Brandy Danielle Nicholson

I'm trying stuff out. Cars, jobs, drugs of choice, People and feelings of a different voice. Where do I fit in? I'm trying stuff out. Writing, reading, and art, Studying universality and the stars. What do I really want? I'm trying stuff out. Boys and girls, Lovers and friends. How do I belong? I'm trying stuff out. Sleeping all day, eating and not, Waking up early, getting lost in my thoughts. How shall I arise? ---------- I'm learning how to fly. Spreading my wings, knowing my vulnerability, Gaining courage to jump, while learning of humility. Soon, I will soar. I'm learning how to fly. Experimenting with freedom, one step at a time, Figuring out the truth, comparing days gone by. I'll never know it all. I'm learning how to fly. Figuring out myself, learning how to react, Securing my insecurities, gaining character with tact. Learning who I am. I'm learning how to fly. Meeting an occupation generation, ...

Everybody's clothed Everybody's naked Everyone's a paradox It's obvious and blatant All of these analogies Of you Of me Of everyone That is to be They're all metaphors Of what I really think Of me I'm coming to terms With what this is With what I am Who is this This is you Everything I see This and that Of all that's bee-n It's all my consciousness Of reality Can I bring this out To the front of my mind And translate my thoughts In to real time More than anything I'm struggling For this and that Revealing me My head is hurting My soul is yearning To emerge from the depths Where I've buried myself It's cold underneath Where I've placed myself to be My soul is braced Awaiting a further path through eternity A slow path to release My thoughts that form me For sure we call this life A path to learning me Ahh but life is not about A mountain or birds or bees But very much more than these Life is u...

Past the event horizon Of sexual healing For I know that the feeling Will never leave Sex is a healer Like writing heals the soul It is a mask It is a drug It is an impulse of desire Of human nature Like a mask to cover the face Like a drug to release the brain Like an impulse as necessary as that to eat A Sex A Fuck Exemplifies all of these things As well as A connection of souls Enhanced by love To render one whole But to write Ahh to write... It is a freer of masks A cleansing of self to Reveal the soul Naked It is the ultimate drug To touch grab and Throw up the soul The ultimate sex of self It is an impulse of Freedom A release of truth Like an impulse of that to think The being of life The soul of souls Bleeding one's Aura Through the ink of pen There is no color But all of them There is no piecing But of self To write is to know I live To know I feel To know of life To know of nothing To write is to know myself To write is to s...

All I can see is the sand caving in above me. Sinking. The sand makes room for me. I fit in here. It flows from my mouth to my lungs as in an hour glass. I'm sinking faster. I'm not sure where I'm going. The harder I fight the faster I sink. I'm still. I'm still sinking. I'm numb. It's here. I am. Lost.

She couldn't help but dwell upon the fear she felt from the words “I’m ready”. She didn’t know if he was ready or not, and that’s what scared her the most. Those two words “I’m ready” were silent, unlike her father’s infamous random aisle Wal Mart farts when she was an adolescent, but just as deadly and embarrassing. Ahh, how wonderful would it be to be young and free again with the wisdom of a “grown up”, she thought. In her early twenties, she was coming to learn that this very thought was a sure sign of fleeing the freedom of youth, never to return, the event horizon of becoming an adult. As fearful as she had been of this in the past, it was no longer of concern. The fear had fled with her adolescence. Her mind was in constant battle, fear being one of the main topics for which the war was fought. It seemed as if the paradox of her mind had completely consumed her, it was forming a construction of destruction which was forming the foundation of her life. She was fearless but ...

She awoke in a splendid dreary haze her mind fading from an erratic dreamy sleep. She kept convincing herself that the day before was good and this day would be better. She was an expert at convincing herself of false pretenses. As she trudged her way through the cold and dark house from her cozy bed, with each step she reminded herself of something she was grateful for. Step one, I'm grateful for my breath, Step two, my sight, Step three, my taste. She paused and thought, actually I probably would have been better off without that monstrous slice of pecan pie before bed, damn taste buds. She shook her head and erased the thought as quickly as it had entered her mind. Step, whatever step I'm on, I'm grateful for...do I really have to list all of my senses, she thought. Well, I'm just grateful for them all, yea, there. She was freezing, in her prided goodwill night gown. Her roommate, Jack, was such a cheap bastard when it came to the heat in the winter, but observing hi...

http://zenhabits.net/no-goal/  (quotes are from this blog) "The Best Goal Is No Goal" "In the past, I’d set a goal or three for the year, and then sub-goals for each month. Then I’d figure out what action steps to take each week and each day, and try to focus my day on those steps. Unfortunately, it never, ever works out this neatly. You all know this. You know you need to work on an action step, and you try to keep the end goal in mind to motivate yourself. But this action step might be something you dread, and so you procrastinate. You do other work, or you check email or Facebook, or you goof off." Oh how funny. That sounds just like me. In fact, that sounds exactly like what I'm doing right this moment. Oh...wait. "You find something you’re passionate about, and do it. Just because you don’t have goals doesn’t mean you do nothing — you can create, you can produce, you can follow your passion. And in practice, this is a wonderful thing: you w...