heartbroken, are the world and I

10:19pm used to be early for me. Now I feel like I’m a kid up too late with a flashlight and a book under the covers. Except I have the light on and a computer in my lap. The little pleasures in life. Staying up past bedtime. Bedtime.

I have an appointment with a cardiologist tomorrow, and I’m scared. I’m not an old man, for goodness sakes. I’m not even a man, and I’m not old, relative as that may be. I’m too young and too female to have a bad heart.

No one ever accused me of not being sexist nor ageist. I guess it never occurred to anyone that I might be. But that doesn’t matter…does it? Would you stop reading me if I were? If my beliefs didn’t mesh with yours? Are all those ists a form of hate? Awfully strong word there.


Yeah, I know the statistics. Women; silent killer; blaa Blaa BLAA

I’m being negative to force the fear out of me, and I’m rambling to keep my mind unfocused, which hasn’t been difficult lately except for when I entertain the thought of dying, which since yesterday has been all the time. I used which twice in the same sentence just now, one within the other. Did you notice?

I’m trying to get to a point in my writing where I can do or say anything without apology. I want to have the guts to do it, anyway. My favorite writers did it, but they had agendas, messages to convey to all the haters and the imbeciles. To expose the world for what it is. That’s the kind of writer I want to be. Except I would be more exploratory. Everyone would get a fair dose of revelation, I included.


I’m angry, and I want to piss off the world so it can be angry with me. I want to scare the world so it and I can hold hands and tremble together with fear.

I’ve done some dumb things in my life to tempt fate. Just last Sunday I did, and plan to again, but jumping out of that airplane was safer than other things I’ve done. Why do I do those things? It could be the adrenaline, but I think it’s something more. I think it’s going as far and fast as I can and coming out the other end alive. I think it’s finding beauty that fills me with euphoria, a beauty that few people will experience.

Do you look for it? Do you actively seek out the beautiful and the odd and the fascinating? Start now. If you never seek those things, you will miss all the tiny details that expose facets of life you never knew existed. Your eyes will open and colors will seem brighter. You’ll live more fully.


I’m invincible, and I remind myself of this fact every day. I might cry or cower, but as badly as I have wanted to in the past, I won’t stand back and watch myself shrivel up and die. I look for the beautiful things. And believe it or not, those things are not always coated in chocolate. Many of them are, however, and I could probably find a way to coat the rest.

Sometimes they don’t need chocolate, though.

[and the world and I hug in a moment of peace and joy]


Author: uncaged

When Picasso painted a blue Seated Woman in a Chair, he was unconsciously thinking of me.

3 thoughts on “heartbroken, are the world and I”

    1. Thank you, and thank you!!

      I feel a bit better today about the situation, though in the back of my mind my focus is set on of every beat and twinge and the very existence of that little organ keeping me alive.

      I will never take my heart for granted again. Take care of yours.

      Liked by 1 person

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