Opening Day!

I want to begin with a very heartfelt.....
GO REDS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Having grown up here, just north of Cincinnati, I don't think spring and summer are complete without Reds baseball. My dad used to take me to games as a kid (a supreme treat). One of my favorite summers was '07. I had an ambition- to get on the RedsCam. I wanted to hold up a sign that said "FELIPE LOPEZ, WILL YOU MARRY ME?" in honor of a very handsome shortstop, but Rick said no. Lol, it's funny because now half the women at the ballpark are in "Mrs. Votto" tee shirts. 
So here's to the Reds kicking some Cardinal ass today!

Six Days More........

My first Italian poem

La Casa della Strega

Mia cara, per favore, stai nella luce.
Non lascio mai la bambina nelli tuoi occhi.
Crescere, com'é una scala a chioccida
condurre ai incubi.

La strega concsca tutto.
Ascoltare.
Posso dire i tuoi sogni....
Ci credo?
Non?
Un domani....

Manic Depression

I've been really manic and nervous all day. I hope I'll be able to sleep tonight. I've taken all of my nighttime medication, and am drinking herbal tea, just trying to relax. I guess if sleep alludes me, I can just entertain myself here at home, and then maybe nap at some point tomorrow. I really hate being on disability. The apt feels like a prison, at times, and I'm in solitary confinement. I don't easily make friends, and the opportunities to meet new people are pretty rare. I feel like I'm wasting my life, but what else could I do? I can't work, I can't afford school.....I feel like I've fallen between the cracks.

Hanni Crab

This little guy got a miracle, yesterday. Carrie unearthed him mid-molt, and he appeared dead. She put him in the water dish, so she could bury him later in the day, and an hour later, looked in on him. He was alive, and had finished his molt! Carrie held him in her hands to warm him, and checked on him this morning. Hannibal Crab is alive and well!

The Madwoman In The Attic

I don't know if I've posted this here before, but it sums up a lot of my feelings about being diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

The Madwoman In The Attic

It's been 16 years since I died.
They buried me here, and here I
remain. The Attic is a lonesome
fate for one so young. For I was
16 when the key turned in the lock.
Funny, they call it an illness-
"mental illness"-
and yet, I am heaped with shame,
not sympathy. I have grown old in
my prison cell, but I am fated to never
grow up. The pills they give are in vain.
The doctors brush off the "side" effects,
but my body is bloated and broken,
a parody of the girl I was,
before.
My caretakers (captors?)
simply expect my  premature death
like one expects rain on an overcast
day. Poor fools. Didn't they read Bronte?
The Madwoman in that Attic
didn't just take their shit.
She burned down the house around her.

VostraLilli

Back again, with a fancy new name: VostraLilli Hadara Strega. Just realized the initials are VHS, lol. Anyway, it's a symbolic way of casting off the past while  hanging on to the core of who I am. Not much has gone on in the months that have passed, really. Pretty quiet. It has been freezing cold and snowing constantly, which is slowly driving me to insanity. I am currently reading "Jews, God, and History," a history of the Jewish people, which is refreshing after a long stretch spent on a bio of Ernst Kaltenbrunner, lol. I hope spring-like weather comes soon to Ohio........