Stream of Consciousness

eating healthy is hard

eating healthy is hard.

like, really freaking hard.

i don’t think it would be as hard if i didn’t have a digestive disease that allows me to eat: meat, fish, eggs, grapes, strawberries, and water without issue. AND NOTHING ELSE.

but i digress.

eating healthy is hard.

when you don’t have a lot of money. when there’s chocolate cake. and cookies. and chocolate bars. and emotions.

yeah, emotions.

emotions make eating healthy hard.


so i have a choice. wait for my fam to get out of the kitchen in a while so i can cook eggs. OR eat this chocolate cake.

i mean, i ate healthy for breakfast and lunch…

*daphne sets her laptop down to pick up her chocolate cake and take another bite*

whatever will i do?




is it just me or does it get harder to make healthy food choices as the day goes?

i mean i start out 100% full tilt crazy healthy person eater with pep and goals and food morals and drive

six’o’clock comes around and i turn into a cave dwelling, cake stuffing, cookie sniffing, m&m junkie

Shadow Poetry

Like Clockwork

I wish I could

Reach into your chest

Hold your heart

And breathe life

Into your skin


If only my tongue

Told stories with

Answers instead of



Maybe if I used the

Whispers hiding inside…


But they don’t want

To show themselves

Outside my skin.


I keep forgetting…


But I cannot



Sometimes I wish

So deeply that I forget

It’s a wish


And then I forget

It’s there at all



By Daphne Shadows

Stream of Consciousness

Grieving the Illusion

I bought myself new slippers. I feel really good about this.

My old ones were so worn in that I could feel the ridges on my feet and they hurt every time I wore them.

I kept wearing them anyway.

Sometimes I forget.

It’s okay to spend a little money on something that isn’t a dire-I-will-die-if-I-don’t-buy-this sort of thing.

Sometimes I forget to stop being afraid.


It’s the little things. Isn’t it?

That remind us that we’re human.

And we are.


We mess up.

We circle the same thing that we know is hurting us, trying to believe it isn’t what it is.

We’re already grieving its death anyway. We just don’t want to let go.

We hold tight, even as it cuts into our fingers and saps the energy we need to survive.

We’re not really grieving what we think we are.

We’re grieving the illusion.

What we wish it had been.

What we always wished it had been.

Isn’t that what we find with every unhealthy thing we must let go of?


I bought myself new slippers and I feel really good about it.



Stream of Consciousness

Selling My Soul

I think becoming fake is too easy.
It’s falling down a hill, rolling off the side of a cliff. You build speed and keep going and going and going until *WHAM* you realize you just hit a solid rock floor and split into a zillion pieces of glass.
Or plastic. Whichever.
I think of fake and I think of plastic.
Dangle a bit of money in front of a person and we have a tendency to run head first in whichever direction it’s floating down, without realizing we let our brains bounce into the redzone. Autopilot.
We stop thinking, just start doing.
Granted, there should always be a bit of doing and not thinking in life – but that’s a very different sort of reasoning. Whole other bucket of worms.
We have a tendency to sell out.
To sell our souls.

Without giving it a single thought. Without stopping to analyze our own behaviors. We see a desired result and leap into action, without realizing that we can get that same desired result with our heads and hearts still intact.
It’s just easier if we shut them off, I suppose. Quicker to get what we want.
We shut off so easily.
And the evil cloud of bad mojo zinging through the universe (or whatever you believe) doesn’t even have to do much. We do.
We give in.

We run when we should first examine the path we’re on. If we did, we’d see the huge cliff we’re about to run off instead of the pots of gold leading up to it.
I don’t get it. It’s been on my mind lately. But I just can’t peg the piece of the puzzle I’m not seeing yet. Awareness happens in stages. Very slow stages.

(We’re also redundant and have to learn things over and over before they stick. But that’s a whole different story. I think. Everything is connected at some point, right?)

What is this mind numbing? This sudden anesthetic we give ourselves or allow to kick in when we’re not watching ourselves?
I think we aren’t aware of much. How often do we ask ourselves what we really value? What we want? How often do we examine our lives and ask ourselves if we like what we see, what we feel? How often do we look for our own soul and get in touch with who we really are? Do we notice when we begin to lose ourselves, even if whatever it is we’re doing started out right? Do we take into account that people change and that includes us and what we want/value/expect/desire/plan on achieving?
Or do most of us turn into a mindless zombie (and not the cool kind)? Seeing a desired outcome and stomping through life in a blind haze to get to it, when we could instead be genuinely living and still acquiring it? Can we tell when we’ve lost ourselves – before it’s too late?

I believe we can.
It’s all about choices. Awareness. Whether or not we’re ready to live genuinely and take scary risks, or remain safe and blind.
(but come on, who is really safe if they’re blind?)
I won’t be selling my soul any time soon. But the scary part – the really scary part is: taking a look at my life, becoming aware of things, realize how much I’ve been in the dark because of the abuse I’ve lived with. And then wondering, just wondering, as that sinks in, it sinks in that denial has ruled my life… will I notice if I sell my soul? Or can I pay attention to the person living inside my skin well enough to first learn who I am. And then watch myself well enough to stop myself from going numb – the numb that eats away at your heart and mind – and tumbling down the rabbit hole of doom?