Last May, I wrote a post about a fellow blogger, Rarasaur. She was about to be put into prison for a crime she didn’t commit, (here’s her story here) and I was moved by the wickedness of a criminal “justice” system that essentially bullied an innocent person.

I saw an update on her today – she’s getting out of prison after 15 months.  15 months.  The Wee One wasn’t even a twinkle in my eye, I was still living in St. Louis, I was still working, but I wasn’t a rennie yet.

I’d thought about her several times over the past few months, and I was glad to learn that she’s getting out (hence this post passing the good news on.)

Stolen Muse

Sometimes I think pregnancy has stolen my muse.  I am 11 weeks in and so very tired that there is little I want to do that requires more than on optic nerve.  Watching Harry Potter or other things on Netflix, keeping up with the news here in #Ferguson.  I have tried painting, tried drawing (get distracted), tried bicycling (bonk in 10 minutes), tried cooking (ugh – really? Eat that?) and, yes, tried writing (such a heavy pen).

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Song Stream-Of-Consciousness

Three songs that are the most important to me

An exercise in the WordPress writing 101 exercises, just type and go for 15 minutes without stopping or editing or fixing or crossing out. So here we go.

It’s hard to pick three. The first one that comes to mind is Silent Lucidity by Queensreich. That was a big deal for me when I was a kid.  When I was in eigth grade. Dad was abusive and school sucked and I was lost.  That song made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so fucked up as I thought, but maybe everything else was fucked up. Maybe I was a normal reaction to a fucked up situation. I thought it was SOO deep, and I loved the voice of the woman plainly asking, “help me.”  Because no one was helping me at the time.

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Don’t be scurred

When I do something scary or stressful, as was asked by today’s Daily Prompt, I like to do it alone.   I love my family and friends, of course, and I like knowing that they’re supporting me, but beyond that, I’d prefer to be alone.

In a tense or stressful moment, I am building up as much strength inside me as I can and I don’t want to be distracted by other people. Like, if I’m upset, I want to be alone to cry ugly without worrying about bring judged (which I would and do – it’s called cry ugly for a reason.)

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