plastic swords

I'm unsure when it started.

Not certain who encouraged it within me.

I don't know why I crave it.

These Secret Messages.

Some say there is more to life than meets the eyes. I never understood the statement until I opened them.

My eyes.

Not literal. No. A deeper opening.

An opening that looks in the shadows.

Those dark alleyways that lure the mind to run away in nightmarish thoughts.

I began to ask questions.

To seek

answers.

To sit with fear over hot beverages, and interview her.

I scribble the messages in a book.

I paste them between sticky pages full of acrylic smudges and splattered ink. I circle words that call my name.

I scribble.

I cry.

I sing.

I dance.

I have a tribe.

Oh it sounds so primal. I love it. My tribe. People that send me plastic swords, CD's, and inspiring words.

People like YOU.

You, who comment and encourage me with your chosen words.

Words of wisdom

and love.

Do you know how much I appreciate your secret messages? This page is for you. My community. My tribe.