My anger is real and just.

Federico Bebber

Warning. I’m super grumpy.

I almost dread what’ll come out of my mouth.

Skimming through my newsfeed, I detest the catchy psycho-babble nonsense that’ll cure your [insert any label] in 10 quick easy tips!” All I hear is blah, blah, blah.  Flip [scroll] the page and shake my head.

I assure you it’ll take a lot more than 10 tips to ‘fix’ me. Perhaps I don’t even need fixing. Maybe what I need is to be heard and seen.

Equally annoying are the sexy click and bait posts.

I’m tired of the BS and the steady stream of artificial-flavored-super-happy and perfect people. How is that even possible – every-flippin’-day? (I have a hard enough time getting clothes on.)

My rose-colored glasses have been dipped in real and that’s when I stop for few seconds because this wicked heart-throat-lump forms.

Maybe just maybe I’m ranting and raging because (big sigh), there’s a whole bunch of other feelings surfacing all-at-once.

(I’m whispering now….) It would be easier to be a hermit, if I didn’t love connecting with people soooooo much.

Tears splash with a tiny smile — I am grateful to embrace my imperfections and grumpiness.

My anger is real and just. Hurt happens. Aches are important. Kindness matters. Respect is paramount.

PS: I send you each much love and appreciate those who take a few to read this tiny blog.