-()- Trials by Fire -()-

                               It's funny. How no one ever sees the harder times. When you struggle to pull yourself through. And scrape and scrounge to achieve the seemingly impossible.

           Once more the time has come...
                                The earth has passed around the sun...
           And the paperwork has begun...
                                             the start of my usual summer hell.

While most people are enjoying the summer...
               Hanging out at the pool.
               The beach. Enjoying the waves and the sand.
                Vacations.
                Playgrounds.
                Fair grounds.
                Nature...

                                             I'm slaving over a hot stove... doing dishes for every time I need to eat... and the endless waves of laundry that inhibit your senses some days. I shouldn't complain, I suppose. But if I didn't, I would die screaming!
           I just get tired of spending all my time working on these things...
                       and struggling to find the extra time to get the school work done. Which keeps getting more and more difficult. Especially as I near the finish line...

            But.... then....
                             this is MY HELL. My personal purgatory...
              the specially made madness designed solely for me.
                                     
And in some ways...
               it's well deserved. And could be worse, I have to keep saying to myself.

But it also sometimes... (when my depression and the hormones get the better of me...) leads to . . . .:

                    especially right now... with my main PC acting up... >_<#

         Between that and the school work... the strain of gathering the proper documents and striving to keep my place clean... as well as stay ahead of the depression... sometimes by the end of the week... like at the end of Saturday night... I rather feel like:

                      So... here I go again...

                                                                      ~ CLynn😵

Cut, Peel, and Heal

I don’t need your permission to be sad.

Some days it has to be.

In pain we bring forth life.

In agony,

We feel.

Alone thee,

I will wait for ye.

But solemnly be sealed.

Without the comfort,

Of a warm soul.

The sorrow will devour whole.

So I will wait patiently for one.

Who sees and understands me.

That this must be.

Though not my doing.

That forced into a corner,

Room in.

Due to the world that does surround us.

Forcing us to be.

Making us into something else.

When I just can’t be me.

I’ll wait in the sorrow.

In the darkness of my embittered soul.

tHis towering figure of a man.

Black as night.

And entrenched within.

Like a vampire with no reflection.

His arms surround you within the gloom.

And amid the blackness,

I’ll seize this warmth.

Amid the bright full moon.

And swoon within a mystery.

A beautiful darkness,

Beneath.

 

Feel,

And heal.

And return in strength.

To fight those who would steal.

Our joy.

~   3/8/19

~ CLynn

Just Keep Telling Yourself. . . keep telling yourself... {insert POEM here}

You’ve got to stay focused,

Stay away from the past.

If you stop and stare for too long,

You might stray from the path.

To keep up your head,

There’s a lesson you’ll find.

To work with your hands,

Remain ever divine.

But thoughts that do wander,

Will lead one astray.

Thoughts of what could have,

Thoughts of what came.

But the future is bright now,

If you keep it in mind.

And ahead is the light.

Mustn’t look at the darkness behind.

Keep your head up,

Keep your eyes on the workings.

Don’t see anyone else.

Unless they are a part of the grand scheme.

Climb up the mountain,

But never look down.

Toe to toe,

On the ice.

But leave fear on the ground.

Hover with the wind,

And don’t fear the fall.

Break all the binds,

But don’t stop to ensure that you can.

Grab hold of the night,

Take flight,

Seize the day!

Hammer at something,

Be it mortar or clay…

Put metal to steel,

And the sand to the sheaves.

Thread the needle of doubt,

With the spindles of surety.

Master the plans,

Of a thousand Master’s Plans.

And when you feel tired,

And weary from effort,

You can rest in assurance,

You’ve done all you could labor.

Though,

You may not yet see it.

The end is in sight.

The vision of what you perceive to be right.

A design in production.

A lesson in creation.

A masterpiece,

For every hard-working nation.

Just a piece of the peace,

That will one day control.

Operating to produce,

A new world.

*  -CLynn  *

~ { 1/26/19 }

. . . Scenes from Mod. #18 . . .

... There have been some rough ones... but this one may have taken the win for the absolute WORST module yet...

BEHOLD!

             This is what happens when you push someone waaaaay tooo far... academically:

I was probably a little too harsh on the instructor for this particular course...
         but . . . it seemed like he managed to find a flaw in EVERYTHING I did. No matter how well...

And the struggle was REAL...
                   

 But all joking aside, I do believe this was some of my best work, right ch'ere   😝

N-J😆Y

and... a poem:

                     

Don’t want to take your asses,

Ace assessments,

                Don’t want to join in on your dis,

Gustions.

               

                Where you disgust the world!

                Don’t want to write your essay pay,

Pers.

PAYING all my time,

                To satisfy your thirst for more…

Want to burn these papers,

                To the ground.

Want to throw the book,

                I found.

Want to debunk every piece of research that you find.

                So that they can all see what is true,

Devine.

                Your killing the individual.

The soul.

                But why?

To satisfy your own.

                Your pushing beyond normal limits.

There are no boundaries,

Amid these boundless trees.

                Slaughtered for your cause.

Killed and murdered,

                So that you could mark your x with an F,

In blood red ink.

                How mighty we are.

To think that this is all there is.

                When death would be preferred,

To this.

                I will bury my bones,

Within your integration quizzes.

                And sully my face,

Beneath your useless facts and figures.

                Because at the end of the day,

It’s not WHAT YOU KNOW that defines you…

But who you know,

                And where you want to go.

~ [-  2/14/19  -]

                            Thank GOD this MOD is OVER!       And I can go back to technical system scripting/ethical hacking/cyber security/& computer forensics. -^_^-

~CLynn

When Saying "I'm Ok"... isn't really what you mean...

11 Truths Only People With High-Functioning Depression Will Understand

~{-+-}~. . .Persian Love. . .~{*.*-}~ (-A POEM-)

What is this feeling that he brings to you?

When even you know that it could never be…

You don’t see this kind of love.

You feel it.

Tender hearted,

Souls entwined,

Within a dance for all eternity.

He grips you,

Like you are his last and only hope.

Your spirit sways,

And you can feel the turmoil like a storm within.

      It rages…

 Across the ages.

And the spirit transcends oceans…

Of a far off place…

And another time.

A human spirit,

That was caught amid the sands.

Of a far off world.

   Dance for him.

And he is sure to come.

And with each step,

The heart is won.

                                

At this moment,

You need your hero.

The only dance,

That she knows.

                

A shake of her hips,

The taste of his lips,

The flush of her hair,

with each escaping breath,

                                

The trembling hands.

And it is all but the strength,

With which he carries her away now.

But his heart is what tears,

     And grips at her soul.

Because this one cannot be.

Because this is not.

     But it is what she needs.

And in this moment,

Wrought with tempered steam,

That must be vented,

Lest it consume them both.

      In a rage.

     And yet,

It is the love within us,

  The heart and soul,

That brings these things.

                Not lies.

                Not strength,

                And not the picture that you see.

But the passion held between,

      And the love,

That is as strong as a thousand men.

  That gives you this.

         This Love.

                ~ (2/1/19)    

Not Single, not Double, but... TRIPLE FACEPALM !!!

->  get's assignment to write about a really good ethical leader in business today...

                Wonders if imaginary characters would count. . . ✏

          . . . okay. So I'm more familiar with fictional ones, than real ones... but you have to admit,... they make the BEST ethical leaders. (^_~*)


~CLynn👓