When did I lose my voice?
I've attempted numerously in the past couple of months to write as fluently as I've done in the past but nothing. Page after page was discarded, and the screen remained blank with frustration. I've been lost. I still am, but it feels like I'm slowly returning to 'self'. The holidays definitely had a huge part in resurrecting my optimism!
Lilo and I partied with as little a care as you can muster when you have to return to a cold, wet yurt in the dark of the night. Not to mention I've been feeling the blues as usual, so every other water hauling trip easily turned into all day affairs as I dilly-dallied on the green chair, trying to sort myself through the tempest of loathing and angst about the nonsense that has resulted from my involvement with my daughter's sperm donor.
And Lilo, poor little Lilo, to lose the comfort of the 'painting house' (the name she gave our previous residence)...Every people that exits from our life, everything she loses goes to the 'market': Daddy, Nana, Lunette the Clown, her purple sip cup. That being said, I feel like she's finally adjusting to life in the aptly dubbed 'Purple Castle'. The fluke is covered with a convex glass dome that lets in a large amount of daylight, which allows her and I the illusion of being 'outside'. I think it's amazing that we live in this place. I can cuddle my daughter in bed in the wee hours of the morning while watching the clouds roll by.
I've attempted numerously in the past couple of months to write as fluently as I've done in the past but nothing. Page after page was discarded, and the screen remained blank with frustration. I've been lost. I still am, but it feels like I'm slowly returning to 'self'. The holidays definitely had a huge part in resurrecting my optimism!
Lilo and I partied with as little a care as you can muster when you have to return to a cold, wet yurt in the dark of the night. Not to mention I've been feeling the blues as usual, so every other water hauling trip easily turned into all day affairs as I dilly-dallied on the green chair, trying to sort myself through the tempest of loathing and angst about the nonsense that has resulted from my involvement with my daughter's sperm donor.
And Lilo, poor little Lilo, to lose the comfort of the 'painting house' (the name she gave our previous residence)...Every people that exits from our life, everything she loses goes to the 'market': Daddy, Nana, Lunette the Clown, her purple sip cup. That being said, I feel like she's finally adjusting to life in the aptly dubbed 'Purple Castle'. The fluke is covered with a convex glass dome that lets in a large amount of daylight, which allows her and I the illusion of being 'outside'. I think it's amazing that we live in this place. I can cuddle my daughter in bed in the wee hours of the morning while watching the clouds roll by.
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