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"Growing up in Pictures"

Yes, I have a child. No, I'm not a mom. Birth: Jada Natelynn Wolff There is no pictures. There is only pain and broken promises. An only child living a lie. Age 1: Still Jada Natelynn Wolff Still no pictures. No memories, no smiles. A child being raised by a "mom," But not HER mom. Age 2: Now Jada L. H. A simple portrait picture. A picture-perfect smile, devoid of feeling. Dressed like a doll, she sits alone. Unaware that her real mom cries over a simple picture of her. Age 3: Jada L. H. Blue eyes gaze down at me, She knows more than you think. I stare at the camera, Unaware my child knows I'm her mother. The photo is etched in my mind, making it bleed. Age 4: Jada L. H. So far, has no pictures. I'm still crying for my blue-eyed baby girl. These tears will never dry. There are no memories, just pictures.
My feelings got stomped on. My heart ripped out. I got slapped in the face. No one can see me cry. I'm invisible. I shout for someone, anyone, to listen. I scream at the top of my lungs. No one can hear me. The middle of a crowded room never felt so lonely. Everyone walks past--pointing and laughing, Or not noticing me at all. I don't know what's worse. The odds are mounting against me. The army is gathering their weapons. I wait for the skin-piercing bullets. I welcome the thunderous guns. They never fire--I'm not worth their time. Wanting to give up, Wanting to give in, Not letting myself breathe. Feeling only the sting, Knowing there will never be a scar. I go back to my happy mask. Pretend like nothing is wrong. Pretend I matter in the world. Pretend I don't feel pain, But I do.

Flood Reflections

The sky was overcast and gloomy. A stiff southern wind blew no warmth at the girl. She stood on the levy and watched the brown river swirl around the middles of trees it was drowning. The moist earth stuck to her hiking boots and refused to let go. The chill in the air finally made her move. If the river rose another six feet, she would've been swimming. Further ahead she noticed the literal yellow brick road. In the middle stood two wooden platforms connected by a tall footbridge. Normally this part of the park would be comically dry, and more than 75 feet from the river. Now the river swirled under the bridge. She stepped into the river and onto the first dry wooden platform. It was merely inches above the river. She cautiously crossed the creaking wooden bridge to the second dry platform, which had been built around a tree truck. In the crevice she saw the water seeping up between the wood and the trunk. She gazed in awe at the fact that she was truly IN the Red River of the North, and she hadn't gotten more than an inch of her boots wet. She remembered the summer days staring at the little footbridge in confusion as to why the bridge was in the middle of dry land. She smiled as she realized that now the river literally surrounded her. The tree on the second platform let her lean against it for the time being. Her thoughts of the past were swept away as the logs were in the river. A magical tingle was felt in her hands as she soaked up the scenery. Up on the hill, a park vehicle stopped and turned around. He couldn't see her. She had become invisible. Fearing for her own safety, she walked back across the wobbly footbridge. Once again with feet planted firmly on squishy ground, the sound of rushing water filled her ears. She saw motion to the East. She quietly meandered towards the sound as if entranced. She was at peace. She felt no chill. She didn't realize that the wind had even tugged a section of her red hair out of her braid. She simply moved toward the water. She picked up an oak leaf that was black on one side and natural on the other. She twisted it between her fingers as she walked. Thanking Mother Nature for letting her observe the flood filled her thoughts. She stepped into the river and squatted down to be closer to the icy water. She dipped her fingers in and let the leaf float away, releasing her thanks for everything in her life. As soon as the leaf was out of sight, a gust of wind blew more leaves toward her. Looking into the wind, she smiled, knowing that deep within herself everything was going to be all right. This was why she was drawn here. Her Faith was truly affirmed that day near the water's edge, surrounded by the beauty and destruction of the Flood of 2006. ***PLEASE COMMENT IF YOU READ!!!***

Bytes of Life (Part 1)

BYTES OF LIFE (PART 1) The experienced rider turns her blue-eyed gaze toward the cloudy skies. She contemplates turning back to avoid the imminent rain shower. She can already smell the rain, mixed with the comforting smell of her equine companion. She watches the lazy clouds as her horse takes this opportunity to grab a snack. His thoughts are not on the upcoming rain shower, or even looking forward to the race back to the barn. His sandy mane and tail have gotten wet before. It really isn’t that big of a deal. He is living in the moment, enjoying the trail with his rider. She has the sudden urge to forge ahead, right into the path of the rain. There’s nothing like a midsummer rain to wash away the worry and doubt from her mind. The rain seems to bring reality into focus. Although her dress would get soaked, her new jean jacket would get broken in. Her horse would enjoy the cool rain. She could always turn around if the need arose. However, now was not the time. © Jade 3-4-07

Bytes of Life (Part 2)

BYTES OF LIFE (PART 2) A man fades into the background of the flashbulbs and cameras. He is a hunter and has found his prey. By the end of the night, the Barbie doll would be his and his alone. His grip on her hand is possessive and causing painful bruises. She dislikes being seen as “perfect.” She doesn’t want to be a possession. Her gaze into the camera shoved into her face is numbness. “Not a hair out of place, skin of porcelain,” were his exact words to her backstage. Her green eyes glittered with fury. At least she got to pick out her own clothes. Her red crystalline cress sparkled like embers in a campfire. Unconsciously, the black wrap was her shroud of depression in her Barbie doll world. When she gets enough money, she will end this chapter and start anew. She will eventually live a normal, peaceful life. She will not be seen as a perfect Barbie doll in that life. She will not be a possession. She will not have the stress and flashbulbs. The look of disgust plastered on her pretty plastic face draws cameras like moths to a flame. If she could only be seen as more than a pretty face today! She is human. She has feelings. Today she’s just a possession, a man’s play toy to be envied. Tomorrow may be a new day, but she’s trapped in the Barbie doll world. She doesn’t have the courage or strength to simply break away. While he enjoys the company of envious men, she will be his arm-candy. Never being spoken to, never being acknowledged. She will reside in her glass case until it cracks. Then she will be cast out for a newer, more upgraded collectible. © Jade 3-4-07

Bytes of Life (Part 3)

Bytes of Life (Part 3) BYTES OF LIFE (PART 3) “I want her hair.” The thought passes through her mind like lightning…there for a split-second, then gone. Her flat green eyes never glow with envy or jealousy. She dresses whichever way is most comfortable. Today was a fly-on-the-wall type of day. Her brown Victorian-style dress was neither frilly nor flashy. She watches the people around her as if reading their thoughts. She has no need to dress up anymore. Her one true love was gone. Combing her hair seemed like a waste of time these days. Jewelry was worn on days long past. It was a status symbol. She was married to the man of her dreams. It seemed years ago, even though it was only a few months. Colors look drab, smells go unrecognized, and everything tastes like cardboard. “Would you like another,” asks the bouncer-slash-bartender. His blue eyes glitter in the dim smoky haze. “Yes, please.” She stares blankly at the back of his tight gray shirt. She digs in her purse for a five dollar bill. A worn photograph catches her eye as a tear silently races down her cheek. The people in the photograph cast jovial smiles up at her. She nearly doesn’t recognize her own face with a grin on it. Quickly grasping the five dollar bill, she closes the snap on her purse and wipes the tear away. That was another lifetime. She gently places the five dollar bill on the bar. Her hand still shakes with emotion. “It’s covered, Katie.” The bartender slides the bill back to her. “Are you alright?” “Yes,” she paused for a moment. “I’m fine.” She flashes a fake grin at him and sips the glass bottle. The bartender serves the thirsty masses of people that just walked through the door. They had already had enough liquor for one lifetime, just like she’d had enough love for her own lifetime, and then some. © Jade 3-4-07

Newbie Testing this out

I'm just testing this out. I have used blogs before, and am wondering what is different about this. So far, just the same...do people actually read these things? Are people allowed to comment on them? or just read them? Anyway, I'm gonna try this.
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