Howl At The Moon

“Follow your inner moonlight; don’t hide the madness.” — Allen Ginsberg

Do you follow Ginsberg’s advice — in your writing and/or in your everyday life?

-From The Daily Post

I wish I could exclaim, “YES! Of course I let the madness wander.” But I don’t. Not publicly anyway. Not in life. Not in my writing. Why? Well, there’s certain lines of professionalism that I will not cross just to “let it go.” (Cue Frozen.)

To the world, I let the madness go to an extent: If there’s something that I want, I will go out and try my hardest to get it. If I set goals for my self, nothing will stop me from doing that. If I’m scared to try something new, I’ll do it anyway.

I think the most honest way to answer this question today is:

If it doesn’t affect my relationships (friends, family, and the bf), my job or my morals, then yes, I will absolutely follow my inner moonlight and let the madness go.

Privately, though, that’s a whole other story that requires a completely different response. Publicly, I filter myself. It’s necessary to do that in order to survive. However, I think sometimes we need to be able to let the madness go in our heads. We need to let it go in our minds and delve into the depths of our deepest fears. Not everyone has nightmares that haunt them. Or memories that they try to suppress. The ones that understand what it means to try and bury the madness in your head are the only ones who can truly understand what it feels like when the madness takes over.

You can hide it from the outside world, but you can never hide it from yourself.

Ready. Set. Done: Trivial Thoughts

Today’s post brought to you by The Daily Post: Ready. Set. Done.

Our weekly free-write is back: take ten minutes — no pauses! — to write about anything, unfiltered and unedited. You can then publish the post as-is, or edit a bit first — your call.

Writing without thinking? I swear they did this on purpose because of what my last post was! Not fair!

So I’m on the metra home. Living in Kenosha and working in Chicago really isn’t all that bad. I enjoy the commute. I get to decompress after working non stop (usually reading lunch at my desk because I’m just THAT busy. #PositiveProblems) and the. I can write blog posts. Or my favorite: people watch!

People are crazy. And weird. We have strange habits. Most people are awkward on the Metra. I think it’s because you are bound to sit by someone you don’t know. And that person will undoubtedly be super stinky and sweaty because they clearly misjudged the time it took to get to the Metra, so he/she had to run. Yup. Happening as I write this.

But that’s okay. His zone is only one away. Yes, I know every stop on this line and what stop belongs to what zone. I’m the very last stop so I see all the passes. I mean, what else am I going to do during an hour and fifteen minutes train ride?

Oh, right… Write blog posts!

I’ve been really struggling with blog posts over the last few months. I know I have a lot to say… I’m just… Lazy. Yeah, that’s a good way to put it. Great, now I’m just going to go on a rant of me being lazy. Nope.

Topic avoided.

I’m currently listening to Orianthi. She rocks. Literally. See what I did there???

I’m actually typing this relatively quickly for only using my phone. It’s ridiculous how attached we are to our devices. But I get it. I am on a lot of social media. I like interacting with people. I like learning about new lifestyles and different countries, traditions or customs, point of views. I’ve always been an open minded person. I really like hearing everyone’s opinions and thoughts on things.

Okay, this dude is super stinky. My mind can’t stay on one thought right now. But my time is almost up anyway. So I guess I am going to close this post shortly.

This was the first time I’ve done the free writing. And it’s very fun to read everyone else’s randomness and without editing.

Forgive my Grammer and spelling. I’m on a phone. And I’m not editing this.

P. S. GO PACK GO

XOXOXO
Megs

Weekly Photo Challenge: Colour | Blame It On The Alcohol

Image

IN A NEW POST CREATED SPECIFICALLY FOR THIS CHALLENGE, SHARE A PICTURE IN WHICH COLOR TAKES CENTER STAGE. Click here for more info.

Blame It On The Alcohol

Everyone who knows me, knows I love wine. And while this brand is not a brand I ever buy, the colors caught my attention. Color my world in wine, please! It’s no wonder that people are attracted to the alcohol section of grocery stores. The vibrant colors lure us in. “Buy me! Buy me!”

Do you have the willpower to resist?

All Grown Up

Daily Writing Prompt: All Grown Up: When was the first time you really felt like a grown up (if ever)?

The light bulb flickered above my head. Flashes of adult decisions loomed nearby. I refused to screw the light bulb in tighter because if I did, the beam of light would be constant. And then I’d be an adult. Making adult decisions every day instead of just moments in time when the light flickered, and I pretended to be an adult, for just a moment in time, and then I regressed back to naiveté.

Who really wants to grow up? Doesn’t everyone want to be a Toys ‘R Us kid?

Even after I moved from out of my Mom’s house to Chicago, I still didn’t feel as adult-like as I should. The opportunities to blow entire paychecks here are endless: concerts, museums, tours, wine tastings, fancy restaurants, Blackhawks and Bulls games, Navy Pier, dinner and architectural cruises, beaches Sears Tower (yes, it will always be the Sears Tower for me. Deal with it), parks, operas, Millennium Park, too many stores down the Magnificent Mile, and way too many options to get drunk at way too many bars. And this is just the start.

In order to enjoy Chicago and the copious amounts of activities, how could I be an adult? The longer I stayed here in Chicago, the more I untwisted my light bulb: making fewer and fewer adult decisions.

Then, out of no where, a year passed. An entire year–365 days, 525,949 minutes of my life–gone. The most gratifying part: I wasn’t broke:

I paid my cable bills.
I paid my rent.
I paid my medical bills.
I paid my insurance.
I paid my electric bills.
I paid for my bus passes.
I paid my cell phone bills.
Never late.
Always early.

I bought a new phone. Because I wanted to be like the cool kids.
I bought groceries… and wasted more that I should have. My mom would be disappointed.
I bought too many take out dinners. How am I not fat?
I bought new clothes. What? I had nothing to wear!
I bought a ticket to a three-day music festival in summer. I hope I remember most of it!
I bought more wine that I am willing to admit. I swear I’m not an alcoholic.
I bought new books. That I still need to read.
I bought more candles than I need. And didn’t burn down my apartment!
I bought a plan ticket to Boston. Is it April yet?

I researched neighborhoods to move into in March.
I found a new roommate. (And a new apartment!)
I mastered the public transportation system.
I joined a Writer’s Group.
I volunteer at Big Brothers Big Sisters.
I didn’t die crossing busy Chicago streets in rush hour traffic.
I filed my own taxes.
I kept my job.

So. Wait. HOLD THE PHONE!
I AM an adult? When did that happen?

//Frantically tries to unscrew the light bulb.//

I kept twisting and turning that bulb. Just hoping. Praying. (Wait, I don’t pray.) That the light would flicker again. That I would be able to not care about keeping my life in order. Yet, all along, I WAS somehow subconsciously making good decisions.

Look Mom! I’m an adult!