My last words.

I miss writing. I miss this blog. And, you. I find myself somewhat breathless as I return to these old streams, layers of emotions and memories that are no longer the make up of my day.

This blog, unintentionally, documents the life I lived in Puerto Rico. When I first started writing, I longed for continuity in a life that straddled two places, two beings, and two parts that seemingly did not make one, specifically me, whole.  I wrote with the hope that writing and being connected to my introspection would transcend the life that no one but I knew. In that journey, I found you. I found a voice. I found inspiration. It ended with my leaving, and perfectly chronicles the two years that seem like such distant memories.

And as life often does, it has returned my thoughts to writing. Through a series of unlinked comments, praise for my distant writings, the noted talent I am unsure I have, a request for me to document my “unreal” life, and my own business where it seems necessary to be a “brand.”

So, I have spent the last week thinking. What do I write? Do I have anything worthwhile to say? It would be wonderful if I could write, be genuine and also have it benefit my company, my business, my brand. But, the truth is I am no expert. I am young and have an innate talent, business-sense. I am building a company. And it is tough, but it is my inspiration. I could chronicle my life, but it would be no promotion to do so honestly. And with whom could I share? My story is a girl who is atypical in love, a woman who breaks hearts, an entrepreneur who wants to grow an empire, a person who loves working out, challenge, thrill, and most of all, introspection, for it has been the best education. Dear reader, what do I do from here?



4 thoughts on “My last words.

  1. thank you cordy. I have found this past month so excruciating, so tough. I question whether it’s winter, New York, work, or love. But I realize I don’t feel like myself so I’ve come here . . and will write . . . Thank you. You have no idea how meaningful the encouragement is . . x

  2. Seems we are kindreds….I’ll venture a guess that it’s something to do with Mercury or Venus or Mars in retrograde (whichever of those retrogrades messes everything up) because sitting at the Bistro table this morning, lapping up my favorite hot tea and ruminating on the uneasy feeling growing in my tummy, I said out loud to my cat, “Something is wrong.” It’s the month of March– I believe, that folks say comes in like a lion. Meaning the disposition of the weather, of course. Well, it’s March and though the sun is out, the sky is crisp and spring is around the corner– be it a lion or some other cranky beast – something is certainly roaring and something large and in charge is afoot at the Circle K.

    My cat, Wink didn’t answer, which is pretty normal for her. She’s not very talkative in the mornings. So I continued with the tea and some cataloging, sorting out the pieces of my life into mental piles of Messed Up and Not Messed Up. House? Not messed up. Mother/Daughter relationship? Not exactly messed up so much as painfully sad and non-existent. Work? Eh, maybe messed up, but that wasn’t it. Blast!

    Lather, rinse, repeat. I went through it all again and still I didn’t locate that thing plaguing my stomach.

    It started last month. But last night I was riding my stationary bike, peddling to nowhere and suddenly, like a switch was flipped, I just knew something was amiss. I dialed my friend and asked if he noticed anything askew in the Force. Nothing out of the ordinary, no.

    If I wasn’t always right about these things (Impending Doom and I are tight), I’d push the feeling aside and go all in on the Mardi Gras festivities. I’m pretty sure there are some local pubs that could help, you know, boost morale and enhance my mood. Sure beats trust falls.

    That was a terribly long-winded way of saying, “I get it”. You’re not alone. Know that.


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