To me, divine femininity is the traits the goddesses I work with shed light upon when they spoke to me. Divine femininity has many meanings to me: I’ve come to realize it is the preservation of my virginity, which is more of a byproduct of my asexuality. Divine femininity is my motherly instinct, which has given me a stronger sense of empathy and the desire to protect those who I hold near and dear in my heart. Divine femininity is my dream to start a family, and although I do not plan to birth my own children, I dream of the day I am able to adopt a child…or three. Divine femininity is all of these things and so much more which I have not yet found the words to describe.

I am sad,

lonely,

angry,

forgotten.

It’s almost as if

I’ve fallen off the face of the Earth,

floating deeper and deeper into the abyss,

watching as my world

gets smaller and smaller.

No one notices my absence,

no one looks for me,

hidden away in the dark corners of my mind.

Everyone keeps following the same mindless routine,

everyone keeps going about their lives

as if I never existed.

I cry out for help,

hoping someone will notice me,

but it’s as if I’m a ghost

lost in limbo.

I’ve become so fucking distant

from all of my friends.

I’m sorry,

but I can’t stand

being the outsider

even among my closest friends.

I can only have a conversation that begins

“’Are you coming to the party tomorrow?

…

Wait, no one told you about it?

Oh, I guess we forgot to tell you,

but do you think you can attend?’”

so many fucking times

before I begin to feel left out.

No, you did not tell me,

once again you left me out of your plans,

once again

you try to blame others for not inviting me

even though you tell them

time and time again,

not to invite anyone outside of your little group chat

you refuse to add me to.

You know what?

no,

I won’t be going,

fuck you and everyone else.

Spare me the bullshit

and tell me straight up

if you really wanted me there.

I’m tired of wasting my time and energy

trying to get your attention,

it’s obvious you don’t even bother

to look up once in a while.

If you stopped running your damn mouth

and talking shit about people…

good people for that matter,

you might be able to realize

how absolutely toxic you really are.

Enough about that,

I’m so emotionally drained

by the shit that’s going on

in my personal life,

I literally don’t have the energy to care.

Why so serious?

that’s the question you propose.

The answer,

I’m afraid,

is not so cut and dry.

Why so serious?

I suppose

it’s because I feel so alone,

so empty inside.

It feels as though

my life’s so dull

there’s nothing left to show.

I carefully disguise

my woes and strife

behind a mask

made from lies.

Why so serious?

is what you asked me,

well, my friend,

it’s because it’s the only thing

holding me together.

Kids these days seem to be more alive,

maybe that’s because I’m getting older

and havent felt the liveliness

or the youthful innocence

in many long years.

Their laughter brings me such joy

as I remember the "good ole days"

of finding great joy

in the smallest of things.

Don't even get me started on the young ones,

the toddlers and the tykes,

who I absolutely adore.

Kids are life's greatest gift,

blessing us all with their charm and wit.

Welcome to Arizona,

where it's summer year round.

Welcome to Arizona,

where the cactus are the prettiest things

in sight,

(not counting the girls in crop tops

and very short shorts)

Welcome to Arizona

where it's so hot

you stick to leather car seats

and burn your hands

on just about everything.

Welcome to Arizona,

where we have a magnificent canyon

that attracts rude tourists.

I wonder who named it

The Grand Canyon...

a rather lame name

for such a beautiful place.

Welcome to Arizona,

where triple digit temperatures

are normal;

where we laugh when someone tells us

how hot 70° and under is.

My mind is racing,

producing thoughts

a mile a minute.

I try to reach for one

but it dissolves into a fine mist

wrapping around my fingertips.

I haven't slept much lately,

the thoughts in my mind

keep me awake.

Shut up I'm trying to sleep!

Surprisingly I'm not too tired...

...

okay that might be a lie;

I'm a little tired,

my eyes feel heavy,

my mind feels fuzzy.

My thoughts are

like white noise,

a neutral background sound

I've learned to tune out.

But that doesn't stop

my heart from racing,

my body from shaking,

my breathing from quickening,

my blood from turning to ice

and freezing me from inside-out.

I have never felt so

calm in my mind

while experiencing the restlessness

I get when I have

an anxiety attack.

I should probably sleep,

but I've got so many ideas,

so many thoughts

speaking to me.

Some of them are straight up weird

what even is a platypus?

they're like half beaver, half duck,

half...I don't even know what.

Some (most) of them

are the most random thoughts

one could ever have.

I wonder if frogs enjoy riding each other...

that sounds...no. just no...

I don't understand how people

take me seriously,

I don't even take myself seriously.

I think I'm pretty funny...

I crack myself up

more than I probably should.

I'm known for being

a little sh*t,

not because I'm a trouble maker

or the spawn of some mischievous demon,

rather because I'm sarcastic.

I'm known for roasting people,

not on a spit

although it's meant in light spirits

and it's obvious my intent

is to joke around.

Now would also be a good time

to mention

how f*cked up my sense of humor is.

Nothing cracks me up more

than a morbid joke,

especially one that's really messed up.

Speaking of jokes,

wanna hear one?

God told John to come forth

and receive eternal life.

John came fifth and won a free toaster.

Haha that joke cracks me up

every single time.

I feel high as a kite

even though I haven't used anything.

I'm not into that stuff

if I'm being honest.

I think it's mostly delirium

meddling with my mind,

giving me a slightly loopy perspective.

I feel like I'm floating

even though I'm pretty much

dragging myself through the school day.

I have to work tonight...sh*t.

Well this has been fun,

thanks for listening to me rambling on

about absolutely nothing.

I'm going to read this later

and ask myself what I

was thinking,

why I was thinking.

Oh well, I don't care today.

Bye bye

It's Fourth of July,

we got together with our neighbors,

who are like an extension of our family.

Before they come over,

I help my mom clean our house.

She cleans the sliding glass door

leading to our backyard

because it was pretty gross,

decorated with dog slobber streaks,

some old, some new.

A few hours later,

our house is clean,

clean enough you could,

theoretically,

eat off of the floor

(not that you would want to,

we still have messy two dogs, you know).

Guests start filing through our garage door

and the party begins.

Because the weather here

in this desert of a home

is so unbelievably hot,

the misters and the cold pool

do nothing to cool us off,

we decided cold beers and sodas

were the best way to go.

We have a few side tables that are coolers,

perfect for the occasion,

so we sent my neighbor Nick

to run inside and fetch some ice.

I remember talking to someone,

standing in my living room,

when Nick walks by with our ice tray.

Boom!

Crash!

Nick runs right into the sliding glass door,

which he thought was open

because it was crystal clear.

Ice spills all over the wooden floors,

shattering into hundreds of little pieces;

my dogs go crazy,

ice cubes are their favorite.

The house,

which was alive with the chatter

of old friends

and music playing over the speakers,

suddenly gets dead silent

except for the music,

which keeps playing.

We were all in shock

for a good five seconds,

asking ourselves if that really just happened.

It did,

it was the best thing I'd see

for the rest of the night.

Forget about the fireworks

we planned to light later that night.

The only thing I needed

to make the night memorable,

or even entertaining,

was watching Nick

and a couple other clueless people

run into that sliding glass door.

In a time where there is so much fear

and hate

towards the men and women who put their lives on the line,

it’s important to recognize

and remember

the services they provide

for our communities, 

for our cities,

for our families.

When I hear about everything

that’s happening in the world today,

I can’t help but sympathize

with the cops who are using their power

for the better;

the cops who are doing good things,

who are doing what they can

to protect,

to serve,

to uphold the law they promised to uphold,

only to receive backlash.

There are good cops

and there are bad cops.

The bad cops in the world,

the ones who’ve killed innocent people

like George Floyd,

have committed unforgivable acts.

What Derek Chauvin did was inhumane.

What happened to George Floyd

was something that should happen to no man,

to no woman,

no matter what race they are.

George Floyd did not have to die…

but he did;

it upset a lot of people 

and rightfully so.

But it shouldn’t have put the reputation

of so many good cops

in the crosshairs.

It is my dream to be an officer,

a protector of the law,

the protector of my community.

For countless years I have watched and admired

the bravery of those who wear a uniform,

who represent the color blue.

Stories of fallen officers,

who gave their life to save others,

seemed to taunt me

as if they were trying to change my mind,

but unrelenting I still dreamed

of wearing that uniform.

Stories of cops who abuse their power

try to rip that dream away from me,

but unrelenting I stand strong

and hold onto that dream.

When people look at me in disgust

as I tell them I want to join the force,

I feel my spirits crush.

When did the symbol of protection and safety

become a symbol of hatred?

Whenever I saw the flashing blue and red lights

and heard the wails of the sirens as they pass,

I would wish with everything in my being

that those behind it would make it back home.

There are those who don’t make it,

for them my heart aches;

I hope they know,

wherever they end up after life,

how much their service means to me.

It's an unpopular opinion,

trust me,

I know,

I just don't care.

I almost lost a good friend because of an argument.

He called me racist

because I support the police.

He called me racist

because I support those who protect.

He told me I couldn't be pro-LGBT

without being anti-blue

because of some restrictive laws

that are supposed to restrict our rights.

Alright Karen,

whatever you say,

your arguments were bullshit anyway.

The quote made my brain spin just trying to understand and process how it read, let alone understand what it means...

It's an interesting quote, although I'm not sure how to utilize this new piece of data. I like the idea of knowing what the signs are when they reveal their presence, but I have a hard time "trusting the process" so to speak. I find it difficult to trust my judgement when it comes to anticipating something because of my fear of misunderstanding situations. This is what I get for being hyper aware of everything. :P I do believe there is some truth to the idea of being able to detect and recognize signs, whether they be tied to faith or even a shot in the dark. I am reminded of this documentary I saw on Amazon Prime Video called Hellier and a recurring theme was that of synchronicities, which are interpreted as coincidences that are so specific they can't be just a coincidence. The main idea behind synchronicities is that they seem to manifest themselves more and more often as you dig deeper into something, especially something that cannot be easily explained without touching into higher entities, divine beings and the supernatural world, hence why they are often interpreted as signs from the universe that are guiding you closer and closer to the answers you seek.

The most impactful mentor I had was my lead Colton, who was like an older brother. I worked with him for a little over a year until he quit. He helped train me in the dining room and helped me get to know the hallways better when we switched to room services. He has given me continuous support, never doubting me, never scolding me nor making me feel inferior, especially when I erred. He knew I was working hard to gain recognition and consideration for a lead server position as soon as one was open and often pushed me out of my comfort zone because he knew it would only strengthen my skills; whenever I struggled with the tasks he'd assigned, he would a,ways guide me through it, giving me words of encouragement, showing me an easier way to go about things. When we had a shortage of people in the morning and afternoon shifts, he respected the fact that I stepped up and worked a 12 hour workday for seven days straight, putting me in dishpit, or as phone and prep for the night shift. i remember cleaning the server aisle and hearing one of my coworkers complain about how I was put on phone duty and in charge of making sure everything was prepped for the morning crew for the fourth day in a row and he told that coworker "if you want to have an easier task, step up and help out the morning/lunch crew, because that's what J has been doing every day for the past week." As a newbie, that was huge for me. we were tight, but not because we were best friends, but because we knew the other would always have our back. We had a mutual respect for each other that allowed us to work so well together. over the course of the year, he would introduce me to the residents, helping me get familiar with their names and their typical orders, with their mannerisms and how to reassure them if they were having an episode. (I work with the elderly, many of whom have early stages of dementia). i have nothing but fond memories of Colton. I miss his "high on life" vibes every single day and work just isn't the same without him.