Like the roots of the earth in the hot Indian days of summer, I struggle to find refreshing inspiration for writing.
Nothing tastes good. Nothing quenches my thirst of what I consider “quality” writing. Nothing sparks, there’s no river flow of creativity.
I guess, I shall keep walking… Hoping to find that water. I desire it; I imagine it.
I can almost feel it…
It’s right at the top of my finger tips.
I don’t owe you an explanation.
My clothes are on my body; it’s not a welcome invitation to violate.
My skin color IS my beauty; my history my story. It’s not your ticket to decimate and hate.
My voice is my truth; my right to use it. You will not munipulate and silence.
My actions are my life, my legacy to pass on. It’s not up for you to revise and edit.
My heart lives within me, the element that gives me life. It’s not yours to destroy with your bitterness.
My sexually is my pride. It’s nothing offensive but to your ego.
My spirituality is my peace. It’s not an excuse for your nasty ignorance of unacceptable behavior.
Any, every, and all parts of who I am is mine to own, protect, nurture, love, cherish, and use to further kindness and compassion.
I don’t owe you an explanation!
Thank you, Fandango, for tagging me in this challenge!
Here are the rules:
” When we least expect it, life sets us a challenge to test our courage and willingness to change; at such a moment, there is no point in pretending that nothing has happened or in saying that we are not yet ready. The challenge will not wait. Life does not look back. A week is more than enough time for us to decide whether or not to accept our destiny.”
” The strongest people find the courage and caring to help others, even if they are going through their own storm.”
Three bloggers :
Café Cultivéd 