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The 1st Post-it note

February 2014……Sometime after the 14th, on a randomly tattered post-it note collection, the faded neon shade turned mustard yellow from 17 months of dashboard sun, magnified in beams and the moisture shown, the dotted moldy corners were delicately folded as if to keep the order of its pages, perhaps…..

So I have I don’t want to freak you out about silly things like feeling and emotions

Most men shy away from conversations of such details, but I am driven to words.

I mean come on… I carry a thesaurus with me. Searching for the perfect word.

I am a woman, unlike any other woman you will ever encounter.

I am simple, not into extravagant realities. but a person seeking shared collaboration. I only want to write in the way in which I am heard and understood.

Or at least finish truly what I was thinking…I resist nothing with you and my words are probably never dissected.

I am sorry if my style is bizarre…. but the way you make me feel, has a me re- visited a surge of  energy, so overwhelming, the magnetic connection gave me a new sense of inspiration.

A new chapter in my wethered story, each tragic page turns with time, in search of the words to write my dream, the new one, I Create.

I wanted you so bad, right now……. but I won’t wake you as you rest.

My brain censored the light peeking in your window, the tiny dim halos hung in the morning sky.  The lingering the taste of Insomnia or is the curse of worry-isms. Linguistically, my mind’s complications do not define me as a person.

I have lost my happy hope, I gave all loving possibilities of comfort up…. no chance finding anyone with an open mind like you.

It Seemed impossible. The words are. “ You are my Brand Crazy”…. “My Secret Type of Weird” Changing people?…. well you can’t really change much, but learning how to mold others to have an open mind takes a particular training of the mind.

That’s why this attraction between us is so strong. I crave your ways and envy your sense of something bigger than life. The dream, the one I have not written?

I want to lay next to you, I want to just focus on you, honor you, touch you.

What do you really want or have sketched into your Manifest Destiny.

You are brilliant……Should I invest in you? and will you drive next to me?

I hate that my overactive brain won’t break at curving bends inside my head. The words they race as if to gain some sort of meaning.

Next to you, I only want  to doodle dreams of what is possible…a doodle day dreamer, a planned worry risk-taker….a Quiet Night Writer and Feminist Ball Breaker.

So now the question still remains……are you looking for a driver or passenger???????

What makes me complete is my children’s success and longevity….

I am NOT impressed with men of fanboying behaviors with materialistic addiction to stuff and things, like fancy watches and objects that ding.

I gravitate towards men of genuine character…….I chase not what most women desire.

I want nothing but time and words.

The stronger we are as people the more valuable our time invested on each other is I am rambling

About K. Ryan

My name is Krysta Ryan and I am a student at Ashford University seeking a bachelor's degree in Journalism and a bachelor's degree Mass Communication. I am from Cincinnati Ohio in which my professional experiences include Executive Management within the nonprofit sector and worked as a Social Media Manager which allowed me to gain a working knowledge of writing for newer digital platforms.


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Author Qualifications

  • Bachelor’s in Journalism
  • Bachelor’s Mass Communication
  • Minor in Writing
  • Specialization
    • Environmental Science
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