Art Of Silence
the postman may always ring twice for Lana Turner
but not for me
no more
Silence
in that sacred space created
a beauty of mind
Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
the postman may always ring twice for Lana Turner
but not for me
no more
Silence
in that sacred space created
a beauty of mind
I was always choosing between a relationship and my cherished
and essential alonement
my connection to Self
denied for dozens of years
choosing validation by whomever wanted to fuck me
I couldn’t sleep anyway
There was nothing else to do with my rage and sorrow
no one believed me – everyone hid in the shadows of shame
I was a broken exile machine piled
exiled in the house I grew up in
so I ran
I moved into an apartment on New Year’s Eve about a mile away from UCLA with my canine child Zoe, an American Eskimo mix. I thought as most people do that Westwood is a safe, upscale place to live. I told the building manager, Alia, I worked during the day Read more