tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30652473106992952912024-03-13T10:17:37.505-06:00Indigo Wrenindigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.comBlogger55125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-67015085964857276862024-01-06T22:31:00.002-07:002024-01-06T22:31:33.698-07:00On Love When I last checked in, my life was a little different. Just to recap, I did not manage to patch things up with the person I let down, who had previously been referred to as R2 in my Soulmates post. We broke up, and K and I got together. K is also D's girlfriend, so the three of us are a triad together, and this week, K moved in with D and I.R1 (furthermore to be simply referred to indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-47993072678808430022023-11-04T21:00:00.001-06:002023-11-14T01:48:57.302-07:00Feelings & Puzzle Pieces ReduxI feel sad tonight. I’ve let down someone I love, and I’m not sure how I can fix the situation going forward, because it is going to happen again - I sleep a lot on my days off; it’s my time of rest after a long week. Unfortunately this has led to someone important to me feeling neglected.I have hope that we will patch things up in the morning, but for now, I’m having all kinds of feelings -indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-91925301314242130402023-11-03T21:00:00.001-06:002023-11-14T01:46:57.732-07:00Bodily StuffSometimes, when I look in the mirror, I'm shocked at what I see. This body doesn't look like what I feel like inside. On the inside, I feel like a slim person, but I have a bulging belly, thick thighs, wobbly arms. All the things that don't feel like home to me.At my highest, I was over 400 lbs. I was raising two small kids, and it took me 15 minutes to walk the short distance to the corner storeindigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-25562604887259242702023-11-02T21:00:00.001-06:002023-11-05T22:19:51.375-07:00A Collection of SchtuffThis is a mish-mash of old poems, commentary, and other crap thrown in. Love is like Pi: Natural, irrational, and very important.You can't rely on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus. We need to get our imagination in focus in order to fully see everything as it's meant to be seen. Creativity takes courage, and courage isn't always a roar. Sometimes it's a quiet whisper indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-50429233410446842932023-11-01T08:00:00.002-06:002023-11-14T01:53:07.750-07:00Soulmates One day, I'll get around to telling the whole story, but for now, I just want to write about how much I love these people and what they each mean to me.Soulmates, if you will.I firmly believe that there can be more than one soulmate for every person in the world. I met one of mine in April of 2018, and another a month ago today. Those people whose soul whispers to your own and says, "I'm indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-10938442061022765142023-08-14T13:59:00.000-06:002023-08-14T13:59:01.487-06:00Love In All Its Glory On April 27, 2018, I met a man who would become a huge part of my life. On May 22, 2018, we became a couple. On August 4, 2019, he moved in with me. We spent the last 5-ish years building a relationship, nurturing each other, learning the ins and outs of each other, and falling ever deeper in love.But there is some back story.In my marriage, back in 2008, we explored opening it up so that Iindigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-67318134117191992412020-06-17T08:08:00.002-06:002020-06-17T08:08:54.761-06:00A new poemIdentity
like nails in my coffin
this woman
this girl
this lady
when will it stop?
I am not what they think I am
despite this woman’s body
I am not a woman
nor am I a man
I am something transient
in between
neither
yet both
like a shot to the gut
hers
she
her
those aren’t my words
they feel like tacks on my tongue
call me
they
them
theirs
those give me comfort
those feel indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-13624448521438770962019-08-31T15:25:00.001-06:002019-08-31T15:25:42.546-06:00Becoming IndigoTo someone on the outside looking in, it looks like I am just taking steps now towards becoming Indigo. I've been using the name for nearly 3 months, in all aspects of my life, except where my legal name is required. August 29th, I got to hear Indigo in a legal setting for the first time, as I took the first steps towards my legal name change. I'm doing things to alter my appearance, some in indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-20091584449389849542019-07-01T19:08:00.002-06:002019-07-01T19:11:05.149-06:00Chapter 1 Sneak PeekHere's a super special sneak peek at Chapter 1 of my next book, currently titled Unveil: Book Two of the Marshall Law Series, due to be released this fall. I'm editing it as we speak:
In many of the books I’ve read, I’ve seen it said that growing old is mandatory, and growing up is optional. I think I somehow missed that memo.
If I were to look as old as I am chronologically, I’d be nothing indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-4547259511377593352019-05-22T17:39:00.001-06:002019-05-22T17:39:23.534-06:00One year...Five hundred twenty-five thousand six hundred minutes.
365 trips around the sun.
Each of them beginning and ending with words to or from Dawson.
Today marks one year since we officially became a couple, and so much has changed in that year, and yet so much has stayed the same.
One thing that changed was my gender identity. Well, not really. I just woke up to what it really is. Recently, I indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-31080960435653658942019-04-23T12:36:00.001-06:002019-04-23T12:36:36.693-06:00My New RealityFifteen days ago (April 8), things seemed a little off. I was having some trouble with my coordination... getting my left side to cooperate with my right side was a challenge. Thirteen days ago (April 10), my ear felt "full". On the 11th, I felt pain behind my ear, in my jaw. The 12th, I woke up swollen, and my coordination was even worse. I went to the doctor, and he said I had an ear infection.indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-281124036869648682019-03-11T19:34:00.001-06:002019-03-11T19:34:34.883-06:00Gregory Goose and the Long Migration
This is a children's story I originally wrote on in March 2012, when my kids were 8 and 10. I've never shared it with anybody before...I heard a goose flying overhead today, so it seemed fitting to share it here, almost exactly 7 years after I started writing it.
The
days were getting shorter, and the indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-62164656150684621792019-02-17T10:28:00.001-07:002019-02-17T10:28:12.576-07:00The colours have all goneIts hard for anybody who hasn't dealt with it to understand, and it's hard to understand what anybody else deals with even if you have dealt with it.
It being mental illness.
3 days ago, I was manic. I had been manic for 3.5 weeks.
I've been depressed since Friday.
I'm not used to this.
I'm not used to being in one mood for more than a day, for more than a few hours. I am usually rapid indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-88182706726433665442019-02-14T20:51:00.001-07:002019-02-14T20:51:14.129-07:00Our first Valentine's Day
I adore you.
Cuz you don't care where I came from.
Just kiss me, in the dark while my lips are numb.
And I love, every inch of you and then some, and then some, and then some.
(Arkells - And Then Some)
I got to spend a good chunk of today with Dawson on our first Valentine's Day as a couple. It soothes my soul just to be beside him. Nobody has ever made me feel as at ease as he does. indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-55114954934576569872019-01-14T00:00:00.000-07:002019-01-14T00:00:08.738-07:00Monday Minisaga: Part The SecondThe agony was relentless. Everything was. Yet Melissa did not cry out. She would keep this secret in silence.
Her sister could never find out what they had done. This was her atonement. This would ensure that Ashley never found out what she and Caleb did.
indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-84992830665661089142018-12-11T00:37:00.002-07:002018-12-11T00:37:43.621-07:00Monday Minisaga: Part The First
Serendipity.
Melissa never knew if she believed in fate, kismet, all that
bullshit, until she picked up the phone. It was nobody special, just her little
sister.
“Oh, hey Lis. I, huh… I meant to call Caleb’s phone.”
Melissa froze. She pulled the phone away from her face.
It was her brother-in-law’s phone.
Serendipity.
indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-24268146950716862762018-12-08T14:15:00.002-07:002018-12-08T14:15:57.902-07:00Untitled PoemThis mask I present is just that
a mask
It's my real face but
what happens behind it
is the truth
not what you see.
Behind these eyes
I'm crying
but no tears are falling
on my cheeks.
There's a radio playing
in the back of my head
constantly
3 songs on repeat and
a playlist of hundreds of others.
Always music.
No getting away from it.
No escape.
It spins me around
messes with my head
Whose radio indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-74367062427297639882018-11-15T21:54:00.003-07:002018-11-15T21:54:46.199-07:00It's a good day to be meSo, I have a new diagnosis, and one that isn’t entirely surprising to me.
No, we won’t start there.
Fuck this.
Today, I have had my first really real good day in weeks. But, like all days, it’s had its bleak moments. There’s never a day without some shade. But shade isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It just means the light is shining from a different angle. I just need to reframe how I’m looking indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-57754667677444116762018-11-10T20:53:00.001-07:002018-11-10T20:55:21.801-07:00I am actually a rational adultFor those of you who have read my blog in the past few months, you might remember The Notebook Theory. My notebooks of late have been of less than good quality, but every day, I pick up whatever pages I can, I stuff them in the covers of that notebook, and I trudge through until the next day.
Every day, I wake up with a glimmer of hope that today, I will find a beautiful notebook beside me indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-42913175109941044512018-10-15T01:04:00.001-06:002018-10-15T01:04:14.505-06:00Influence and the ConstitutionToday is a very exciting day for me. I took a break from any significant amount of fiction writing the last few months, but I have been doing some editing. I am pleased to announce that book one of a series that already has three books written is available for purchase on Amazon!
Influence is a tale set nearly 300 years from now, in a future I don't think is too far off-base from what we might indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-12259554790379685652018-10-13T00:44:00.001-06:002022-11-19T17:03:12.241-07:00FreakWith an influx of people on social media deciding lately that it's OK to comment negatively on someone's looks, this poem I wrote almost exactly 19 years ago came to mind, particularly the last half dozen or so lines.
Freak
We are the wayward people
the loners
the different
the strange
We roam around in packs or singles
individuals
among clones
Where we're from is seldom answered
Who we indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-7011148971764132822018-10-09T01:38:00.004-06:002018-11-10T19:43:37.823-07:00WORDSI stumbled across a poem I wrote almost 18 years ago, when I was pregnant with my oldest son, and wanted to share it with my readers.
WORDS
I keep strange bedfellows.
Words are my lovers.
Words embrace me,
and yet they push me away.
They are my terror,
and they are my passion.
Weeping, crying,
softly wetting the sheets with
the salt of my soul…
I want to be a vampire…
I want to be a child…
I indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-10532559223078467622018-09-30T23:00:00.002-06:002018-09-30T23:00:39.508-06:00The Universe?
Tell me if I'm losing it
But I think that the universe was written for the two of us
I'm not that young, but I'm new to this
Burying my problems at Vesuvius
Ain’t nothing that could ruin us
In a time where everyone's quitting
Oh they're huddled together, hurting and never committing
We are growing intertwined molecularly
We are trying for forever, no end or beginning
I don't wanna indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-69924175624190642482018-09-27T19:58:00.000-06:002018-09-27T19:58:06.282-06:00The Notebook TheoryThere are a lot of different ways to describe what it's like to live with a chronic illness, and the spoon theory is one that's gone around the internet quite a bit. I find it doesn't quite work for me, however, so I've come up with my own theory.
Being a writer, my first instinct was to refer to notebooks.
So, imagine that each day, you are given a small notebook. It has 24 pages in it. Each indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3065247310699295291.post-86025092049454860962018-09-27T00:56:00.003-06:002018-09-27T00:56:40.662-06:00FEARFEAR.
What is it?
FEAR is the mind’s first effort against risk. It's the subconscious' way of asking the physical self to pause and reevaluate because the first evaluation appears risky. It is filled with frustration, ego, anxiety, resentment, and so much more.
Fear isn't a bad thing in and of itself. The important thing is that we need to remember that it can affect us more than we indigowrenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01707606545644927290noreply@blogger.com0