Nearly there

I'm almost ready to publish my first book review!

I'd love for you guys to get involved, give me feedback on what I've written and let me know what you think of the book!

I'm also planning to write a piece on the recent attacks in Paris and the general state of the world, biased Western media and disregard for black and brown lives.

Until then, my thoughts are with victims of terror globally. Peace be with you all.

Kisses,
Antonia

(Image from: http://uthmag.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/o-STACK-OF-BOOKS-facebook.jpg)

Chronic Fatigue is Chronic

Well today was fun.

I had zero energy and dragged myself into work (late of course), then proceeded to interact with customers like I cared and colleagues trying not to bring the mood down. I like where I work, I just hate getting out of bed for it.

My moods go up and down a lot, but when I'm exhausted like I have been lately, it feels impossible to function. Standing up feels like a chore, as does sitting down, as does anything except being horizontal, somewhere soft. Even trying to get to sleep is draining, I'm often in pain and in the silence and darkness that I need to get to sleep, nothing can distract me from the sort of low, menacing throb in my bones.

Still, I can be a little bit proud of myself as I went to the gym after work and walked home. I felt immediately better after my work out, despite being a sweaty mess, and the only downside was that the gym was pretty busy so I didn't feel confident enough doing my stretches down there and went somewhere private. Silly really, but that's what my mind does sometimes.

Right now I'm absolutely exhausted again. The endorphins must have worn off but I guess it doesn't help being in bed. Being tired all the time is such a Catch 22, sometimes it feels like I'll never escape it and nothing will make me feel any better. But I'm hoping this is just a bad patch after overdoing it (how idk, by living maybe) and getting multiple cold/flu things that I can't shake off. Hopefully I can keep sleeping better and my body will find the strength to function properly.

Until then it's resting bitch face, constant yawning and a lot of willpower.

Kisses,
Antonia

Storm

Calamitous whirlwind

Fierce winds attacking all that I love

Blown from a place of entitled resentment

Of fear and obsession

Of unwillingness or inability to adapt.

Catastrophic passage of time

Rapid unchangeable, unchanging

And yet unforeseen sequences

With consequences that rip souls apart

Debris covers all things

Nothing is spared.

The absolute absence of compassion

Superfluity of useless or poisonous words

Of malevolent thoughts

And ultimately nothing of any value remains:

Implosion.

We paint it with gold

With promise, desire and anticipation

Paint is no preservative

To avoid the rotting underneath.

Rot cannot be reversed

Nothing fresh springs forth anew

It can only aid something else, something more deserving

It’s time will come.

(Also published on https://essexwriterscircle.wordpress.com. I am the author of this work.)