“Beware of the monster” area.” by Mar G A

 

Read more ““Beware of the monster” area.” by Mar G A”

I’m Mar.
Head of The Bold Mom.
Promoter and compulsive thinker.

“Touch me” by Joseph Vasquez

Let your fingertips strike a fire inside of me

Open the gates and let our passions run free

Let’s fall under the stars in the twilight

And be greeted by the morning light

 

Touch me, and let me know you’re my woman

Give me life, the way only you can

Be my woman, be my prize

Until again, we see the stars rise

 

Touch me, and fill every desire

Touch me, set my soul on fire

Let’s flick the sun and start a galaxy

Rise above this world, just you and me

 

Disclaimer; I’m not a poem writer, after reading, you will most likely agree!

I live in beautiful, sunny Southern California, the longest I’ve gone without a dog is two weeks, and I’m going to write until I can’t anymore.

The Color Of Fog by Jason Ramsey

I love when an author owns the virtue of colliding fierceness and ternderness.

It’s a quick read, just drown and enjoy.

 

[…]“You’re old enough to be my father.”

Edward Cain slugged a whiskey shot and set the glass on a nightstand, and it wobbled like a top before it came to rest. He stared into a mirror from the foot of the bed, tightening his eyes at the sight of an unfathomable fear: age. Edward had been a firefighter for thirty years,[…]

[…]“I’m used to giving orders,” he said, “not taking them.”[…]

Do you want more? I bet you do, I do.

Read the whole story at The Color of The Fog

 

I’m Mar.
Head of The Bold Mom.
Promoter and compulsive thinker.

You know what? Beautiful People.

For you all lost souls, here’s my love for you.

And yes. Out of the way, some of us find the peace and coldness necessary to breathe. There’s no height enough to feel your collapse against the rocks down the cliff. Where your fears remain… tearing up your sanity very often.

And you ache, and you crawl, and you abandon. But there you start hating and painfully breathing, completely choked and ruined. But time smashes implacable, so you find yourself standing again. Perhaps trembling, maybe with huge wounds but, there you go. Like a f*** warrior.

Just going out victoriously from a savage bloody fight, holding tight your flag with broken bones, being invisible to anyone else. Your force, your intensity, the warmth oozing from your scars draws a maroon path everywhere you go… you can feel the grenades blooming at your walk.

Invisible people. Ah… Beautiful People. Feeling fiercely every move, every emotion… every tracing… to the point of boiling veins. Warmly devoted, loyal like an old broken wolf. Bold, perfectionist and crude as a thunderstorm. A f* electric thunderstorm. I warn you, be very aware.

Carrying burdens no one even thinks about imagining how heavy and viscous it can get. Dripping down your shoulders… making your movement almost impossible. Slow…

Burst, pulverized, demolished, forsaken, forgotten. Beautiful People.

Who see beyond masks, marks, sights and prejudices. Looking for silence in their inner forests. Silence… Each of them drowned underneath their deepest neurosis, fixations, which bring redemption and, perhaps, something similar to a safe place.

Not necessary kind, but lonely hawks. Savoring down their throats every piece of sensorial caressing…

Beautiful People. Rejected, judged, laughed at. “You must be just like US. Perfect.” You know what my dear? We are f* perfect. We have scars, wounds, paths on our skins. We have ruin, demolishing mistakes, we have fierceness, old “souled”.

So what?

I love my imperfections, my circular thoughts and my sleepless nights.

My loneliness, my compulsions and introversion.

My dark blues, reds and greens…

My paleness, my cuffs.

And so will you. Face the mirror. Be proud. Adore yourself. No more bull’s eye.

 

And what? Life is violently beautiful. It takes to be different to feel in your spine all ghosts and angels electrifying your thoughts.

Maybe sometimes…. you find a devastated soul just like you… and lights up your darkness. In the pure night.

Ah yes… Violently, absolute, sentenced, implacable. Beautiful People.

I’m Mar.
Head of The Bold Mom.
Promoter and compulsive thinker.

WRITERS WANTED. New section “Compulsion”. Mental Health

Image source: http://favim.com/image/3356146/

Hello everyone!

I’ve been working a lot lately in a second new section I’m very interested in. And as usual, I look for collaborations, I want to know what do you have to say!

I’m building up the section “Compulsion” where we’ll talk about OCD’s, depression, mental health and impulsive, compulsive thinking.

I’m not interested in long medical explanations. I want honest thoughts from that  beautiful minds of yours.

If you want to share in, please contact me to contact@theboldmom.com or leave a reply with your email and I’ll reach out myself.

Thank you so much, I’m really looking forward to hearing from you.

Mar

I’m Mar.
Head of The Bold Mom.
Promoter and compulsive thinker.