Life is not always a sea of roses but an incessant ocean. It is a quagmire of occurrences. A room of lifeboats. A roller coaster of hurdles. An inexplicable mayhem. A chest of drawers. It is full of curves and curvatures, ups and downs, loops and bounds, hills and downhills, scales and balances, tornados and thunderstorms. It is a twenty four hour merry-go-round of not so jolly and friendly skies. It is an handkerchief of events, a broken tray of popcorn not always at our disposal. We learn to dance to our favorite songs when things don’t go our way. We may not always get what we want but are given a book to look through and solve the puzzle. The menu is not always in black ink but one can never go wrong with a good scrambled egg. Life is always about choices. Either you drive in the turnpike or design your own nest. Living does not require much or equate purgatory. It can be one walk in the park if you know how to navigate its trails and accept its daily dosage of bourbon. Breathe. Create your own adventure and ride that bus as you may find yourself at the tip of the road begging for that perfect ride. Face today with gusto. Choose to live and praise your possible authentic self!
nature
Picture Of The Day: Meet Mimi
Don’t I look pretty? I know I do. I love my new look, the sunglasses, the bow… too bad summer is almost over. Hoped you had a wonderful Labor Day weekend. Hey, I just stopped by to say hello and to tell you that I am having so much fun, I want you to do the same. Live your life like it is no tomorrow. Let it fly, fly away… oh wait, that’s right, I can’t fly. Much love, xoxo
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It Is The Light, The Bright Light
It is the light, the bright light, at the end of the tunnel. The candlelight, the dim light, a little weak and yet strong, the beautiful light, so luminous and yet far. It is the light that the wind blows through, fleetingly weakening it, unrelenting, without care or concern. It is the radiant light beaming through the night, out of sight and yet there. Undeterred, she strikes back. Undefeated, she returns, soldering on but in one unappealing night, she gives in. Exhausted, it is to be no more, the party is over. Unprovoked, the wind returned, unapologetic, with all its force, throwing punches from everywhere in every direction, without measuring, unrepentant. And without decorum, abruptly, the light is turned off, debilitated, for good. Defeated, she does not return. And the tunnel sits there, in the dark, empty, unescorted, defenseless. In the meantime, the wind, weeps.
ludlum drive 
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