Monthly Archives: August 2017

What do we do?

Hell if I’ll be militant.

Hell if I’ll be hateful.

Sh*t in between isn’t exactly impactful either.

I grew up under Obama.

Came up under bush Jr.

Was a child with the Clinton and Reagan reign.

What I’m doing now is the best I can do because this “president” is as close to Hitler as I hope we ever come.

I can’t be peaceful and hippie and Hycaeit via 1969. I’d be that girl again. But the world came forward and now we’ve gone behind. So we have to catch up.

I’m not mincing words anymore.

You’ve heard it before.

Everyone has.

Didn’t hear the warning? Your bad.

You’re bad.

Not me. Not mine.

Catch up or shove off.

There was a time for peaceful protests and we tried to break it to you gently.

You didn’t hear it.


Decades of protests

Years of the same words.

Try to take us backwards


HELL. you can’t take us all down. Not gonna happen.

We win.


Because the battle was fought and won.

You’re trying to erase it.

Good luck. We have the high score.

Try unplugging the macine😋

To letting go, by Andrea starr

I don’t know why I’m sending this or if you’ll even get it. I guess I’m hoping for the latter. Or I’m just crazy and can’t seem to let you go.

The words have been swirling in my head for a while now. Over and over, what I’d say to you, yet, they’re t really clear enough to actually call you and say them to your face.

Maybe I think writing them down will help to truly wash my hands of you. Please accept my apology if I ramble on a bit.

I’ve heard things here and there and I do genuinely hope you’re okay.

I guess, in a way, I have to thank you for the shady things you’ve done to me.

I know that everyday you have to live with them and, deep down, I hope you feel some remorse.

Though a big part of me doubts you do.

I’m now out traveling the world.

I just hit my 38th country.

I know I should hate you and despise you, but, I can’t.

I’m not that kind of person.

Against better judgement, I forgave you a long time ago. You’re part of who and what has made me into what I am today, sitting on the beach of an island in Australia. Looking up at some of the most amazing stars I’ve ever seen.

Even so, it brings me back to us drinking wine and watching airplanes come in over the valley of the desert in “our secret” spot. A spot that I never shared with anyone else.

As much as I think you’re a sack of shit…

Part of me loved you and you’ll always hold a place in my heart.

Part of me knew you as you knew me.

Part of me saw you in the weak forms.

The times when no one posts a fake image on social media.

The parts that are personal.

The parts that resonate with the intimate aquaintances.

The gross faces.

The bad bits.

The zits and the rolls.

The double chinned angles, and the waking breath.

You, more than most people, know how hard I am to crack. How hard it is to get into my heart.

Somehow, you managed to do that.

It makes me sad and angry and happy all at the same time to know that you accomplished such a monumental feat.

Without you I wouldn’t be where I am today.

I guess there is sometimes a feeling…

A feeling that the moving on will never happen and it will never be over if the chance to say what needs to be said doesn’t come.


Closer to the new start and old comfortable feelings.

The feelings I had before we met.

I’ll be different when I let you go because of all we’ve shared, but it won’t be a different soul in me, just a new perspective.

I’ll be free to claim my spirit again and see it with new eyes.

Eyes that couldn’t see this way had we never met.

In part the change comes from your actions and partly because of mine. Some of it caused by my experience and some caused by things you did.

This moving on, it’s never certain. How is it done? Is it right? Why do I feel this way? When is it over? All I know for certain is,

I get to be me again.

That’s my greatest gift.

That’s everyone’s greatest gift.

It must be done.

I’m done.

It’s over. No matter what was left unsaid.

No matter what we didn’t get to do.

Its done.

We are done.

I am done.

And I get to be me to once more.

No matter what.

No matter where.

No matter who I leave behind.

I get to be me once more.

To emma

To my beautiful girl, I give you these words.

Well, my dear, it may seem this world was never meant for us, not the way it is now, not the way it has been. But, my darling, nothing worthwhile was made perfect from the start.

Everything craved, lusted for, and containing real value started in someone’s dreams.

It took molding and shaping and relentless perseverance on the part of some Great Creator to turn dirt into the smooth painted walls of the cliff.

The painted desert walls of Southern Dakota or the Grand canyon. The dust had to gather and settle and harden, the river had to etch in it it’s name. That is what it takes to make true beauty and art and YOU, my precious darling, are art.

They’ll lie to you every day.

You’ll see these lies on television, in movies, on billboards, from sources deemed reputable by leaders and authority.

You’ll hear them in songs and out of the mouths of the ones you trust,


listen to my voice, child.

Let it ring loudly each time you need it.

I’ll scream it into a jar for you to keep safe.

I will tell you the truth as I’ve learned it the hard way and I’m telling you now that this truth will not change.

You’re beautiful, that’s true.

But what can that body do that will last more than a century?

Nothing more than a memory in the minds of those you meet will that body become.

Your mind is your asset, your strength, your own source of energy and with it you will create poetry and think great thoughts that will be repeated endlessly by others who seek to feel your souls starlight.

Your strength and your will.

Your wit and your might.

THEY will travel through time while your body will rot, but not the fruits of your mind.

Your voice will echo forever if behind it you place intentions that are pure and words that are wise.

Your soul is sacred and eternal so let it be free and unspoiled, untainted and untethered by the fleeting expectations of a society that is only as valuable as a tear drop in the sea.

If you let them smother you with their misguided truth and intentions, you , my sweet girl, will break your own heart.

No one can break it from the outside because, unlike man, you are not made of stone, but of gold.

Malleable and soft, precious and rare. As they try to break you, you will bend and stretch under the hammer.

You will sway as their screams of inequality create hurricanes of wasted wind, because some Great Creator that cannot be fathomed made you with a great purpose.

It is one that will remain unexplained until you are capable of understanding it and strengthened enough by experience to head into it without fear while holding His hand with a faith that no religion could contain.

You, my sweet one, are exquisite, far beyond the words of all languages combined.

There is no term for what you will become because they will coin one when you reveal what it is you were created for. You are capable of creating the future we have fought for and the one you deserve.

The responsibility may seem too great and too heavy and you may falter and fall but never give up, never stay down.

Your spirit is a magnet and others will join you to help you carry the weighty load and together you will become more than the bearers of life but the creators of a world worth living in.

You, my little girl, can do anything and no one can stop you for you are magnificent in a way that transcends their realm of understanding and enters into one that exists to you alone.

You are a dancing and sparkling spirit, affecting change, fortifying the future with goodness and justice.

You are a gift to all mankind and should be treated as such, without exception.

They will try to lessen you and attempt to dull you down and this is the time to take out that jar.

Open it in front of them and the screams of those who’ve fought the battle before you will force them back and deafen them.

They will fall to their knees.

The strength is yours.

The wisdom has been freely given and rightfully earned.

Use it and never forget that your power requires no explanation, justification, or excuse.

It needs only an outlet in the form of a song, an essay, a speech.

Whatever you choose, if you use it well and with grace and love, it will live inside the souls of the ones you’ll save with it, for eternity.

You, my baby, can do anything.

Let no one steal that from you with noise and normality.

With these words I deliver into your hands your own destiny. In your hands is where it belongs. Hide it from no one so others may see you and seek you out. Let them be fortified while taking shelter under your wild wings above. Teach them to be strong. You’re more than they’ll allow you to realize, so, I’ll tell you now and repeat it as often as needed. You are the way forward, the answers, the truth. Shine bright, little darling. Be brave, teach others, stay true. You are the future you’re wishing for. The entire universe lives inside of you. Use it.