Category Archives: Writings

MwsR Writings

There can be great sadness in the “unknowns” of things, yes I made my own word there.
If we look to create a circumstance our minds are more than able and ready to run with it.
Sadness…madness..worry…doubt…fear
These emotions and thoughts can fade our optimism through time if we let them.
When we lose that hint of hope…we lose.
Keep optimism….keep hope
I dare say make a hopeful circumstance or thought.

Thank you for reading 🙂

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Blue (from Blue’s thoughts)

I know how it feels to be scared. I have spent most of my life being scared. I have felt like there was no-one to trust but many to fear. The ones who were suppose to help me and keep me safe, are the main ones responsible for the fear I have inside. I do cope, if you could say that. Sometimes I relive things and sometimes I imagine things . Using different scenarios I will let my own mind move through it all, until I see what lies at the end of that particular scenario. I have always felt like that is what keeps me from totally cracking or falling apart. If somehow I could imagine things and have myself deal with those imaginations, of worse case scenarios, I would be more prepared and equipped to deal with them should they become a reality. I guess.

A lot of things have happened to me that only I know. As is the case with others, I’m sure. I remember lots of things but never really all in one sitting. The remembered parts of my life, come in segments , sometimes at different months, years, or days. Nothing really has to “set them off”. The thoughts of remembering, just happen when they want , usually. I don’t think anyone could really understand the way my life has truly felt for me. I doubt anyone has a decent clue, even. I have talked about things at various times and those listening will sometimes just nod. Sometimes, those listening to my stories, will comment on what I have told them. None listening or commenting really help me to feel better. In fact seeing their expressions make me feel more isolated, more misunderstood. It is a vicious cycle. I want others to know, to hear, to feel what I did, but how can they, really? Is it even possible?

There has always been that voice inside my head that tells me, “Maybe you have made up half of the stuff you think or say has happened.” It eats away at my mind’s sanity. I mean it could be possible, couldn’t it? Then there is the pain and feelings I felt that flood into my everyday life, into my reasonings, my thoughts, my pain. That would have to be real, right? I mean I have seen or read about someone making up things that they truly believe has occurred or been done to them. They believe in what they have said and feel so much, perhaps they have unannounced to them, convinced themselves of something that is erroneous. I have no doubt that our minds are very powerful motivators for things we do and the actions we do as well.

Why was I put in the life I find myself in? Why must I constantly doubt that true love is something I have, will have, or is even meant for me? I constantly doubt the sincerity of people’s actions, and I question their motives. This comes from the fatherly betrayal and from my own mother’s problems with me, and in dealing with her own life. I find it hard to let myself just relax and lean on another person. It is and has always been a long and strenuous journey for me to come to terms with. However, I must keep going through it, trying to understand it, and keep love in my heart. It would be so easy to not care for anyone, or even myself. I must constantly tell myself I am worthy of love, real love. I must also tell myself that there are genuine people out there with genuine feelings for me. I must never stop believing in faith and hope and charity. Never!

MwsR


Author’s note-

My journey is not the most terrible one that has ever occurred. There are people that have experienced extreme treatments and hurts, and have had awful lives, at the hand of another person. I believe each person is different, feels things differently, and deals with things in a fashion that is appropriate for them. For me, my home life,, has it’s share of secrets, heartaches, and sadness. It is not however without good times, happiness, and love. This has always been my own story, my own life. Being Blue has been one of the hardest burden, to bear. I hope that one day I can help others, the way a few have helped me, by telling the story, so many live and know, as well. I hope in sharing my life that others will find the strength and the courage, for whatever battle they find themselves facing.

Thank you for reading 🙂

A TIME, by MwsR

There comes a time to care, and a time to disappear.
A time to forgive, and a time to move on.
A time to cherish, and a time to learn from,
A time to accept and a time to reject.
A time to hope and a time to give up.
A time to be last and a time to be first..
A time to talk about, and a time to keep silent.
A time to walk away, and a time to stay.

There is only this one life!

Don’t allow yourself to give to another and get nothing in return.
Don;t allow yourself to be used, or hurt, just because someone forgot your worth.
Don’t allow your heart to be wasted on selfish individuals, spend that energy loving the ones who are there, stood by your side, and will love you

Thank you for reading 🙂

Shatter-ling, By MwsR

Nothing was worse then the thoughts in her own mind. Sometimes she looked for a place to which she could hide. Often she sat and her mind worked through a situation.One that had not happened and that really gave her no satisfaction. Why must she torture herself that way? What was the reason in her mind she would replay? Things that needed to be forgotten, people in her life that always seemed rotten. This was the way most of her mind would be, she was not sure, ever, what tomorrow would bring. She was a Shatter-ling. She was easily shattered. It sometimes took just a look, but mostly it was from mean and hurtful chatter. Whenever she was faced with what others thought of her ways, she felt cornered and caged, just like an animal, who has to stand against someone else’s rage.

She would literally shatter a little more than the last time. Maybe it all was something just in her own mind. Either way she could not seem to matter, instead each argument, each taunt, would send her spiraling down the highway of matter, back to where she would eventually shatter. Being a Shatter-ling meant things would not bounce off of her, instead they penetrated her. Each time would be like the first, to her. Didn’t matter much if it was intentional or not, all she knew is it hurt the same , as if someone threw at her, a giant rock. To be a Shatter-ling was not a good thing, it was hard and trying, and a very difficult thing. She wished she could be like her friends and family, the ones who let things go past, and the ones who never seemed to be affected by someone’s tongue lash. She just wasn’t. She probably never would.

Thank you for reading 🙂

MwsRWritings

It seems by looking in from the outside no one really knows anything.
It can be way different from the perspectives that onlookers have than from the inside reality.
Walk with a soft step when approaching someone. We never really know what path they have walked themselves before we arrived.
So much impact people’s lives. So much can happen to change things.

MwsR❤️

Thank you for reading 🙂