I have to disclose that even though I instigated this blog - I am not the writer of this group। I am the queen of the comma and a breathlessly long sentence, not to mention I spell at about the level of a 7th grader. Thank god for spell check heh... (SOooo like a women to start out with a sort of apology-) Anyhoo - that outta the way I will embrace my Elliot and go balls to the walls here on out.... I do intend to add some journal sketches or art and I encourage all you talented bitches to do the same - That is, put um out there ladies - BALLS to the WAlls - YEEEE haaawwww ....
I pick Eliot as my nom de plume. Simply because it was the name of the first boy who made my heart pound. At eight, I could have never predicted that this heart would enlarge, shrink, skip, stop, implode, explode, and mend it self within the next twenty-five years. This loyal organ of mine has beat consistently while being carried and dragged through what seem like so many different lives. It started in a small wild flax haired girl, and grew within an emotionally retarded and sometimes reckless ski-bum. Some how I became a business women and mother... who in another life lost everything. To which my heart responded in stutters inside a confused recluse, pumping an embarrassing resivor of tears, before I found my self many years and lovers later as a strong independent hopeful social service slave and lazy artist. I wonder what the life and woman this heart will find itself in next...
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