If I am paying for this- I should get my moneys worth- right?

I have a great playlist. And of course I am biased, I built the playlist. Catered it to me in a way that I have NEVER spent that much time on myself. Freaking weird. I only started building it a couple of years ago, so it’s pretty new. It has some old stuff on there, but not really old stuff because that stuff doesn’t carry the vibe I want on my list.

My list isn’t about old boyfriends or things of that sort… It’s my “Make Art” playlist. A list of songs that really don’t have strong attachments to other people; songs that make me want to move my body, sing along and get to work with strong attitude.

Some of it has a strong “Fuck it” vibe, other parts are “I saw that coming and now I am dealing with it , with strength”- I don’t know it’s like equal parts, love, loss, renegade bookworm- I like it. I want more of it and I realize as I seem somewhat isolated from people who talk about fringe bands- I guess I need some new humans to help me add to the play list.

I started saying that it was my playlist- but I don’t know if I would have ventured down certain musical paths without some outside influence that now sits as a painful part of my heart. And I have had to somewhat disassociate liking a song or more from the human who first said “listen to this.”

It’s tough- and it shouldn’t be- because the world is saturated with music and yet always thirsty enough to never be flooded.

Heck- I make music- I doubt anyone is putting it on a favorite playlist- but I make music. I don’t care who likes it. I like making it. I could never play anything I recorded twice, because it isn’t the thing with associate with popular music- repetitive. It’s weird to think that someone might listen to something I have created, more than once.

I admit I am probably my own biggest fan. I have to be in order to continue creating. My creations are not about views or likes, or whatever outcome we are told to attach to as the reason to create. I create because I HAVE TO or I WILL GO CRAZY. It is an outlet of expression that gives a modicum of purpose when trying to exist in this very tiresome and convoluted reality.

So to those creators who have made it to a hyper playlist of someone who just needs a little inspiration at times- Thank you. Sometimes just a few notes and beats are what one needs to pick up the brush and paint or stretch the body into dance- or feel motivated to clean the bathroom.

Music is magic, and a potent playlist can change the trajectory of a moment, mood or day. For that I am blessed and grateful for the expanse of options I have and have yet to explore.

October Wrap Up

Holy Freaking Autumn! This was hands down one of the most beautiful and warm Octobers I have ever experienced my many years in Cheyenne (I don’t know what it was like when I wasn’t here for the other years).

As a child it was almost always certain that you would have to wear a winter jacket and snow pants with your costume; unless you went to the mall in a climate control environment. The only people who really saw the full costume were family like Grandma and Grandpa- the obligatory drop by.

October was a good month for me- I was a featured artist at my favorite local pub that accepts dogs. I sold art work. I made some new acquaintances. I cross promoted my work. Yeah- I felt almost normal in the sense of remembering myself. Still there is so much to work on.

Part of my cross promotion tactic was to go to open mic, share my writing/spoken word/ collabs with Alessandro amidst my creations- It was pretty tight.

It is now Thurs Nov. 3- and I went to last nights open mic to perform- the art was different and so was the audience- of course every audience is different but the energy with the art was different. No worries- I went on and did what I arrived to do.

There was a rather loud group of older ladies at the front where I was performing – and I will just say it was a test to stay on track and keep, keeping on. Other things have unfolded as well-

The plan is to re-evaluate. But if you are interested in checking out a synopses of my October Open Mics and picking up dog poop- I will link it here.

All apologies in advance- the pod gets a little too ASMR at times while I am carrying Journey’s shit sack. No worries- tune into the other episodes you like .

I’ve got some ideas cooking that I hope to get into action, so stay tuned!


Dear Lost Loves-

Dear Lost Loves I invested so dearly in- it is time to let you burn in the fire- in order to reignite my own desires – now you are all tethered.

Thank you for the lessons in our youthful indiscretions

Thank you for showing me your shadowy demons

Thank you for allowing us to learn to know and grow away from one another

Thank you for the bruises

It’s my time now- you are purged from me and the reality I have in mind would scare you – and that is why I say good bye.

You will maybe in my reverie but your name needn’t ever be upon my lips- Regardless I wish you the best- but I exist in a new atmosphere.

Things That Make Me Want To Puke

I get it- I’m a B side. Fringe. Cult Classic. It’s cool- that’s all I wanted.

Why do I seek more? Why do I want acknowledgement?

Yo! I see you, being influenced by me- but no recognition given.

Nah, it’s cool- fame isn’t my game- but when I like what you do, I say so-

or hit those sigils of modern acceptance.

Why is it so easy for you in one way, and easier for me in another.

If we consider ourselves creatives why does it feel like we are creating

against each other in some competition looking to extremes?

I don’t want to be some artistic meme

My soul is a collaborator- but I need you to see me to be a participant in that bigger thing we are both actively creating.

All or Nothing

I’m here but I am not. I have so much and nothing. Void of much want or desire- in some existential existence hard to articulate.

If I were to die today, I’d feel that my work here is done. Perhaps some excitement of the unknown would elevate my soul to some higher height.

Knowing in my selfishness that I can not control the pain of others in loss. I have only had the experience of attempting to mitigate my own pain or sorrow while living.

I haven’t been the best at it. Far from perfect, in fact. To this day it is hard for me to emotionally navigate living. I can talk about it, write about it, paint about it, and score a personally chaotic symphony with how my synapses react- it will never be enough.

The expectations of youth- some desire for fame or notoriety. And it fades away as I acknowledge that every artist is simply a voice of Creation begging to be heard and comprehended- embraced. And anyone who doesn’t consider themselves an artist is missing a recognition that we are attached to what we attach to; and so we silently admire art and the artist because they seem closer to the voice of Creation itself. They are more willing to risk themselves by participating in what could be construed as a pointless endeavor.

I’m ready to give it all away. Set all the paint and canvas on the corner with a free sign. Maybe burn it in a massive fire. I am done.

I feel it in every part of my beingness- I am done. I don’t know what I have left to give.

This isn’t a death threat. Though it is acknowledgement that something in me has died. I no longer know who I am because I have become one with the Void. I’ve spun with the spider for a long time. I once built a beautiful bonfire but the light went away and the embers slowly cooled.

I want nothing but the totality of everything to be better in this world and beyond. I want a break from the spiritual battle- the terrestrial plight.

I want to float, free form, unrestrained by the labels and boxes. I want to shrug off this subpar body and exchange it for the unseen consummations of light. I no longer want to fit in, or conform uncomfortably when I know how lovely it is to unfurl, unfold and expand outward… I do not know this by life alone.

Rise above! Rise like smoke. Rise like steam, or mist- lighter than air alone. Rise with the tide, Rise with the Sun, rise with laughter.

When I rise, nothing will be left to pull me down.

I keep Trying

Here is a link to a conversation I had with my friend Jordan. We had high hopes of creating a podcast, and well- life and mental states got in the way.

I am going to post this link because it sort of sits in my bin of failure. But it isn’t a failure- it was a good conversation with great intent. The failure would be to loose it instead of honor it while honoring a person who has really been an interesting supporting sounding board over time.

Yeah- we didn’t follow through- but we learned a lot in the process, and I am still using what I learned through my failure to follow through in a way that I wanted or expected.

We all experience learning curves. Where we end up may not be what we expected. Luckily 😉 I keep my expectations fairly low to avoid too much disappointment- and that is a lens I am working on.

I believe there is enough for everyone, and I have stuff to share. This isn’t just for me- it is for you, I believe in you.


Okay, perhaps I am remiss here, and jumping the gun in some way- because in my world the year starts in September. It’s the month I was born and things seem to get shifty around that time. That being said- it is only the second day of May.

It is nine months and one day since my Gma passed. I think these things get me in some nine month cycle- it is ingrained in my biology as a woman.

I remember going to massage therapy school and having to start the nine month program over a second time because of life issues. It was brutal joining a new class. I didn’t finish the program.

The funny thing was, I was able to see things I didn’t perceive the first time around. I noticed the disorganization of the administration running the institute. I got caught in the cross hairs of this misadministration. I gave up because I realized I was dealing wholly with massive parasitic energy from the top of the structure, down to the apprentice clinic.

Not much has changed with that battle- the thing I would like to draw attention to, is how this would solidify something with nine month cycles and the way I would look at my past failure.

To finish a nine month program- successfully. Through the lens of failure I would look back and say to my self “you could have finished that program four times by now.”

You could be certified.

You could have a career, a job, a productive part in society.

I kept thinking that way until a condom broke in 2007. By then I could have completed 9.333333333333, nine month massage therapy courses.

I didn’t want to get pregnant. It was a foolish one night stand sort of thing. Then nine months became pivotal in another way. I was rushing to escape the deadline again. Not mature enough to find a finish line without compromise.

When I made that termination, something reset at the back of my mind, and that is the twelve month time line.

This year I would have a fourteen year old. I would probably have a bunch of other perceived failures, but every year would bring something new- maybe to look forward to, in hopes of not regressing into that mindset that nothing changes. Or that I myself am a failure.

I chose to walk another path. I don’t see it as good or bad, in my desire to be neutral.

In retrospect I keep making it another nine months. And if I look back far enough I can see those cycles from beginning to end like the ouroboros. My life is different but very much the same these days. I wonder if the conscious movement to not procreate children is a way that the snake can eat itself. To not bring more into the world than it can digest.

But then on the other hand there has been no time like the present of the Andy Warhol catch phrase “Everyone will have their fifteen minutes of fame.” All eyes/I’s are on US- the United System. So many stories to tell, so many faces to see.

So I basically joined Tiktok, then deleted it. Started a “business” with a friend and joined back up.

I disavowed Facebook and all social media with the exception of Twitter where I do not engage with people in my town.

I know this sounds like- “Where are you going with this?”

I think there is a community of emotionally starved people- and it represents something bigger. I do some dumb content on Tiktok because I get just enough positivity from it to keep going back.

I save my deeper thoughts that I feel like sharing for this blog.

I keep the deepest stuff in my physical journals that I populate with ink.

People are embracing their weirdness and I am very supportive of that- but I feel the same way that I did when I was 20 years old living in the Bay Area- “I am just not weird enough.” Which would be summed down to “I’m just not good enough.”

We all have an audience- I know that to be true, but it doesn’t stop my internal conflict of how much is too much to share of myself. It doesn’t stop the comparison or the desire to just give up because it’s easy to get lost in adoration.

Adoration can be a motivator and a motivation killer. When I see something that I resonate with I am caught in a battle of self that says “you can do that” but will it be better or worse? I often times capitalize on my worst physical attributes and yet in writing, face unseen- I go a different direction of honesty.

If you follow my blog and you want some of the weird visual stuff you should find me on TikTok- https://www.tiktok.com/@madgemidgely?

I am reading some of my dog stories on there- talking about other things, dressing up and wearing wigs. It should be a good time and I would like to see you there.


#overshareinyourunderwar #madgebaresall I’ve dreamed of this day for over a decade- a flesh suit, wig and extras. I want to bare my ♥️ and finally-

♬ original sound – Madge Midgely

Thank You & I Love You

I don’t think he knew the totality of the work we were doing by just existing in proximity to one another. I don’t know if he knew that by being close to one another that we were not only telepathically bouncing back and forth- but that the unspoken parts of our connection were creating an amplified resonance. I could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to believe it but he didn’t want to acknowledge it outright as truth.

Have you ever sat in the presence of someone you would never want to upset? Not because you have seen them at their worst but because something about them provokes you to be at your best because the best is what you want to cultivate in them. You want to be a mirror in the best way.

That was this.

Upon parting salutations he said “Thank you” and I said “No, thank YOU.” and he says “I didn’t do anything. You helped me.”

My reply was one so core felt that it was something I would avoid saying except I felt it so deeply that it had to be recognized.

“I say ‘thank you’ because you truly bring out the better parts of my personality, and I miss those parts of myself. “

I expand beyond all my fears of rejection and just say what is true, what is real in these moments. He appears to comprehend while being caught off guard.

I’m sick of hiding my love for people, things and the world in general. Sick of tucking it into notebooks hidden beneath dust.

I’m sick of people looking for a fight and bringing out the part of me that is willing to fight back over nothing- nonsense.

To feel in the comfort of oneself while in the company of another warrior who has no reason to war with their company.

I am a warrior, I am also a willing servant. I am hardened and yet still somewhat soft. I’m beyond first impressions and superficial adaptions in order to please those with no clue or reason.

One must thank those who bring comforting company. One must appreciate that they found a momentary respite.

When I said “Thank you,” it was from the bottom of my heart, from the stretch in my sinew, and from the fibers of my nerves. It was gentle yet heavy- The words were simple and what I could manage but the feeling was vast and if led by my fluency would have taken too much time to express.

Whats Love Got to Do With It?

I think we need to have a talk about Love.

I think we are mature enough to look at it from various perspectives and start to really feel and observe what this concept is beyond the word, itself.

Love, isn’t one thing or one feeling.  It isn’t one singular expression that is universal in output.  In fact it is as ever changing and unique as each human is- and each human changes and develops over time.

But Love is also consistent and steady and holds itself with such secure solidification that one may ask how both could be the same and cohesive at the same time.

Love is more than a word that is used too much and not enough.

Love is a feeling that is intangible but has, at times tangible reward.

Love in it’s most true form can not be corrupt- for its expanse leaves no room for corruption.  It is only those on the surface who use the term with superficial meaning that bastardize the depth of the concept.

No worries though- there is always some hope that True Love can be found or will find you.

The first Love we know is from our parents or primary care givers in our early development.   They set us up with expectations that love may equate ultimate forgiveness and freedom, or that love equates some sort of punishment; then again it may present as non existent as a word- that there is some void of connection to the word that is often connected to a feeling.

Then there are the loves we find beyond those beacons that bring us into the world- those gods that brought us life.  Those on the outskirts that are different but familiar- grandparents, aunts and uncles, cousins. We love them too.  But each is expressing it in a certain and unique way that may or may not be healthy.

And we learn- we are mushy little beings in the beginning- we are absorbing like a sponge.  And Love is a word with a unique feeling that shifts and changes with these beginning relationships.

We get older- hormones come to play.  We see our peers now in a new way as physical and mental development weave with the comprehension of our soul.  Attraction becomes something that steals our attention.  The biology we cannot control brings new focus.  If religion is involved things get even more complicated because something in it fights the reptilian brain.

I could ask anyone and everyone would define “Love” differently- that should give you pause because the word is thrown around like confetti- it is strewn about as decoration. I don’t like that.  I take the word very personally knowing everyone defines it in their own way.

It’s an awkward way to live.

I’ve never been about the superficial meaning.  I’ve never been about throwing the word around like it is candy or a treat to waste away the senses.  I use it, when I mean it, the way I comprehend it.  It is not a designer label, it is not a place holder.

It is a brief moment when I am saying “all is forgiven”- I feel for the best of you in the depth of my core and therefore you have my care.

You won’t find that in the dictionary.  Most people won’t define “Love” in anyway close to that.

There is “conditional love” and “unconditional love.”

I don’t want anything to do with conditional love.  I want to specialize in “Unconditional Love.”

I am familiar with rejection and I don’t want to feel it again, nor do I want anyone else to feel that feeling.  The word “Love” is not the answer or solution because it is so unique.

In the Love Languages I am a service oriented do-er type.  I show love by action.

When I feel love it is hard to deal with the energy that comes with it because I do not use the spell of the word to convey the feeling.  I take the feeling and I do something that shows the care that I have for the one who is getting affection.

I would bleed myself dry for love.  I would work to the bone for love.   I would sacrifice my time for love- but I will only use the word every so often to make a point- and if the focus of my attention was paying attention they could see that.

We don’t live in the ideal world…yet.  It hasn’t worked out so well for me in the way I perceive.  It is easy to feel like it is all daunting- but it isn’t because everything is temporary.  My Love is so big- the word “love” is just not good enough.  It has been co-opted and bastardized by inappropriate boxes and labels.

The movies try and drag you into “romantic” and “unrequited love”, the psychologists try and tell you that even though your parents abused you, they also loved you, and that even though you may hate them, you still love them.

Abusers love to use the word love as a psychological manipulation tool.

People read scripture and bastardize that too and make the examples of unconditional love fit a prerogative.

I don’t like it- I don’t want to do it and when the word comes out of my mouth you better know I mean it wholeheartedly but in a very, very big way.  Nothing about it is superficial.

I know we all deserve love in that way- that we deserve to know what it is and what it feels like, but people are too scattered in their mind mayhem and survival to break it down.

Tonight I break the construct of superficial love and help reintroduce the TRUE REAL EVERLASTING AND UNCONDITIONAL LOVE that is the core of our being- our heartbeat, our bread and water and breath.

No more will these chains of superficial nature keep us bound in ideas of condition love.  No more will the phraseology be used as a psycho/emotional tool.  NO MORE.

Everyday I work for all of us, because I believe and LOVE all of us.  It isn’t work like a normal job- it actually looks like nothing to me if I were to look in on it- it isn’t a perceivable work.  That doesn’t make it un-important- sometimes it confuses me too.  I am human and fallible-  but that it allows me to not care what you think you do or do not see.  It is happening beyond your view.

I DO Love you all.   I DO want the best for you.  I WILL Work for the best case scenario for us all. I DO NOT need the word “Love” to prove my work.  That word never did prove the work.

If you feel profound Love for someone- do the work- see what they need and help them meet their needs.  Show up.  Be there.  Say the word if it gives them comfort, but refrain if you don’t feel the feeling in your core.  Know that not everyone enjoys the word, read the room and figure if it’s been over used and has lost it’s meaning like saying the word “Fork” one hundred times.

We are all at different places on the playground.  Honor that most- it takes no words.

A portal of inner exploration

%d bloggers like this: