Plethora of Everything

I have a bed to lay my head revelation I have a home to call my own revelation I have a man that doesn't roam revelation I have good health, that's better than wealth revelation I have a bird that constantly talks but doesn't know a word revelation I have a cat that a car hasn't made go splat revelation I have a vision, a seed of faith that keeps me safe revelation I have a car that takes me near and far revelation I have a job that sometimes makes me sob revelation I have a family that's always there for me revelation I have stuff to eat, that keeps me on beat revelation I have rhythm for when I get the blues revelation I have 4 dogs; they're softer and sweeter than frogs revelation I have hundreds of simple reasons to say the word revelation and had this revelation without even having to take a vacation. :)

Written 11-10, at night, on paper, with a pen: I miss my old neighborhood. I miss siting outside, taking in the charismatic, ever-fresh air and energy of SoBe. I feel resentful and angry at myself for moving. Why did I 'make myself' move? Why did I force myself away from a place I loved, overall, and knew I loved? Why do I deny myself happiness? Why can't I better embrace my new neighborhood? Why can't I appreciate it more? My inner child is screaming out, rebelling. Does this moving experience remind me of that far-off, seemingly forgotten time... from the formative years, ages 11-13, I live in a neighborhood I absolutely adored.  In the Highlands, Louisville, KY., I could walk or ride my bike everywhere. There were interesting , local shops by the dozen, colorful people, unique restaurants on every block, a nice park 2 blocks from home, pretty, historical architecture and lovely, enormous trees. All my best friends lived within a 2 mile radius, it was g