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- Feather In Our Hand August 23, 2019
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Tag Archives: Facebook
I got another email from Adriana today. At first I was annoyed at her repetitive messages. However, now as the months have gone by, I am starting to worry about her. She really doesn’t seem to be able to move forward in life.
She said she chatted with me quite a bit on Facebook before I deleted her. I can honestly say, I don’t recall any of that. Nothing, nada, zip. She does admit a little further in the letter that maybe she only chatted with me a couple of times. I wonder if this was while I was on those serious morphine drips.
She keeps saying … Continue reading
Blogger Kendall F. Person isn’t kidding, in my opinion, when he says: “Writing is a performance art and every post is a show”. When the notion of blogging first came up via the semi-gentle prodding of blogger Lois, I thought, really? Would my personal musings, normally put down on paper in a private journal, have a place in the public realm? Not that the public realm is necessarily a bastion of expert, or even semi-good, public offerings. Was it possible I could land somewhere in the semi-middle?…
…Whatever the long term purpose of this blog is to be, I am ever hopeful that it helps to serve as much as I get from it. I might also hope that the next time I’m rear-ended by a foot, I may more quickly remember that, many times, if not most, inspiration comes in the form of a good bump and some bruising. Continue reading
I admit I was somewhat shocked at that charged-up energy coming at me. There are all kinds of ways to respond, but at the time I was more engrossed in the issue that precipitated the results of her research and it didn’t really register. Continue reading
For the record, I love seeing the things that make my friends, new and not so new, tick. I like to see what makes them laugh. I really do enjoy the hilarious ‘what we did this weekend’ pictures. I love hearing what kids have managed to accomplish, I love to see the pictures of joy posted from all over the world. I freely admit my life is far from overly glamorous or exciting. I must live vicariously. Or is that creepingly? Continue reading