jumped, whirling to her right. Her eyes widened in bewilderment. Standing there was a lady garbed in a robe that was as white as the snow. It was trimmed in blue, the color of frozen waters. Her hair was silvery blue, like a winter twilight, and upon her back were beautiful wings. She was a winter angel. Hannah gawked; she couldn’t help it. This couldn’t be real. 

 

“Hello, welcome to our land,” The angel said. “We’ve been expecting you.” 

“But, but…” Hannah sputtered, “Expecting me?” 

“Yes.” Hannah looked, and saw three more women approaching them. They were all dressed in pure white or ice blue. She noticed that one had long, silvery hair, while the hair of the others was either light blue or white. 

“Please, won’t you join us?” One of the others asked. Hannah was trying to think of how to reply, when she gasped as something whizzed past her head. She thought she heard laughter. Another flew near her right ear, reversed direction and came back. More and more appeared, some landing on the heads and shoulders of the angels. 

“Little sprites, our guest has arrived.” Said the first angel. They all quieted, clustering around the group. 

“Welcome to our land!” They exclaimed in their small voices. Hanna saw that they were tiny human-like figures, and they, too, had wings. All were blue—some ice, others sky. Each one radiated with a slight but welcoming glow. 

“Snow sprites?” Hanna asked. The angels nodded.

“They are our friends, and they help keep the place looking nice.” Said the third angel. 

“Come,” The first angel said, “It is time for the celebration to begin.” Hannah followed as everyone moved toward the center of the grove. Upon arriving, she saw that there were a few more Poinsettia bushes here, as well as a full, tall blue spruce. The spruce was decorated from the little yellow flowers of the Poinsettias and small pinecones that had been strung together. There were also some sprigs of Holly with plump, red berries set in the branches. It wasn’t exactly a Christmas tree, but it was a beautiful rendition. A bit farther stood a little cottage, smoke gently rising from the chimney. Icicles hung from the roof and window sills, and the walls were the color of gingerbread. The scene looked like something straight from the front of a Christmas card. 

 

“Shall we go in?” The second angel said, opening the door and ushering them inside. A blast of warm air engulfed Hanna as she stepped in. It felt good after being in the cold. It smelled wonderful, like fresh bread, sweetmeats, and an underlying scent of pine needles and mint. Suddenly Hannah’s stomach grumbled furiously. Everyone gathered at a table in the middle of the room, and food was passed around. Hannah ate with them, and listened to the stories shared after the meal. They reminded her of her family, but strangely, she only felt a slight pang of sadness and longing for her Dad. There was no bitterness at the world, no disgust at hearing stories once brought by his lips, and no anger for his leaving. She wondered if she wasn’t going completely crazy. However, the more time passed in the cottage, the more relaxed she felt. After the storytelling was over, they all went back outside, although Hannah didn’t want to leave the warm fire. 

 

  The angels gathered around the big spruce, along with all of the sprites, and put on a grand show. They sang a beautiful melody, and the sprites moved around them as if they were magical little lights. It almost had a hypnotizing effect on Hannah. Then, they put on a graceful dance. They glided along, twirling and weaving about in an elegant pattern, like a ballet. The sprites also flew, since they were much smaller, and they had tiny bells that tinkled when they moved. At the end, most of them settled, and seemed to disappear into the snow for a moment. Then, suddenly, they exploded out in a cloud of white, and as the resulting shower of snow fell over them to settle back in its place, they ended the dance with a wonderful climax. Hannah was in awe. The sprites began flying around the tree, and each had a small something in their hands, which was exchanged by all, even the angels. The first angel held out her hand, presenting Hannah with a small glittering snowflake. It was made of metal, but it sparkled like gold. 

 

“I can’t accept this.” She said, staring at the gift. 

“Why, of course you can. The sprites made it, and all of us,” She gestured at the other angels, “Blessed it with good tidings and the Lord’s protection. Always remember that he is here.” 

“Thank you.” Hannah said reverently, closing her fingers around the snowflake. For some reason, she felt tears forming, but if the angel noticed, she said nothing. The wind began blowing just then, and snow started falling, swirling and spiraling in the air. 

“It looks like we’d better get inside. May you and yours have a wonderful future filled with happiness.” The second angel said. Hannah was about to reply, when the snow began coming hard, and the wind picked up, blowing thin drifts from the ground and whisking the falling flakes about. It was so thick that the whole land seemed to disappear for a moment or two. Hannah had to shield her face and hunch from the cold. Just as she was starting to wonder how she was going to get back, a final and brief gust buffeted her, then died away. The snow also lightened up, and Hannah found herself standing in the woods, holding her basket. She was a bit dizzy and disoriented, so she sat down on a stump. The woods looked normal, even the pine grove which seemed so huge. She blinked, then slowly opened a clenched fist, revealing the little snowflake. 

“So they were real!” She breathed. After a moment of sitting, she found she could navigate again, and that she was cold. Picking up her basket, she headed in the direction of her home, back to her wonderful family. 

YOU THINK YOU KNOW US AND WHAT WE DO? WELL GUESS WHAT, YOU DON'T!!

Hello, everyone.

Recently, there has been a lot of buzzing around the matter of senator Rick Snider's new proposal for the Commission for the Blind. Many have read the documentation of his plan in an article, and a mob of disturbed, angered, and opinionated voices is rising quickly. On the outside, the proposal looks virtuous and helpful, but with all the professional and lawyer-based grammar, they could be talking about murder! ;)
Snider says that he will make things better. However, we as a blind comunity know better than that. We know what happeneds 9 times out of 10 when our "well being" and "common good", Etc. is put into the hands of the sighted who are "new and unaware". They know not what goes on behind the scenes of us, but rely on statistics, studies, and impersonal, data-based research. The same applies here. He doesn't know the stories, experiences, and journeys of the Commission/students. He doesn't know the triumphs, struggles, battles, or losses, the memories, new discoveries, and life-changing lessons. He doesn't know in what ways people were helped, how their outlooks changed, how their social skills, among others, thrived, and what kinds of impacts were made on lives. He doesn't see the core of the Commission, all he sees is an organization who has certain duties/responsibilities that it must follow. I urge you to look at this petition, and sign it for the thousands of visually impaired/blind/deaf blind students who will be forced out of college, and the workers who will lose their jobs, both Commissioners and students. If you cannot sign, then please share to help spread the word, and ask your friends to sign and share. Here is the link:

http://twitition.com/oc6ox

Back to the Blogging Board

Hey there everyone!

I'll bet you all were wondering if I was still alive. Well, yes, I am. And, proud to say, back to blogging! Thanks to mobile blogger app, it is quite easy for me to post blogs--no more accessibility issues here. :) now, the next question is, what to post next? So, if you have any suggestions and:or ideas, feel free to let me know! Thanks and have a blessed day all. :)

Bumps, Keys, Voices

Hello, everyone.

I know it has been a very long time since I've written in this blog, hopefully that hasn't scared you away. LOL. Anyway, today I have an interesting topic.
Now, this may not be the most interesting thing for a sited person to read, but please just give it a chance, for me. :)
One of my friends on Facebook posted a comment about making a bet on whether or not braille would become "extinct", and placed a bet. This, in turn, started a very interesting conversation. There were many different opinions, and it would take me all week to write them all--my fingers would fall off!!! Anyway, it got me thinking: I never realized just how important Braille is. I mean, I've ALWAYS used it, so I guess I just never gave it much thought. However, the issue of braille meterials already being hard gto find is not recognized by the general public, nor is blindness in general very familiar to them. Braille has been around ever since its creator, and our hero, Louis Braille, has romed this Earth. If not for him, we wouldn't even have a way, be it old or new, to read or gain access to printed meterials that are esential for daily life. I believe that, in order to keep this thing going for as long as possible, we should try to get more people educated on the subject, as an individual and a whole.People need to know that not all of us can live upon technology alone, if at all. And, if more people know about it, the easier it may become to get it out there, and to make some of the stereotypes and/or myths go away. Now, I'm sorry if I've bored you beyond your grave, but I hope you agree. Plus, Braille is interesting... like a foreign language. At least, that's what I've been told. LOL. Okay, that's all for now.

Thans all,
Jessica

WHITE GLARE to GREEN GLOW

Hi there, everyone!!!

It's been quite a while since my last little entertaining story. Hopefully you enjoy them. This is one of my special posts. I've only had two others--one during Christmas and the other during Valentines Day. You all remember "CHRISTMAS with FAITH", and "HEART BEHIND the HEART"? If not, then you can visit my previous posts and take a look if you wish to do so. Those were just little contributes to special days and/or times that I feel deserve to be recognized. Although this is not a special occasion, I know that most of us are probably very, very excited for Spring being upon us, right? Well this is just a little salute to spring. Hahahaha. Okay, here it is, hope everyone likes it:

The bitter snows are shrinking away,
The Earth grows warmer with each passing day.
Things are beginning to blossum and grow,
The haulted waters are starting to flow.
The air is filled with the smells of spring,
And if you listen you can hear the birds sing.
So just take some time to look around,
You won't believe how many things can be found.
Everywhere, life starts anew,
A toast to spring, here's to you!

Hahaha. Okay, that was my little "party poem, my toast to the upcoming spring!" Yes! Let's not take for granted all of the wondrous beauty that is around us, whether you can see it or not, hear it or not, feel it or not, smell it or not, or taste it or not. Have a very nice spring, everyone!!

Best Wishes,
Jessica

Heart behind the heart

Hello, one and all!!!

Well, as you all know, today is February 14th, Valentines Day. Some of you may have heard the story behind Valentines Day, the history of how the day was created, and of the figure St. Valentine. Some people say that this man was a mythical creature. You can believe whatever you want to believe, as for me, I believe he was real, and I'm not afraid to admit it!

St. Valentine was a kind-hearted, god fearing man. He was a wedding priest, who wasn't afraid to show his feelings and speek his mind. He fought for what was natural and right, and he followed the laws of God, not the laws of man. The story tells that the powerful king of his land wanted to outlaw marriage because of the soldier count, and because he believed that the married soldiers were taking too many days off to see their families and acting all lovey-dovey instead of fighting in battles. He thought that they were growing weak because of families, so he outlawed marriage. The priest Valentine, however, would not stand for it. He spoke out against the king's law, saying that it was morally wrong and that he should reconsider, for that was not the way God would want things. He secretly held marriage ceremonies, and also helped a man, who, I think, was one of the king's servants, or guards, or something like that, who also spoke out against the immoral law, break out of prison. Afterwhich, he performed a marriage ceremony for him and his love. The king found out, and was outraged. He was thrown in prison for holding secret ceremonies and for speaking out against the king. The king told him that if he gave up his faith in his God, and only followed him and his laws, that he would be freed, and St. Valentine refused. (Now, I cannot remember whether or not if this is before or after he was thrown in prison.) While in prison, he made friends with the jailkeeper's daughter, who was blind. Her father had told Valentine that she was worth nothing but to serve prisoners bread in a prison chamber because of her blindness, but Valentine convinced him otherwise. He showed her that she was worth more than that, and told her to ask the Lord for her sight. He had strong faith, and one day, while on her duties, her sight was suddenly restored. On the morning of Valentine's death, she brought him flowers, lillies, from the garden, and before he was killed, he wrote her a letter, and her tears fell. After his death, it was proclaimed that on that day, February 14th, would be declared Valentines Day, in memory of the good St. Valentine. So every time you get a gift of any sort, or, in this case, a heart-shaped box filled with sweet candy and chocolates, always remember that there is heart behind the heart. Well, I hope I didn't mangle that story too badly. Smiles and cheers! Be back soon.

Warmest wishes,
Jessica

space

Hello, everyone!

I am sorry that I have not been on my blog for a while-I've just been kind of busy, and I couldn't think of what to write, but all that has changed. As you have heard before in my blogs, this blog was inspired by a very very good friend of mine. Do you remember Bahzy? I know, who could forget Bahzy, right? I don't think anyone could. Anyway, he posed a very cool and, of course, symbolic scenario, and a flame sparked in my imagination, which became a small warm and glowing fire, if you know what I mean.

Have you ever thought about how wide and vast space is, with millions and millions of stars lighting up the night sky? What about a winding trail through a thick wood or through a mountain range? I know what you are thinking: How are those things connected? What does one have to do with the other? Think of it this way: in space, you could get lost very very easily-especially if you have no one to guide you to your destination. Even if you start off in one direction, you can very easily get lost because there is no visible path, no siderails, no directional signs, etc. On a winding path through a thick wood or a mountain range, you can get very lost just by taking one wrong turn... some people whom have gotten themselves lost in the wilderness or in the mountains have never made it back. The point here is that without the proper guidance, one can very easily lose their way in life. You must always remember to stay on the strait and narrow. Keep to your original path, and don't go astray, or you could end up never coming back... which is not good at all. LOL! Okay, I think you all get my message pretty well, I need to sign off of here and go to sleep. So good bye and good night to all. And if you read this during the day, then good future night, I hope you have a very pleasant present day, and sweet dreams to everyone. Be back soon!!!

Best Wishes,
Jessica

Shuffle and Deal

Hi there, everybody!

When you read the title of this blog, you're probably thinking of a card game, right? Well, that's a good guess, but it's not quite what this blog is about. Have you ever sat through a long card game where the dealer of the cards keeps shuffling the cards, mixing them over and over again before finally dealing them? Well, whether you have or have not, has it ever occurred to you how similar that action is to our own lives? Many times, when life hands us a deck of cards, we shuffle them until we are satisfied with our choices, and then we deal. Each card may represent a problem, hardship, or something that we don't know how to handle. We shuffle over and over, trying to sort out our feelings and problems until we've come up with the correct tactic to deal them by. However, sometimes we can have trouble dealing with our problems, emotions, feelings, etc, and we are stuck with an unorganized deck that we keep shuffling, not knowing when or how to deal them out. Now, I'm not an expert in this matter, but I can tell you that we usually have two choices: we can try to deal them out to ourselves and try to play the game alone, as in a game of solitaire, or we can deal them to our friends and loved ones-those who want to play-and let them help us along. More often than not, when a person plays a game of solitaire, they lose instead of win. The same goes for us. We can't deal all our cards alone all the time, sometimes, we need some help. How do I deal my cards? You may ask. How do I deal with things that are new or complicated? What do I do when tears finally stream down my face for no real apparent reason? What exactly does that mean? Well, those questions I can't really give you amazing answers to, because I still don't quite know myself. However, I can tell you this: you will never be alone. If all else fails, you've always got God on your side. He'll look over your shoulder and whisper the cards to deal and how to play the game. He will guide you. You may have the support of at least one family member, but if you don't, you always have your friends. Even if, especially in the case of a child, it is an imaginary friend. Just one true caring friend can make the biggest difference in someone's life. And, of course, the more you have, the better it can get. So remember, when life hands you a big stack of cards, just try to deal as best you can, having faith that you'll get through it. There are no promises of being unscathed, but you'll get through. Just don't be afraid to ask for a little help. Don't be afraid to let your friends and family reach out and offer their hand in the hard and long card game of life. Even if you may not realize it, there is someone out there somewhere who cares about you. Bye for now.

Warmest and Best Wishes and Support,

Jessica

You Don't Have to Jump With Your Eyes, Only Your Feet

Hello, everybody!

Wow! You will never believe the day I had in Science class! It was Oodles of fun! We did a project today involving power. Guess what the whole class did. We used a jump rope. Yup, that's right, a jump rope. Well, it turned out that I had a presentation from an earlier class, so I was wearing heels. The teacher said that it was perfectly fine for me to take my shoes off to do this. When I got up to go, one of my friends said that she didn't think I could jump rope. (Not in a mean way, she just didn't know.) So, when I got up there, the teacher started the stopwatch, and we had to jump from one end of the room to another. Which is exactly what I did. I didn't miss a jump, and the whole class was flabbergasted. I ended up getting an applause from the whole class. I made my way back to my seat, looking at my friend on the way.
"I thought you said that I couldn't jump rope." I said playfully. She smiled and said:
"Yeah, you can." We both laughed about it, and I had a lot of fun. So remember, you don't need your eyes to jump, just take a "leap of faith" and go with the flow.

Bye for now,
Jessica