Missing

I hate the feeling of having something missing.. You just don't feel whole nothing feels normal and you just see yourself with a hole inside of you. That's how I've been feeling for the longest time now, nobody can seem to understand or know how to help me even. I just want support and the love of family and friends.

Time is ticking and yet I'm at a stand still.. Maybe I beat myself up to much for feeling this way, I'm just tired of crying and not being able to have anyone really truly understand why I feel so down. I need to just be "me" again and I can't even do that at the moment. It's not fair, but then again nothing is fair in this world.

Maybe some day soon, who knows really I could wake up one day and feel wonderful or I could feel even worse then I do now. All I know is I feel "lost" in this world and I can't be "whole" again until I figure out what is the "Missing Key" in my life.

It has nothing to do with money, all though I wish I had more of it... nothing to do with kids or the love of my life.. It's about me and my "wondering soul" that seems to be caught in limbo as I stand alone doing the chicken dance of life.

Hopefully soon, I'll find that missing piece and I'll be "whole" once more!

 -Tasha

 Someone who doesn't take herself too

seriously and can be a goofball.   

Because everyone's a nerd inside,

I don't care how cool you are.

In joy or sadness, flowers are our constant friends.

Since we through war awhile must part
Sweetheart, and learn to lose
Daily use
Of all that satisfied our heart:
Lay up those secrets and those powers
Wherewith you pleased and cherished me these two years.

Now we must draw, as plants would,
On tubers stored in a better season,
Our honey and heaven;
Only our love can store such food.
is this to make a god of absence?
Anew-born monster to steal our sustenance?

We cannot quite cast out lack and pain.
Let him remain - what he may devour
We can well spare:
He never can tap this, the true vein.
I have no words to tell you what you were,
But when you are sad, think, Heaven could give no more.
- Anne Ridler -

The fascination of what's difficult
Has dried the sap out of my veins, and rent
Spontaneous joy and natural content
Out of my heart. There's something ails our colt
That must, as if it had not holy blood
Nor on Olympus leaped from cloud to cloud,
Shiver under the lash, strain, sweat and jolt
As though it dragged road-metal. My curse on plays
That have to be set up in fifty ways,
On the day's war with every knave and dolt,
Theaatre business, management of men.
I swear before the dawn comes round again
I'll find the stable and pull out the bolt.