Please welcome David Ellis to #BeReal. Embracing Your Animal Instincts, Choose Love, Not Fear OK, so here it is – the real me. Uncut, cut loose and out on the streets. (Don’t you dare call the police – I’ll be good, I promise!) For all of my sins, I’m a writer. I’m a crazy…
My #BeReal guest today is Dori Owen. On #BeingReal I am a storyteller. This is the way I transform my thoughts into #BeingReal. I came off the assembly line a little bit broken, a little bit funny, and with a love of all things creative. Art and writing are how I express my real. This…
My #BeReal guest today is Courtney Keesee. When I think about what it means to be real, the first thing to come to my mind is not hiding from the world, even though it’s an evil world full of evil people ready to judge you and tear you to shreds. And I don’t mean not…
Please welcome my #BeReal guest Stephanie Ortéz For as long as I can remember I always felt compelled to unleash my talents to the world. My Grandmother nurtured my artistic talents by being both my adviser & biggest fan. She would collect fashion magazines and teach me how to braid my hair. She and I…
My #BeReal guest today is Ra Avis. I love fairy tales and blanket forts. I love daydreams and dandelion wishes. I think if you asked most of my friends and family to describe me, these concept would be tossed around. But they’d also tell you, for all my whimsicality, I am real. My feet are…
My #BeReal guest today is Raymond Baxter. The events in my life that broke me Well. This is my story. A special thanks to the #BeReal series for letting me publish this. I’ll also link to Darla Halyk for giving me the confidence to write this post. For helping me to make the decision to finally admit…
I stood still Invisibly quiet A bystander A witness To an atmosphere Gaining tension Not me, no way It wouldn’t be me Tipping the scale The precarious needle Into the red territory Crimson delicacy Marking danger Overloaded Overheated Over the limit Voices were angry And so very loud Eyes were enraged Focused and wide Yet…
I look out and see a meadow covered in fog. It is as if the whole world is sad and the earth is listening. My brain can relate. Depression feels like that fog. Drifting silent above the world. Alone yet not. An atmosphere confused and heavy. But then the sun comes out and things begin…
The smooth surface feels like glass Pressed hard against my wet cheek Shapes dancing just inside memories Behind curtains of shame and regret I see shifting blurs race to and fro Dripping down the canvas of yesterday Stripes that don’t last, or change Bright spots that linger when you blink Peeling itself off the tapestry, alive…
Endless moments were given birth Rippling reflections of the past Floating effortlessly into my future Often, I sail back to those moments That made it into lasting memory And find those that changed me Those tidal waves of insecurity The typhoons that toppled me Each storm followed by peace Fashioning a strength that comes…
HASTYWORDS 