On my own, with all of my falls.

Someday I'll share this place with someone who understands.

Share the feeling of life and freedom.
The crashing of the water that drowns out doubt and erases pain.

The magic pouring over the rocks.
Constant flow of life continuing.
But when I'm here,
the earth waits.

A pause in time.
A chance to stop, look, listen.

Nature at it's finest.

Someday I will meet someone here,
on the other side of chaos.

They will understand that this is my peace.
Home.
And they will consider it the same.

If time shall pass with no visitors in sight,
I will still,
meet myself here.

And I will know I'm exactly where I'm meant to be
with the only person who can understand.

I'll hold my shadows hand as we climb
to (new) stones,
different angles,
new discoveries.

We'll see this place, so familiar,
with new appreciations.

For neither I, nor my shadow,
will look behind waiting
for someone else to catch up.

We will be enough.

No other explanation will be needed.
No words to be spoken.

Just a deep breath of relief.
Peace.
Content.

On my own,
will all of my falls.

~DomAnnick

(written 9/18/13 at Shohola Falls, PA)

Unpredictable Mother Nature

And then there was a rumble and the rain started down. 

No one else saw it coming but her.

It's not even dark out.

The sun hides behind the hazy clouds 

And a single bird still sings it's song.

But the rain continues it's path.

Slow and steady.

She prayed now, more then ever, for a 

ferocious storm.

Let it all out until there's nothing left.

Except the soggy ground to walk barefoot upon.

As the cars pass slapping their tires around,

It lingers on.

Reminding her that prayers are only answered if made with the best intentions.

Or not at all. 

(Who knows?)

You can't always get what you tell yourself you want.

But painfully it goes on once you realize it's what you need.

And then it too fades away, 

moving across the hemisphere.

Say What You Mean; Do What You Feel.

I've been trained to cover my eyes and listen.

My wish has always been for people to stand by their word...but words fall short.

It has become a welcoming life lesson of mine, recently, to instead listen to the 'actions' of others;
to see the honesty and passion in their eyes;  to hear what they are meaning to say through what they do and who they have become;
to feel with their touch and be comforted by their breath.

Not empty promises, future plans, poetic words, or even endless flattery.

The truth shouldn't need to be questioned or tested. You just have to open your eyes and believe what you are feeling no matter what is being said around you.

--written on May 30, 2013.

Losing what you needed to give you what you can have.

I struggled for days to put down some words.

Then, I wrote something brilliant.

After taking a sigh of relief to my writers block it was all deleted. 

No recovery.

Another sigh, 

This time of the mourning kind.

As I gave in and turned to sleep away my defeat I felt satisfied.

Although those words may never be recovered, at least they had a chance to exist together for a brief moment.

They served their purpose.

For a minute there I was "unstuck" and free.

For a minute I forgot how hard it was to do my self-inflicted job.

For a minute I thought it was right and I was going to be okay.

Then nothing.

The blank page staring at me as it did before, yet somehow now it wasn't so frightening.

It had just felt the weight of texts scattered across as the page became alive.

It held hope and promise.

Then the page, it too, suffered loss.

Feeling useless at the moment the page must still exist blank and ready for the writer to be inspired again.

So it waits without any other choice.

And I try again.

I will always try again.

Needed: Life tool box, with ducktape.

Right now, this queen of avoidance would give anything to fix a problem of her heart.

How do I fight for something while I'm still waiting to figure out what it is?

My honesty has failed me so many times in the past but I can't help to just be real. 

I don't know how to hold back. 

A quality of admiration in others is my curse.

Maybe if I am more honest with myself it would break the spell.

But the fantasy clouds I escape to are a part of the spell.

Those clouds, my only comfort.

I know that I should take care of myself first but that's not something I think I'll ever learn how to do.

I'm a creature of habit who has only ever been able to focus my energy on worrying. 

Without my strongest flaw I would be more lost than confused.

Either way, it's hard to find direction without a map or compass.

Allowing Myself a Sighful Smile.

And tonight he said "you're good for me." And I knew he was (the) right. 

But what I want more than anything in the world is for him to know 
he's saving my life.

Every day spent with him
I heal a little more,
I feel a little more,
I believe a little more. 

That's a power I never believed anyone would share with me. 

When I'm not around him I find myself feeling as if this isn't real.

It can't be this easy.

I'm waiting for a ball to drop.
But there is no game. 
This is life and were living it.

It's honest and genuine 
meaningful simplicity. 
Better than any fantasy or fairytale. 

It's my reality.

And it's about damn time I get to be in it.

I May Leave, but I Always Return.

It's so peaceful and calming.
Too few hours ago it was shaking with waves.

An imperfect view,
but I yet sea the light
fading into the distance.

This breeze has become more than a chill.

Screams from my Ohio coat,
too heavy to put on still.

Where to from here?

As the coast begins to close it's eyes,
I ready myself to brace the cold again.

Somewhere I rushed to be my whole life,
I hurry to get home to.

These washed-up shores hold nothing to the
mild pleasures of independence in the Midwest.

I wrap myself in my colors that few understand.
Place my heavy pen back in it's velvet pouch.

Close my journey that's barely used
--stained with waiting and hopefulness of blank pages ahead.

All packed up and ready to return to the future that is all mine.



No, it's not sad.

It is not lonely
(anymore).

Not one person's dream.

Just my simple,
beautiful,
reality.

There are some things you need to know...

...all of which I've already told you. This time I'm gonna let go.

I have to accept my life and where it is or I'll never be happy. This whole searching for where I belong is getting old. I belong where ever the wind takes me. I will always hold my sense of home in my heart so I'll never really be lonely. I know I've said it before but it's time to start doing the things I want to do and stop wondering when my life will start. I am a singer and a writer and that's what I'm gonna do. Maybe not every day of my life but I need to finally embrace it. This is where it truly starts.

No more waiting and wondering. I don't need to search for answers or rely on anyone else to tell me where I need to be. I am what I am, where ever I am. Maybe someday I'll be hit in the face by an opportunity that I really can't pass up but until then I'm going to make my own opportunities. No more excuses, no more fear. This passion inside of me has been clawing its way out for years and I'm not holding back anymore.

A life adjustment will not be easy but my life has not been "easy" for about 11 years. I've fought and dealt with what's hard and unbearable. I can, and have, overcome obstacles that are out of my control so there's no reason why I can't overcome my own self sabotage. Someday we all have to pick ourselves up and realize that there's no one to blame. Life happens every day and although we can't change other people or certain events in our lives, we only control ourselves.


We are none without our flaws.

We each have our own hour glass.
At some point you need to stop being lazy
And realize this life is yours to waste.
A visit into your former life can be comforting
But the fulfillment is only temporary.
No matter where you are,
Your inner demons will follow.
You can never get rid of them.
Befriend them and let them carry you into the future
Don't let them hold you back in the past.

The forest is thicker here--more room for things to hide.
But I will not stay lost.
As long as I'm trying,
I'll survive.

I want to be happy everyday.

Simple words for what seems like an impossible wish.
But still they are words to live by.

How can I let myself be happy?

Is it the right career?
The right home?
The right relationship?
Or the right me?

Maybe a combination of all but most importantly the latter.

I need to be me.

The me that I've always been AND the me that I CAN be.

I've always see it in the bigger picture.
It's the details I have yet to work out.

I no longer feel like it's the decisions I have to make.
I know I have choices and options.
Each scenario can lead to happiness.
While some may lead to a higher level of happiness,
I know that no matter what I can be just simply happy.

So why am I still afraid to make a move?

Truth is that I've been working on my dreams and goals my entire life.

Some years I make more progress than others.
Some years I stay still.
Some years I fall behind.
But I'm still living, still going.

Many options and different paths-- all lead to a "right now."

And right now,
I choose happiness.

Nothing Has Changed, but Everything Is Different.

We made it to the top of the mountain by taking different paths.
Crossing at times, mostly far from sight but never out of mind.
I've stumbled along the way, fallen down and veered off course.
Ran backwards, crawled, got lost and reached out for help.
I've looked around for you as fear choked my voice from carrying over the terrain.
Even if you heard my cries, how could you have found me from 2,162 miles away?

Wasted time in-between growing up and finding our own lives.
The details were blurry and fading as feelings were pushed aside but never erased.
Ironic how we got here, where ever "here" has found us.
But here we are with less distractions and lessons learned.
Still no map to comfort the journey and only a few necessities on hand.

We climbed the mountain on a faded and narrow path.
Slipped a few times and moved out of the way to catch my breath.
Together at the top with no way of knowing what the descend will bring.
But the view from up here is beautiful with possibilities.

(1/23/12 and 2/7/12)

So there was this break up...

Back to a Me, Without a You.

I should have hit you harder.
I should have hit you sooner.
I should have never let you in.

You forced your way through.

Thank you for having the strength to let me go.
My heart would have been stuck on you,
wasting away never to be loved the same.

You had the whole world convinced.

I wish it was my choice, it would have been easier on me.
But now I know it was what I needed,
I was just too afraid to accept the loss.

So thank you for breaking my heart.

I kept blinders on and believed all of your lies,
Made it easy for you
to take advantage of my open heart.

I always try too hard.

You had me fooled before it ever began.
Holding yourself high with pride and values
just a cloak over your selfish juvenile dark soul.

You don't know how to love.

The whole world is not actually a stage.
Someday your make up will rub off
and no one will be around to feed you a line.

You don't know how to live.

I am free now to love again.
Someday I'll find the love
you were never strong enough to have known.

For as much as I ever loved you, I hate you even more.

(from 12/16/11 and 1/16/12)

On the Way to Another List

Someday I'll be ready to let it all out, take it in, let it out.

Pour over the pages of the future with the tears of the past.

See it all for what it was and will never be and let it claim a home on the page and off my heart.

Someday I will move into myself and settle down to a place I can call home again.

My bucket is filling and soon I will have enough water to quench the seeds I have been saving all these years.


To Do List:
Read idiot proof books on gardening
Document everything
Watch carefully
Water often
Keep in the (sun) light.

(6/25/2011)

And so it's here...again...

...this wave of sadness that hits every few months. I wonder what it would be like to have him still around. (To have them both around). I wonder if I would have made the same mistakes. 

Would he be able to give me the answers I can't find in a dictionary, the man who knew something about everything? Would he fix all my broken toys? Mend my broken heart? Would he buy me, and 36 of my closest friends, the latest gadget or gizmo that is sure to be a crazy, sold-out-by-Christmas-but-forgotten-about-by-New-Years? Would he still draw out routes on maps in different color pens? Or would he have mastered using the google maps on the internet? (I'm not sure he ever had the pleasure of sending an e-mail on his own). Or dare I say, a G.P.S? He would have never gotten a G.P.S! 

Could he have ever really watched EVERY World War II documentary, or covered up his tears during a sappy "chick-flick"? When would he have stopped doing all the yard work himself? Would he have ever organized the mail or thrown ANYTHING away? How many Navy stories has he never told me? Do I actually remember any of them? Would we have ever gone on an adventure together? One more than driving across PA through the night and being lost just outside of campus at 4am, looking for the "entrance," having to stop to ask the first person we saw on the streets, who was dressed all in black with shiny metal things sticking out of his face and covered in tattoos. Would he really have disowned me for getting tattoos myself? Would I have gotten so many?

Would I have taken his advice? Could he truly talk to me without yelling and actually listen? Would he even understand me? What else would he have taught me? Would he have shared his love of words with me on the same level? Would I be reading to him now, like he did for me when I sat in the swivel kitchen chair with my feet not able to touch the ground as we took an adventure at sea on the Pequod? Would we whistle in harmony as we built something together? Would he have ever been able to tell one of his jokes without cracking up? Will I ever be able to tell a joke without cracking myself up?

Would I still have become more and more like him every day, the latter him that was all good and perfect? Would I still be me?

I know I have grown, on my own. In between the dry seasons I wilted away to almost nothing. But I have sprung back after the passing rains. But I would not be who I am without him. I am him and he will always be a part of me, but still I am lost at times. 

For as much as I am missing out, I do not need a care taker.

I just need my Daddy. 

(Happy Birthday).

Funny how they still bring me to tears

When I think of my childhood and time with my parents I mostly remember how much I use to cry. I know it would be honorable of me to only remember, or write about, the good times now that they are gone but those are too painful to conjure up and actually find words for. Hopefully, those happier memories will have a more glorified moment other than a blog I'm writing at 2am...

I have always been super emotional and sensitive which is something I was frequently reminded of. But my parents had this uncanny power to bring me to tears. Especially my father, on the first note of his anger my heart would race and the tears started. By the time he stumbled through everyone else's name to mine, in that way parents do when they are so angry they forget your name, I was in full blown hysteria and banished to my room. But I never really escaped. Hiding under the covers didn't mask the sound of disappointment in their voices.

Now, I sit in my room in that familiar soggy way, years later and too many miles away they still bring me to tears. Much like it was when I was younger, I did nothing to deserve this outburst of sadness. It just happens, uninvited and shameless. No one can fix it. My stuffed bunny, who was and still is my best confidant, can help absorb the drops of pain but as much as I'd like to believe, it doesn't hug back.

Hugs were something that was absent from my youth. I'm sure my parents hugged me when I was really little. I can imagine me being upset because I was physically hurt, probably from my brother's shenanigans or my pure klutziness. They'd rush over to me and scoop me up into their arms and hold me until the crying stopped and all was calm. I can't actually remember such an event but I trust that it had to have happened at some point when I was 4 or 5. I wonder when I became too old for that kind of comfort.

Of course, they were not the worlds worst parents and I was not a gold child by any means. But hugging isn't something I can miss from them because I don't remember the feeling. But I would give anything to hear them yell at me again. I wouldn't even care if my Dad called me the wrong name.

Where is the snooze button and I need to buy more ribbon.

(I promised myself I would write before I gave in to my down comforter and sleeping aide. I have to keep working toward this dream of mine while awake in reality.)

At what point do we put down our current life and start to build the future we've always dreamed of?
I feel like if I just get a week off I'd be able to do it. A week off from work, chores, friends, family and all relationships and responsibilities. A week for myself here and now. Not to plan ahead or clean up old messes. A week to just be. As much as I'd like to stop time, I don't know where the giant snooze button is so, how do I work in the "just being" when I have all this doing?

I think I'm trying. I feel like I am some days, but my little triumphs don't seem to add up. I've been waiting too long to be taking baby steps now. I want to leap, but I have weak joints and I'm kind of accident prone. Seriously. Taking risks is something I use to thrive on. I wasted all my courage on dumb, juvenile, choices. Scars are really REALLY hard to get rid of. Actually, I'm pretty sure they are permanent since those scare reducing creams I've wasted money on haven't worked. I'm holding on to the hope that some how, some day, I can figure out how to get rid of them...
or at least maybe I can cover them with a bow for a while.

I can make a bow tomorrow. I make perfect bows. Just need the right ribbon. Which I'm also sure I have somewhere in my attic. I might have to make a trip to the craft store tomorrow. Hope I have a coupon.

So, I blog now...

Well, I'm officially a blogger. This is now a part of my life. Over a decade ago I use to carry my journals around and write constantly. I thought I was brilliant. It was mostly teenage confusion put down on paper. At parties or other social gatherings I'd pull out my books and shove them under anyone's face who wasn't already occupied by another person's face.

Parties with the upperclassman were the best for my informal readings; the older football players seemed deeply moved by my thoughts and queries--or maybe by my tight pants. Three or so hours into the night, somewhere after buzz street beyond hysterical crying fit but well before fighting for the inevitable hurling bathroom run, was my journal. It was always there with or without the booze, or proper spelling and grammar. I'd pass that book around and watched carefully as I connected with people or confused the crap out of them. I had nothing to hide as I'm sure it helped that I didn't use any names and wrote in heavy metaphor.

Here or there I'd notice a smirk or a raised eyebrow, hear a chuckle or even a laugh out loud (ya know that thing people actually did before they "LOL-ed"). The really good nights were when other people put down their drinks and reached for their own pen and paper.

Times certainly have changed. My journals don't get the attention they deserve and I have become disconnected in many ways from my own thoughts. Since long having moved on from the partying scene I'm left with jumping on the bandwagon of this thing called blogging (or logging, not sure if the b is silent ;) ). I hope it helps. And although I will not be able to see the reactions of my readers, at least the spelling has improved thanks to the miracle of spell check. Maybe the grammar will improve in the next 10 years, but for now please excuse and enjoy.