WHY AREN’T YOU FAMOUS?

super

Several years ago, my good friend Bruce told me that I was finally going to get to meet her mother. She was dropping by to pick up some crystals Bruce had bought for her. In case you’re wondering, I did ask Bruce if, by any chance, she had been named after a family member and she said “Yes. I have an aunt called Bruce.” Anyway – I digress. Bruce had already told me that her mum was a little ‘odd.’ She was, apparently, a psychic and had no ‘filters.’ She said whatever came into her mind and, if you didn’t like it… well, tough noogies. Being duly warned, I put Bruce’s mum out of my mind as we got on with our visit.

AND THEN, THE DOORBELL RANG.

Bruce’s mum walked in; her mouth fell open and her eyes grew large. Without even being introduced, she stared at me and said “Why aren’t you famous?”

Me, all flustered and confused; “I, I, I don’t know!”

Bruce’s mum, with a look of disappointment and a hint of disgust; “Well, you’re supposed to be.”

And that was the end of that. Bruce’s mum grabbed her crystals and left. To say that I was flabbergasted would be an understatement, but that wasn’t the weirdest thing about this confrontation. I felt embarrassed.

Embarrassed by the outburst of a crazy woman? NO. Embarrassed at myself? YES. I felt like I had been exposed. Exposed like Clark Kent would have been if the geeky glasses were ripped off and the cape waved in front of his face. “You are Superman! SUPERMAN, you idiot! What the hell are you doing, pretending to be a mild-mannered reporter?!”

You, with bated breath; “Go on! Go on! What happened next?”

NOTHING. Nothing happened. I stuffed this milestone revelation into the back of my memory, polished my geeky glasses and carried on pretending to be a mild-mannered reporter.

What happens when you keep acting a part you were never meant to play? Slowly, the threads start to unravel and you scramble to hold it all together. But it never works. In the end too many threads fray and you fall through the hole in the net you so carefully crafted.

For me, the net finally broke a year ago; almost to the day. It’s OK… it was never really MY net anyway.

Meanwhile, in an ancient box covered with spiders’ webs, there is a shiny suit and a cape that need to be dusted off.

Bruce’s mum would have been proud.

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Buried, deep.

Reading other writers’ poems, I often find their creativity sparks something in me, as well. Here’s what I unearthed this morning!

😀

Note: OK, so having seen my lovely, foofy, unreadable font on the page (we won’t do that again, will we?), here it is in good old readable font.

BURIED, DEEP.

Trying on different lives to see what fit
I found my own skeleton buried deep
beneath a mound of costumes.
Crying, softly, as I remembered who I was;
And lifting my bones gently from their early grave,
I washed them clean and clothed them in myself.

BURIED, DEEP.

buried-deep

Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday: Prompt words – Fog and Change

Join us for Colleen’s Tanka Tuesday: Prompt words – Fog and Change

Great choice of words to get the little grey cells in my brain working! 😀 Thanks, Colleen! ♥

fog-and-change

Photo courtesy of Pixabay.com

THE FIRST – AND MOST IMPORTANT – LESSON:

 

Welcome to my new blog. A new approach for a new phase of life.

I do hope you enjoy it and come visit often!
GOLD DRAGON

A Mythical Menagerie.

THE FIRST – AND MOST IMPORTANT – LESSON:

Life, The Universe, And Everything.

 

Dragons are entities with the wisdom of eternity. Many of us may not believe in THEM – but, this simply amuses them. They DO believe in us.

They have to. It’s their fault we’re alive.

They love us for our childlike curiosity – for how we seek magic; and then ignore it when we find it.

Dragons are not gods; even THEY did not foresee everything that would be set in motion when they chose to take corporeal form.  And, even they did not know that they were magic. No… not ‘magical,’ and certainly not really mythical. They are not even the SOURCE of magic. They are MADE of it.

Every atom of a dragon is the spark of LIFE.

We would not exist without their magic.

It took them a very, very long time to realize this, but, when they did, they took it seriously.

*******

You’ve all been wondering about this Higgs boson thingy? Well; here it is, in a nutshell. The Higgs boson particle is magic. Pure and simple. Life is magic and magic is life.

A dragon will not cease to exist (unless it chooses to do so; which is a whole different story. It may take on a new physical form, but the effect of ‘time,’ which was unknown until well after the dragons chose physical forms, is that everything that lives, dies. That is the irony that stirred ‘life’ into existence. The life/magic that permeates the dust as the dragon’s body breaks down is moved all over this universe. Wherever it lands, life grows. Everything that lives has at least one dragon particle in it, and some living things have the power to draw more magic to themselves.

Dragons laugh at the idea that the meaning of life, the universe, and everything is ’42.’

The answer to THAT question is – quite obviously – ‘dragons.’

There! Doesn’t it all make perfect sense now?

You’re very welcome!

 

Wendy Anne Darling ~ ‘A Mythical Menagerie.’

WHY AREN’T YOU FAMOUS?

 

Several years ago, my good friend Bruce told me that I was finally going to get to meet her mother. She was dropping by to pick up some crystals Bruce had bought for her. In case you’re wondering, I did ask Bruce if, by any chance, she had been named after a family member and she said “Yes. I have an aunt called Bruce.” Anyway – I digress. Bruce had already told me that her mum was a little ‘odd.’ She was, apparently, a psychic and had no ‘filters.’ She said whatever came into her mind and, if you didn’t like it… well, tough noogies. Being duly warned, I put Bruce’s mum out of my mind as we got on with our visit.

AND THEN, THE DOORBELL RANG.

Bruce’s mum walked in; her mouth fell open and her eyes grew large. Without even being introduced, she stared at me and said “Why aren’t you famous?”

Me, all flustered and confused; “I, I, I don’t know!”

Bruce’s mum, with a look of disappointment and a hint of disgust; “Well, you’re supposed to be.”

And that was the end of that. Bruce’s mum grabbed her crystals and left. To say that I was flabbergasted would be an understatement, but that wasn’t the weirdest thing about this confrontation. I felt embarrassed.

Embarrassed by the outburst of a crazy woman? NO. Embarrassed at myself? YES. I felt like I had been exposed. Exposed like Clark Kent would have been if the geeky glasses were ripped off and the cape waved in front of his face. “You are Superman! SUPERMAN, you idiot! What the hell are you doing, pretending to be a mild-mannered reporter?!”

You, with bated breath; “Go on! Go on! What happened next?”

NOTHING. Nothing happened. I stuffed this milestone revelation into the back of my memory, polished my geeky glasses and carried on pretending to be a mild-mannered reporter.

What happens when you keep acting a part you were never meant to play? Slowly, the threads start to unravel and you scramble to hold it all together. But it never works. In the end too many threads fray and you fall through the hole in the net you so carefully crafted.

For me, the net finally broke a year ago; almost to the day. It’s OK… it was never really MY net anyway.

Meanwhile, in an ancient box covered with spiders’ webs, there is a shiny suit and a cape that need to be dusted off.

Bruce’s mum would have been proud.