“I repeated the words, cashmere, cashmere.”

woman yoga-boarding

I have a new favorite word;  repeat.  It’s going to make me awesome.  Even though I reside in a nation where the evangelical right is more loyal to 45 than any god, big corporations have more rights than citizens, humans are considered illegal, and mercy is only for the wealthy, I continue to be.  Despite everything, I still experience moments of joy.

Since I have limited control over my life, I’m especially willful over the parts I can control.  I want to be an incredible person in my own eyes.  I notice incredible things about other people all the time.  Like artists who can paint or draw so realistically, I think it’s a photo.  Or musicians who master their tools and create music that moves me.

I want to find the words to express my thoughts and imaginings.  Words that relate to others what I mean more precisely, not almost.  I hate almost.  So I’m going to practice and repeat until I do or die, knowing I’ll improve.  Repeat is my mantra.  Over and over, as many times as necessary to earn what I want.  Thanks to my tendency to hyperfocus, I plan to fail as fast as possible until I succeed.


I love words, but we’re kind of in an abusive relationship presently.  Unfortunately, writing and speaking require playing Hide-n-Seek with my vocabulary.  (It’s like I forgot my scientific calculator on trigonometry test day, and the teacher advises I use scratch paper and hurry up.  True story.  😂)  I usually end up recalling the simplest approximation.  I don’t want to settle anymore with words.

At least I discovered it makes my writing more translator friendly for international readers.  Heh.  (I’m addicted to finding at least one good thing about a shitty situation.)  Repeat has been my friend in life.  If I can fail at it, Repeat will turn it into success, eventually.  I don’t always call on her reliable superpower, though.  Only when I want something badly enough to trade for time.

tape recorder

Pete and Repeat were in a boat.  Pete fell out.  Who was left?


Retro regrets:  When I was 9, I got put on Time Out for 2 hours for parroting that joke absentmindedly for I don’t know how long, (before my mom lost her shit.)  I quietly recited Mary Poppins, including the songs, during my punishment.  😏  I also have Oliver!, Rent, Mamma Mia!, and Grease memorized.  (What’s the deal with exclamation points in musical titles?)  I’ll take, Things Alison Does When She’s Offline for $300, Alex.

I’m off to beat my drums with sticks.  I’m having a blast playing Black Vultures by Halestorm.  (Soon, I plan to do it without having to pause and resync my timing because I got too excited.)  Repeat, make it happen.  💜

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