Gold and beautiful. White waiting for my white vinegar to sift thru my bath’s ceiling … I found this 80 year old lady blogger, Ms. Pat Ford. Can you just imagine how many stories she can tell. Of places, people, events and things she has seen but we will never get to see yet through her generosity her followers like me will have that surreal feeling of being part of her journey. The benefits of scribbling (writing) and nosiness (reading) … wild imagining and restless thoughts. If I have the gift of years, I wanna see myself still doodling around here like she does, me and my thick rimmed aviator glasses, botox free epidermis, still wearin’ my favorite yummy locks with few greys (few lang talaga, may be 10, that’s the most LOL), normal sugar, and never getting caught dead without my usual snappy and quirky self :) . Just a quiet room for a senior netizen ;) … full of her fixations and capriciousness. I get lost in reading. I write "forever". :)
PS
Ms. Pat Ford's last entry was 2011. I found and shared this in Facebook October 2012. Oh well, whatever happens, it's gonna be a life well lived. But i still wish she writes some more ...
I'm a fan. :) |
I like to remember things my own way. how i remembered them, not necessarily the way they happened. I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. My DeLicioUs ambiguity.
... my other garden ;)
About Me
- Irma
- I'm not a graceful person. I'm not a Sunday morning or a Friday sunset. I am a Tuesday 2AM, I am gunshots muffled by a few city blocks, I am a broken window during February. My bones crack on a nightly basis. I fall from elegance with a dull thud, and I apologize for my awkward sadness. I sometimes believe that I don't belong around people, that I belong to all the leap days that didn't happen. The way light and darkness mix under my skin has become a storm. You don't see the lightning, but you hear the echoes.
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Gold 'en Lovely
http://goingon80.wordpress.com/
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