So Much For That

Photo A.M. Moscoso



We need balance

in what we eat

what we wear

what we read

and how we conduct ourselves

in a Universe that demands

for our survival.



Why is it then

that the ground under my feet

and the thoughts in my head

careen from one place to another

and never make sense.







Why do you hate me so, avoid me at every turn, never answer my call

will we ever be friends?

Will I ever know you



RDP Tuesday: balance

Inspiration Has Teeth

When I was little

my Dad’s mother

insisted that my cousin, a tiny fair-skinned naturally blond child with blue eyes

looked like Shirley Temple.

She insisted my cousin was talented  and special in all  things requiring God given gifts like singing and dancing and being charming.

I was not tiny or fair-skinned or blond.

I did not have blue eyes.

I was told my hair looked like a rat’s nest because it was dark and long and usually messy and that my skin was ‘muddy’ and that I had a ‘grating voice’.

But my Dad’s mother did offer me a bit of constructive advice.

She advised me to develop some kind of talent and to work on my personality because I concluded by the unkind smirk on her face,  that was my only hope at not being a total piece of human wreckage.

I can’t tell you how successful I was, but I’m an okay writer and I’m great with dogs and I’m not afraid to take a punch and my best talent is that I can roll my eyes up into my head and I have no feeling in part of my face so I can stick pins in there and not feel a thing.

Combined with the eye rolling thing, it’s pretty spectacular.

As to my talented Shirley Temple look a like cousin, I have no idea how far her natural God-given talents took her.

She made it clear she wanted nothing to do with my Grandmother or the rest of her immediate family after her Mother died.  Trust me she had her reasons and I don’t begrudge her that. She moved away in her twenties and never looked back.

I, on the other hand was there  just before Grandmother died.

Me and my rat’s nest hair and ‘muddy yellow skin’.

I  wonder if she was disappointed that my face being one of the last she saw and not one that belonged on a Christmas card.

It’s not one of the questions that I wonder about and it certainly doesn’t torture me because

without a doubt

I know the answer.

Daily Addictions Prompt: Develop

I Wrote This

I am struggling with this-

Does posting quips on a comment thread or a few lines about an article that someone else wrote on Facebook make you a writer or a journalist?

I know that when writers and poets or musicians dedicate themselves to their craft they name themselves a Writer, Musician, Artist, Poet.

But a certain amount of passion and dedication brings them to that point. If you do it on Facebook all you have to do is whip your phone out and you are now in the same league as-( fill in the blank) .

I’ve noticed something  else interesting and a bit disturbing on Facebook.

People aren’t just having conversations- they correct each other’s grammar, they fact check each other, they  leave letters ( or comments maybe a better term ) of complaint to each other for saying the wrong thing- or saying someone is missing the point or for being on the wrong side of their issue. It’s  not much different then how they react to news stories from the media outlet of their choice.

I like my friends- the real ones are pretty unique and interesting and the Facebook ones are amusing but I don’t look to them to tell me which way the wind is blowing and I also don’t use those newsfeeds as a way to gain some insight into what they’re thinking.

As a writer- granted I write fiction for the most part- if you want to get an idea about how my head works then my writing is the way to catch a glimpse of that process.

That picture I posted of the cat and dog praying over a piece of pizza they’re going to steal, well all you’ll learn from that is I like cats and dogs. But the WHY won’t be there. I won’t be there because not only did I not take the picture, I didn’t put the funny line to it.

I’m wondering as you can see, does Facebook truly  inspire creativity or healthy  conversations? We can share an idea or a picture and then the trolls come along and who is talking to each other anymore? Nobody because the trolls or someone who just feels like setting the world straight will make it all about them.

It happens ever single time.

Does Facebook  really  have the power make us who we want to be in real life -witty commentators, journalists or writers. Do we really believe that we ‘have the floor’ ( at last )  and that platform provided on a site designed as a marketing tool is on the only one that matters.

To me, the biggest question of all is, if you don’t participate on Facebook do you cease to be relevant, will you disappear, will what you say matter, will anyone know YOU ARE THERE?

RDP Monday: NOTE

Good Anita Marie…Good Job!

When I know I’m being hard on myself or the people around me I have found a great way to approach and change this less then attractive and mean spirited aspect of my personality.

I pretend like I’m dealing with my dog.

I have infinite patience with my dog, I never say mean things to my dog, I approach my daily relationship with my dog  and all it entails ( ha, ha, entails, get it? ) with positive energy instead of dark and fierce negative  Jupiter force windstorm  speed ( they clock them at 384 miles per hour) type energy.

When I’m with my dog, my phone is never with arms reach and when we are out I never answer it or use it unless he does something super cute and I need a picture of it to share with my Facebook friends who like Hamish more then me.

I’m actually okay with that because he IS  pretty darn awesome.

When I envision what the best Anita Marie is like, I go full circle and at each point in that circle see a different Anita Marie with all her various talents and entertaining sideshow type quirks,  I always want to land on and be the person who has learned to be a better human from her dog.

That person is actually a good person. I’m proud to know her.

So if it can be said about me that I treat my friends and family like a dog- I will know with absolute certainty, I’ve done good.


Daily Addictions Prompt: Circle

Go Out And Look

I’ve just finished a biography about  Giordano Bruno  by Ingrid D. Rowland

Giordano was a friar, a writer, a poet and Bruno believed that the Universe was infinite at a time when the understanding of the Universe was somewhat sketchy and that sketchy view was the accepted view.

Giordano studied and contemplated and wrote papers and poetry about the Universe and the Earth and God- and at the point he actually went out into the world and experienced it- the good and the very worst that humanity had to offer- Bruno had been  willing to accept it as it was as it was.

It happened that after studying  with other well heeled young men who were sent to be schooled in a religious order in Philosophy and religion, and law some of his fellow students ended up with keys to the tavern next door and apparently did  they not only carry weapons they carried on with the local ladies too.

Maybe it was at this point Bruno began to realize that people and the world were bigger and less easy to define then he may have concluded.

It took some time but eventually Bruno made the leap from observing the world to participating in it because it was no longer fine and acceptable as it was.

In the end Bruno was burned as a heretic because one of the charges leveled at him was that he did not believe that the bread and wine he took at communion was actually flesh and blood.

An institution demanded blind obedience from him- if he was told that wine was blood and bread was flesh, that’s what you saw and that’s what you tasted and to deny that was to deny God.  End of story. Full stop.

The tragedy was, Bruno was a man of faith and he did see God in all things. It’s just that what he saw was different from the accepted vision.

Now days we are being told that we need to deny what our own eyes see and that unless we see the common accepted vision we are ” Libtards ” or “Uppity “. We are  silly ignorant dupes that have been conned by Scientists and Professors and Teachers.

The common vision being put forth where I live  dictates absolute obedience to a dream world spun into existence by a man and his followers who treat  people who are different from their shared fantasy  as obstacles that they must subjugate in order to have their more perfect union.

So I can rage against this- and I have.  I can back a candidate to the hilt for President and hope for the best. I can keep up with current events.

Or I can do what I have been doing.

I read, I listen to music, I enjoy art and I write. I have been doing that more then I ever because I want to remember that there are good things in this world  and these things deserve my time and attention.

I’m not ignoring that the world is an ugly, vicious place. I will not deny that I have severed friendships with a sense of malicious pleasure because I have zero inclination to ‘listen to the other side.”

Like  Bruno I have come to a time in my life when accepting and working with the world with patience and understanding as it is,  is no longer acceptable to me.

I’ve made that decision because “listening to the other side”  will only work when you’re serious about learning something new with respect and a sense of decorum or you are passionate about becoming enlightened about a topic and frankly, I’m not seeing any of that in the ‘conversations’ people want to have with me.

So why did I chose the picture at the top of this piece? This silly picture of UFO and  Bigfoot riding the Lochness Monster as he apparently flips off the photographer?

I chose it because  the Universe is an infinite place and within that infinite space anything is possible and unless you stay flexible to that reality it’s not going to be a happy place for you.

If you’re going to demand the Universe bend to your will in a predictable way-through politics or crystals or herbs or religion, I’m sure it’s not going to work.

My view is most certainly  not based science, but I think that is how we all got to this cage we are in now.