Tag: journey
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I voted Yes! Why didn’t you?
If you had a freeway billboard, what would it say? I’d definitely advertise in large letters “I voted Yes! Why didn’t you?”, referring to the Australian Indigenous Voice to Parliament referendum held on 14th October 2023. I would use that space to challenge others, those who chose to vote no, those who chose to reinforce…
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Out of the fire
Navigating the world of estranged relationships, okay, attempting to anyway Healthy Boundaries There can often be a harsh, almost discordant contrast between our hopes, dreams, lived experiences and realities. When I say the word family, for some, it conjures up warm fuzzy feelings of ‘acceptance’ ‘unconditional love and respect’ and yet for others it leaves…
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A reprieve from the chaos
Surely these are unprecedented times, with Russia flexing its repulsive monstrous muscle against a courageous Ukraine. Images of innocent people, and buildings bombarded by screeching shells. fill our collective nightmares. The result, complete and utter carnage. The images further exacerbate a collective sense of dread, anguish and foreboding. What could possibly be next? And this…
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My purpose… need to write… but is it really enough? Am I really enough?
I always thought that I needed to write my story. You know the memoir that would set the literary world ablaze, catapulting me into the stratosphere of published authors. Ok, settle down. You can’t blame a girl for dreaming, even if the dreams are grandiose and bordering on the ridiculous. So this girls’ got to…
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And so it is …
I always thought that I needed to write my story. You know the memoir that would set the literary world ablaze, catapulting me into the stratosphere of published authors. Ok, settle down. You can’t blame a girl for dreaming, even if the dreams are grandiose and bordering on the ridiculous. So this girls’ gotta dance…
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Esoteric Musings
Sometimes I feel like I have lived a thousand lives. I am struck by fleeting memories, feelings, or recollections, of distant lands, ancient times, and people I don’t know. These feelings, if I can call them that, barely exist. Their presence is more like the minute traces of a smell of a memory. Yet, their…