The ride down the hill was where I was told I look like a movie star. I never believed I was pretty. I just kept living in the moment. Maybe I just didn’t feel it until my later years, where I am gathering the stories of my life. How is this true. My Doctor just affirmed he didn’t believe me when I told him in a flip statement. I never believed I felt pretty. Have all these years I just been flirting for affection and warmth which never had roots to serve me. I know I like to pose and be looked at with fun, freedom with interchanges in happiness.
The movie of my life is now being written and expressed, being given form with writing. At no time do I intend to express sentimentality or be felt sorry for looking for compliments. I know that the little girl in me has been searching for the party I had in my formative years. The hugs and kisses lost. I said in the first 4 years of my life I was given enough attention for my lifetime. An abundance of love allowing me to smile for my lifetime, laugh and sing and take care of my grieving mother and now I grieve for myself and whatever my beauty might be. I am such a small piece of the earth's surface and I keep this digging, waiting for the water that refreshes me, to be secured in love and my beauty inside and out. Maybe it is just what keeps me alive and willing.
I am famous and living, learning the articulation of moments with visions stretched in time.
Have I told you what I didn't tell you that I do feel famous? Famous for what I didn’t tell you as I ride on a flight and swing of my own. My life has been large and while sadness exists; I have found contentment in watching my life unfold in the many joys and sadness’s. Still I’m looking to believe what I want to tell you. Do I believe that I am smart and pretty. Does it really matter when the world struggles and I have been gifted with so much. I can see my story unfolding as it is and was. I don’t want to be alone, yet perhaps this is what I have to come to terms with?
