I need a brake. Put on the breaks. Brake the bad news. Lunch brake. Heart brake.
Sure the grammar’s ssa srdawkcab; but think for a moment.
My heart has been broken into pieces. Time to brake my heart from loving so carelessly for awhile.
I might need time for myself – a break from the world. But I gotta slow the world down so I can jump off – brakes applied gently.
Sauntering by a local café or ice cream shop at noon should be part of a lunch brake, not break. The subtle way our crazed, insane, “hepped up on goof-balls,” bizarrio, make-no English language works or doesn’t work. Is our language breakened or merely have a crackled broke to be krazy glued?
“My mayday quote today emphasizes that recovery isn’t always like the opening credits to a Disney fantasy, with whistling birds, fluttering butterflies, and singing flowers. There are teary days, bitter, brittle days. Some times extremely disappointing days as you feel it’s been a backward slip, perhaps too great to overcome.” she admonished.
“But, remember ‘my worst days in recovery are better than the best days in relapse,’ which is what makes it worth the struggles and the tears,” she sighed.
Broken the word bank, so I need a break. Thanks, LindaGHill for another great : Stream of Consciousness Saturday.
WHICH I JUST REALIZED I NEVER POSTED. AND IT’S WEDNESDAY (I THINK)