To love oneself fully without expecting others to fulfill inner needs, in fact, so full of joy its impossible not to share the light and beauty we all carry inside.

I found that on the internet…

Something to think about…

Yes it is…

I feel happier today. I’ve been singing my “blinky star” song, writing, organizing, doing laundry, resting my tired feet. The Dark Shadow is disappearing.

And! I clicked on some Facebook link which took me to the U2 site, which I haven’t seen for awhile, and they did a re-design… and get this! They have almost the very same pink-red as I do…. OOoohhh. I’d say great minds think alike, but admittedly, mine is just better-than-average these days.

Look, its occured to me, my earnest observations, my trying to wrap my hands around what has happened, feeling the way I do, has me sounding like just like Glenn Beck.

Alas, that is just how I process things at the moment. If it’s pedantic, or you — unknown reader — take offense, this is not meant to be literary or revolutionary. I’ve got to purge these feelings and thoughts somewhere, and this is where I do it. So, I warn you, what you read is a bit like looking at a car wreck. Just one that is not on Fox News.

There are people who trade in love. I’m not talking sex or prostitution, but love, romance, flowers, holding hands and thoughtful presents. When these expressions are genuine, all is well.

When they are a front to cover depravity, or void, watch out.

Love is addictive. If you’ve had little in your life, it might as well be crack. There are some that can sense this about you, and will prey on of your weakness. Is it their fault for being instinctive? Or yours for letting yourself be bought with gilded “I love yous”?

I’m not sure what the answer is. I know a host of tasks: spiritual, emotional, financial, intellectual, artistic await me, and starting with learning to forgive — including my gullible self.

Bromides won’t make me feel better. Sitting behind a computer, either. I’m going to the gym. Heartbroken, angry, confused, full of hate… every day, I pray, it will get easier.Of course it will. There are other things that are more important.

So, I’ve been talking cemeteries with mom. It’s awful, but on the other hand its nice to know where you’ll end up. We both are interested in a place that does natural burials, with xeriscaping and wildflowers. I found this monument with a dove in the mosaic. It seemed so peaceful; Mom liked the angel. Its ironic that the place I always ran from will be my final resting spot, literally deep in the heart of Texas. I’m happy about that.

My favorite religious event was never Easter or Christmas, but always Ash Wednesday, for the “Remember, O man, that you are dust, and unto dust you shall return.” And to be buried without embalming fluid and a simple casket among Live Oak trees is exactly what I want. To fertilize the soil and join the earth. Dust to dust.

Here’s the pretty mosaic in the tombstone I found.

Look at me. Tired. No make-up. Glasses. Hair a mess. Wearing an large, plaid men’s shirt (Dan’s), this is the author behind the computer. I have just ensured that me and a certain someone will never speak again: I told him I hated him, documented all the reasons I think he’s lazy and selfish, and then for good measure artfully asked him for money. Now, if that isn’t a sufficient and decisive “Do Not Call” mechanism, I don’t know what is. Finally, I feel in my gut he is gone for good.

Half my problem with men is I haven’t been scheming or strategic; I wore my heart on my sleeve. It was the ultimate mystery to me, cultivating feminine mystique — I could never do the “reveal” properly and become a coveted desire. I was always taken for granted, appreciated after the fact, never during. Perhaps if I applied half the cunning and premeditation to my final scene as I did to the entire courtship, then I would be knee-deep in a relationship, and could write bestseller pulp books like “The Secret” or “How to Convince Your Man to Want You.” But then again, I want to be loved for me, as I am, and not clever machinations…. Though I don’t mind employing them to be hated!!!  I need his disinterest. Calling me out of the blue to regale me with his latest reality rewrite is not good for me … though whew, I need to catch my breath. I’ve got my restoration work cut out for me.