All Talk And All Unfiltered

I shot a gun once. In a controlled environment, but I did it. I first said no, became shy of the idea and wanting to understand why these feelings were coming up in my chest. The sight of it sitting on a table frightened me, so why would I want to use it. I received instruction, I cried a bit, body shaking, focused and let go. That is the best way to describe it. It was a feeling of desperation, release, and complete power that I’m here to admit – I enjoyed and could do again.

I try to use my presence as my power, and in my 40’s, have tried to use my words just as much. But even holding a weapon was alluring; the thought that I could do nothing with my mind or persona yet be influential. Yes, it thrilled me, and then emptied my soul. My consciousness won and made me realize that I can’t control that kind of control, nor have the desire to give any effort. Target practice is not worth the high.

How can I now go on to write flowery images of wine? Even before this blog, I was dealing with news of a death, sadness, a little broken heart, a little weight gain – I’m not going on. I’m feeling selfish that I think of how MY world is effecting me, but that is what lays in my lap. I have a new job, a failed relationship, a market work day with a winery representative haunting my crappy planning, and a pressing waist line. That is what I see when I look in the mirror, and it’s not pretty. Add to that an upset stomach every time my innocent nephew walks out the door to go to school, or the fact that grocery shopping could be my last breath on this earth.

I know we aren’t giving up, but we can be sad for a moment as well. But wake up, put on your party dress, and get out the door – there are things to do, and there are ways to be happy.

I’m not giving you a review, I’m not selling a damn thing to you in this blog. I’m here to show you my happy moments. To share with you how I am FORCING myself into a joyous life. Do I do this with wine; sure. Not to get drunk and forget, but to learn and savor someone else’s passion, history, and love for what they do.

And I want to blog, but I’m not in the mood. There is a lot to say, but I got to think about it all first. I’ll let you look at pretty pictures. Pictures are my golden ring, my tooth under the pillow, my first kiss. They wrap me back up in what I think may have happened. Maybe they can shed a little honey and butterflies on your day as well.

While writing this, I received a text trying to pull me back into drama; is it drama if you have created it? It’s going to constantly happen, but just be ready. The text made me dive in at first; a little racing in my chest, my thoughts swimming on how to be witty, reflections appeared on my pillow. This is what I want, this is what I want, this is what I want. But then, vacant. So, who, in the end, is the looser? More on that soon.

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