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I feel lied to, manipulated, betrayed and heartbroken. My dreams were stolen by cowardice and dishonesty. At least depression leads to creativity.

dedicated to those who've lost loved ones

 

254/365

The winter of 2005-2006 was the darkest of my life. I was 19 years old at the time, withdrawn from college, working my first full-time job in retail, and in an extremely unhealthy relationship. I was isolated from my friends and family. I felt completely alone, unseen, and unloved. I didn’t know how to get myself out of that state of mind or being. On a dark night in January 2006, heartbroken and helpless, I sat on the floor of my bedroom trying to convince myself to commit suicide. I don’t remember the day because a lot of that time is a blur. But I remember that night clearly. I remember the way my body felt. It was hollow, aching, and exhausted. Tears poured from my eyes and onto the carpet. I was telling myself over and over that no one loved me, that I was worthless, and that the world would be better off without me. My saving grace that night was that I didn’t want to really die, but I just didn’t want to live the way I had been. I may have hurt myself deeply that night, but I thank that young version of myself for staying in the fight. It would take another year before I got any relief from my pain, a beautiful 2 year respite, and then the inevitable resurfacing of patterns and habits in 2009 that had gone unhealed.

 

Despite all of that, she is the version of myself I am most grateful for. She decided to stop digging the hole she had been digging her whole life, to say there must be something other then this hole, and she looked up. She saw light. It might have been the tiniest speck of light really far away, but it was better than the endless darkness beneath her feet. She started to climb. She would slip and fall back into the hole, over and over, and she would cry. She would look up and say it’s impossible. But the ever present darkness surrounding her would make her start climbing again anyway, despite the seemingly impossible task ahead. She closed her eyes and asked for help. She didn’t know who she was asking, or if she were praying or begging, but she put her heart out there. And then a root appeared right when she needed it to, offering her a safe place to grab hold of so she wouldn’t fall back to the bottom. She never fell back to the bottom again, but the top was still so far away. The climb was the hardest thing she had ever done, but over time she came upon more roots that would help guide her to the top. The more she climbed, the stronger she became. She began learning to maneuver the vertical climb, adapting her body and mind to the struggle. More roots were presenting themselves the higher she climbed, some were so long she was able to lean on them when she needed to rest. She began to enjoy the struggle. The light continued to grow brighter. The impossible suddenly became possible. She climbed faster, harder, and more determined than ever. Until one day, she reached the top. She closed her eyes and began to cry as the light engulfed her. Now the hole was just a little dark speck on the ground that she had the freedom to walk away from. In order for her to make it to the top, she needed to make the decision to climb. If the roots hadn’t been there for her, she may never have made it. The roots had been there all along, she just needed to reach out for them. Once she began to walk away from the hole, she came upon a mountain. The mountain stands so tall she cannot see the top. She considered all the effort she just put into climbing out of the hole. She knew no one would fault her if she decided she had gone far enough and chose to just stay put. But she had witnessed the impossible become a reality of her own creation. She may have been covered in dirt, but she was stronger than ever. She knew without a shadow of a doubt that her life’s work would be to get as far up that mountain as possible. So she began to climb again.

 

I use this metaphor often to describe the 3 paths every human being always has the option of taking: digging themselves into a hole, staying unmoving where they are, or climbing to new heights. This paints a picture of the last ten years of my life. I was born in a hole my parents had created in their own lives, and all I knew was how to dig. The light was possibility. The roots were the people I have mentioned in this project, along with so many more. I needed help, people offered it, and I accepted it. What I am grateful for most in regards to myself is that I listened to these people. When they extended a hand, I took hold. They could have offered their help, advice, experiences, and friendship and I could have turned it away. I could have ignored what they were offering because I was too stuck in my dark story. I could have continued to believe the life I wanted was impossible. But I didn’t. I needed to find the will to live within myself, but I also needed to find those that could help guide me through unknown territory. I could not have made it to the top without them, and I could not have made it to the top without being me.

 

Now, let me really introduce myself. My name is Nikki Lanoue, and I am the happiest person I know. Every moment of every day I’m alive I design in a way to enhance my existence. I love who I am. I love how I spend my time. I love my body and what it does for me. I love my mind and what it’s capable of. I love my friends, as they are all the most amazing, loving people I’ve ever met. I love my family and accept everyone for exactly as they are. I exchange my time for money in ways that help make people feel better physically, mentally, emotionally, and/or spiritually. I take care of myself by eating well, exercising/moving daily, receiving bodywork, spending time with friends/family, spending time alone, meditating, and holding myself accountable to stay in the light. I travel the world. I’m self-employed. Anything that makes me feel uncomfortable, I lean into it instead of fleeing from it. Anything that challenges me, I embrace as something that will help me grow stronger. I learn from my mistakes, my experiences, other people, and books. I am honest. I have integrity. I am loyal and responsible. Who I am on the inside is exactly who I project to the outside world.

 

Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to every single person who has had a positive impact in my life. I am here because you took the extra step, because you cared. In honor of all that these people have done for me, I will forever share my story and experiences in the hopes that I can have the same impact on someone else the way these people have had such a profound impact on me. I now risk being seen as the person that might be a little over the top, that might share too much, that might go on rants about the amazing aspects of life she has experienced. I will forever share the books I read, or give shout outs to those I love on social media. I will continue to make an effort to touch the hearts of others in a way mine has been touched.

 

I love myself. In the truest, deepest way I’ve ever experienced love. No one on the Earth will ever know me as well as I know myself, or love me as much as I love myself, because I am the only person that is with me every single moment of my existence. This is what I hope to inspire in others. How can anyone learn to speak the language of love if they’ve never heard it spoken before? We need each other to thrive as a tribe, but being the person you want to be and having the life you want can only come from within. When we want to see change in our lives and in the world, we must first change ourselves.

 

I was given the seed of change 10 years ago. I have grown into a brilliant tree that will continue to reach for the light as long as I live. My roots will continue to grow firmly into the ground so that others may have something to grab hold of when they need it. I will continue to drop fruits from my branches in hopes that new seeds of change will grow. My tree stands amongst a forest of other amazing trees. In this forest, all are encouraged to climb.

 

Sandra during her tantrum. (Hey, I know she'll get "furious" with me when she saw this, lol)

"Tell Me You Kings Horses

And All You Kings Men

What's the Use of Fixing What Will Only Break Again"

 

Heartbroken - Meaghan Smith

 

I'm Still Heartbroken!

Experimentation with some broken glass.

Aerial dance performance telling the story of a heartbroken girl who is literally swept off her feet by an intriguing stranger.

 

Outside the National Theatre on the Southbank.

 

Taken at the afternoon and evening performances.

Tonner Scarlett O'Hara in the outfit from the movie where Bonnie dies.

(13:36:53) Just moments after seeing on the teevee that Mittens quit, I walked outside my conference and into a crowd of what appear to be besuited young Republicans -- at the CPAC/YAF conference next door! Too bad these particular junior plutocrats picked a loser.

 

(Doh, of course they already knew. Mittens announced it at the conference.)

 

In any case, I had to flee across the bridge to Adams Morgan for lunch. Good thing I packed an Obama for Senate button.

In this picture Aladdin may be heartbroken, but I was elated that I got to see my favorite Aladdin perform :)

 

Every once in a while I get lucky, and I get to see one of my favorite Aladdins performs. He doesn’t perform near as often as he used to, but every once in a while you might see him performing as Aladdin :)

 

This particular Aladdin was nice enough to stop and talk with me and my dad when we ran into each in Hollywood Pictures Back lot before seeing my 99th showing of Aladdin. I will include a link to the original story below :)

flic.kr/p/9AyXs7

 

Taken in Aladdin a Musical Spectacular on 7/4/2011 during the 2:20 performance.

 

Haiti #Wecare

 

We’re heartbroken with the amount of devastation Mathew has left behind in Haiti and we want to pull all our efforts in to help as much as we can.

Please join us in an very Special Master Class with all the Zumba Star Instructors to help us raise as much funds as possible. All the proceeds will go to:

 

Prodev

www.prodevhaiti.org/

 

Our talented team will come together on Sunday December 4th from 12:00-2:30 PM to deliver an exceptional experience with the single goal to help and give. Be ready to dance for 90min non stop with our all star Team.

Here are some the instructors that will be present:

 

Volha

Angelina

Bryan

Yxia

Rene

Josip

Celeste

Anna

Edmee

Will

Idania- She is flying back from Miami just for you!

 

Photography by Hiroshi Ishikawa

神があなたとともに居ますように…

kami ga anata to tomoni imasu youni

God be with you. 神があなたとともにありますように[おられますように]

 

My heart and my prayers go out for the people of Japan today!!!

In their honor: www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tj1z29uxmhY&feature=related

I have a cousin and his family now living in Japan but his

mom has heard from him and he and his family are all okay.

Also am very thankful to have learned Flickr's

MartianCat & her husband Yoji in Japan are okay.

Forgiveness

Original 18x24 Oil on Panel

Rock-n-Soul Angels

 

The Heartbroken Hippie holds her caged heart admist a Prussian-indigo blue sky.

  

Unforgiveness blocks love and cages the heart. Forgiveness is letting go of everything but love.

 

Love and forgive without condition. Anything else is an illusion against love.To love is empowering oneself and it is why we are here, and there is nothing to be protected from except the blocks created to obstruct love. The Matrix

 

Abbreviated: Corinthians 13: 4-8

 

"Love...does not keep a record of wrongs...Love does not fail."

 

"I really want to tell you, I'm sorry." Chicago (Hard for Me to Say I'm Sorry)

 

"When given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind."

Dr. Wayne Dyer

 

And for all the naysayers out there, "of course, the Angel is a hippie--she wears blue eye shadow and listens to Hendrix for crying out loud!!!"

www.youtube.com/watch?v=wnXQZBaA6GQ

 

Haha! 😛

 

🎨 wendy-wunstell.pixels.com

Every single doll I've customized takes a little piece of my heart with them, but this one is a different kind of special. I had been Facebook friends with Jacqueline Wilton for a few months when I learned about the news her only daughter had suddenly gained her wings too soon, one year ago. I am an empath but this was different, as a mom I was heartbroken, I started following all her posts and I started feeling them deep inside my soul. I wanted to do something, I wanted to make it all better, even though I knew there wasn't anything I could say or do that could help her feel any better. I thought about offering a doll for her, after all, that's all I had to offer besides a few comforting words, I wondered if that could bring a little bit of sunshine during such a dark event, but at the same time, I didn't want to be insensitive, or inopportune. So I just thought about it, for months, without saying anything. Jacquie and I had never really spoken much other than some light interaction on Facebook. One day Jacquie randomly messaged me asking me about my customs. I knew this was a sign. I knew it was meant to be. This was my chance to be a blessing to a fellow mother. And so, after months of waiting and planning it, here she is: a tribute to Jessie.

I can't say working on her was easy, I put too much pressure on myself, I wanted her to be a perfect representation of Jessica. I talked to Jacquie about what she liked, how she wanted me to portray her, and this doll right here, is the end result. All gorgeous eye chips were sent by Jacquie and are by Chantilly Lace Blythe Customs.

I know this doesn't take all your pain away Jacquie but I really do hope she brings you a little message of love. You are in my thoughts and prayers. Xx

She cries and cries.

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This was taken tonight, then i uploaded it for you to see.

I got sunburnt today walking around a street fair & having a pool party.

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P.S.

If you're a BIG fan you can become a fan; here.

If you want to follow me on Twitter because you're a stalker do it; here.

If you want to ask me something do it; here.

Click here to view all my pictures on black.

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Sometimes I wish I were heartless. Sometimes I wish I weren't so tender-hearted and so easily drawn in by love. Sometimes I wish I knew how to speak my mind, say how I really feel, instead of being so afraid of hurting other people.... so ready to be hurt myself instead.

 

Sometimes I think it would just be easier to cut my heart out.

 

Kiss my lips, take the razor, and do it for me?

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February 22, 2011

 

Today my classes were canceled!

It was a pretty good day. I have started to think if I should bring my wall down and open my heart to this person again.. its a hard decision... I don't want to hurt like I did before ever again..

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Uhhhh... I thought the music looked good with the picture.. lol

It's my clarinet music.. JINGLE BELLS!

 

Anyways, I might kidnap my brothers guitar later for some pis (:

 

song of the day. -Please listen, it's a beautiful song... and if this link doesnt work, try this.

 

I have no school the rest of the week because of the HORRIFYING weather conditions.. I'm kinda disappointed because we were gonna get out of schol May 19, but now we're getting out May 27 DD: ... you might think WOW that's early! But the thing is, we started August 13 which is pretty early compared to the other school districts... but oh well :\\

 

Have a great rest of the week!

 

Leah- if you're reading this..... we NEED to get that golfish for our picture we were gonna do like..... a long time ago (:

And we need to go to Hobby Lobby and buy sparkles and stuff for pics lol

A voice that seems to arrive carrying its own weather. Cass Elliot. Mama Cass. Ellen Naomi Cohen, if you want to go back to the beginning, before the California sunshine and the harmonies and all those records that somehow managed to sound both happy and a little heartbroken at the same time.

 

Cass had a voice that could fill a room without asking permission. Warm, enormous, tender, funny. She could make a song sound like something you had known all your life, even if you’d never heard it before. And there’s that wonderful story about how she got those high notes. Cass herself said that an accident in the Virgin Islands left her with a concussion, and when she recovered, she discovered she could sing three notes higher than before. Imagine that. You get hit on the head and come out of it with a higher voice. Life handing you a strange little miracle and saying, here, sing this.

 

Now, the story has since been questioned, and perhaps it wasn’t quite the way Cass told it. But sometimes the stories people tell about themselves become part of the song too. And Cass certainly knew something about songs.

 

She came into the Mamas & the Papas at a time when the world was changing its clothes. Suddenly there were guitars everywhere, people were growing their hair, California was being sold as a state of mind, and four voices could turn a rainy morning into a memory of somewhere you’d never actually been.

And there was Cass, right in the middle of it, singing “California Dreamin’,” singing “Monday, Monday,” and then taking “Dream a Little Dream of Me” and making it sound like midnight had learned how to speak.

That’s the thing about Cass Elliot. You could hear the joke and the sadness at the same time. She had this tremendous personality, but behind the personality was a singer who understood longing. She understood that sometimes the biggest voice in the room belongs to somebody singing about being alone.

 

She had been performing since she was young, chasing the idea that a person could step onto a stage and, for three minutes, become somebody larger than the troubles waiting outside. She worked her way through folk music, through small clubs and struggling groups, through the years when nobody knew her name yet. Then came the Mamas & the Papas, and suddenly there she was, standing beside voices that would become inseparable from the sound of the sixties.

 

But Cass was never just a harmony singer. Listen closely and you can hear the character in everything she does. She had a way of leaning into a lyric, giving it a little smile, then letting the sadness underneath show through. She could be glamorous and ridiculous, vulnerable and enormous, sometimes all within the same verse. And maybe that’s why people remember her. Because she never seemed to fit neatly into the picture.

 

The sixties had plenty of beautiful faces and slender silhouettes and serious young men with guitars, but Cass Elliot came along with a different kind of beauty. She took up space. She laughed loudly. She sang loudly. She lived loudly. And when she opened her mouth, nobody was wondering whether she belonged there anymore. She belonged there because the song needed her.

 

There’s something else about Cass that gets lost when we reduce her to the Mamas & the Papas and the California sound. She was a solo artist too, and a remarkably versatile one. She could sing pop, folk, torch songs, comedy songs, standards. She could take something delicate and make it feel enormous without crushing it. Take my all time favorite Cass track “Baby I’m Yours”. Stretched out to infinitum. Aaa…

 

And then there is “Dream a Little Dream of Me.”

Now, that song had already been around for decades. Other singers had sung it. It wasn't waiting around for Cass Elliot to invent it. But when Cass sang it, something happened. Suddenly the song seemed to belong to the night. You can almost picture the room. The lights are low. Somebody has gone home. Somebody hasn't. There's a glass on the table, a record turning somewhere in the background, and outside the window the whole city is carrying on without you. And Cass sings. Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. That's all she has to do. No fireworks. No tricks. Just that voice.

 

She died at thirty-two, which is much too young for anybody, and certainly too young for a voice that still sounded like it had another hundred stories left in it.

But the voice remained. That's the funny thing about singers. You can lose the person, but you don't necessarily lose the evening they created. The record keeps spinning. The room gets quiet. And there she is again, somewhere between the first note and the last, reminding you that a voice doesn't have to live forever to leave a long shadow.

 

That's what Cass Elliot gave us. Not just a collection of records, not just a chapter in the story of the sixties, not just the woman people called Mama Cass. She gave us a voice that could laugh and ache at the same time. A voice that could sound enormous and lonely. A voice that could make an old song feel like a secret. And somewhere along the way, there was that story about the accident, the concussion, and those extra high notes. Maybe it happened exactly as she said. Maybe it didn't. But I like the story anyway, because it sounds a little like Cass herself: strange, improbable, funny, and somehow touching. Life hits you on the head, and maybe, if you're lucky, you find a new note.

 

Cass Elliot. Mama Cass. A big voice, a strange story, and a little bit of midnight still caught inside the grooves. And if you happen to hear her singing today, wherever you are, let the record spin. And dream a little dream.

 

ink, watercolor on paper

contact ibarraloana@gmail.com

Button we brought home from the sanctuary Marc helped out at, at the same time as Purdy about 4 months ago. We were hoping they would both be company for Sparkles after we lost Poppy ,Sparkles' sister to paralysis. We were heartbroken and thought these two needy girls Button & Purdy could live out their days with us. Buttons story is this.. The sanctuary had had her for a week before we got her, Terry had rescued her from a flat where the old lady she lived with, suffered from dementia & forgot to feed her & another cat. Unfortunately the other cat was dead when Terry rescued Button. She was a bag of bones & could not be vaccinated as she was so underweight. Long story short, we fostered her back to health, she is a beautiful affectionate girl, but as she put on more weight & got stronger, started attacking Sparkles & Purdy almost relentlessly. Sparkles was starting to develop behaviour problems, the house was all doors shut and we were all in a state of unrest & stress. Sparkles would not come down from upstairs, Purdy wouldn't move from the mat by the back door, as she could see when the ambush was coming etc. This was not play fighting. So we had to , after much heartrending , and much liasing with our lovely rehoming/lost cat officer Rosie, give her over to be rehomed by Raystede, a wonderful sanctuary in Sussex.

www.raystede.org/how-to-help/rehome-a-pet/?c=cat#sa

 

www.rosies-register.co.uk/

We were hearbroken & felt we'd failed, but that is ego. We weren't right for Button. She needs a home where she is the only cat, after the trauma she suffered (she had a peculiar way of drinking water, I guess as it was on very short supply) no kids or dogs, and plenty of attention, food & cuddles. We, while we had her got her vaccinated, wormed & chipped, and gave her all the love we could. believe me we tried EVERYTHING to make it a harmonious household, But it wasn't happening. To watch my Sparkles develop into a nervous wreck was not fun. Now , a few weeks later, Sparkles is more back to her old self, & Purdy is more relaxed & spreads out more. They give each other a wide berth but that's fine. We can only look upon the Button episode as our first foster case. But I don't know how anyone does it full time, like Smoggieskittenclub, all power to them, cos we fell very much in love with Button & hope & pray she speedily finds a gorgeous home . Update, I see Button is reserved. This is good news.

This was inspired by my two friends who have been going through bad break ups. :/

 

I hope they feel better soon. <3

Having left Thornfield, a heartbroken Jane finds herself alone, penniless and starving on the moors. Utterly exhausted, she lies down in a final act of surrender to the elements.

 

Watch programmes from BBC Four's Gothic Literature Collection.

 

Image: BBC Copyright, 2006

I woke up and rolled over and you where gone

I started my day again all alone

The last we spoke has been so long ago

I keep wondering if we will ever meet again!!!!

Chihuahua/Pomeranian mix (9/18/2009 - 3/2/2012) Probable cause of death: Great Horned Owl. Heartbroken.

Image generation using "Image FX”

Jan. 16 2012 - I feel completely and utterly heartbroken.

 

Please press "L."

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