wordsbyt

[wordsbyt]

Someday you’ll look back.

A long time from now, and it will be hard to remember that season.

Because so many other seasons of your life will have happened.

Names and faces will be foggy.

But it did happen. And it helped shape the you that will be you then.

I am glad to be a small part of that you………❤️

[wordsbyt]

I remember love. Sunny days and cool breezes, late nights and later mornings. No one else in the whole damn world. Just us. Me and you. But, where did it go? Nothing changed. We still do the same things. So, where did love go?

Is love a mirage? Do we dream up the whole thing? I think love can be an image we try to grab. The ring on a merry go round that has a huge prize attached. Till one day, you grab the ring, and realize the prize is less than what you expected. And it hurts. It makes the ride seem fake. A waste of time.

I do remember love. I remember everything that went with it, that went into it. Nothing changed, except me and you. Where did love go? Where did love go?

[wordsbyt]

I thought about you. I thought I’d paint you a picture. With words. I’d paint a smile. So bright a room lights up when you walk in. I’d paint your eyes. So green, the grass would be jealous. I’d paint your hair. So soft and full, the clouds would float away because they knew they were only a background. They knew that you brought the thunder. I’d paint your lips. Soft and full, needing to be kissed. Ruby red. God, I love your lips. I’d paint a heart. A heart so big it would fill my canvas. A heart so loving, no colors could compare to it’s true beauty. A heart that beats with a sound. With a song. A heart so full. A heart that will never be broken. Never. A heart that brings me back to life, and puts a beat into my chest. I thought about you. I thought I’d paint you a picture.

[wordsbyt]

Just love.

It’s as simple as that.

After all, what else matters?

When it’s all said,

And done.

What else matters?

Will you remember

A house,

Or a hug?

Money spent,

Or time?

A car,

Or a kiss?

I say just love.

Just love.

What else matters?

[wordsbyt]

I fight the voices. The ones that say I can’t. That I am not. The ones that tell me that I am not enough. They don’t know.

They don’t know that I come from a place where nothing existed. Nothing. A place where I had to take everything I had, and turn it into everything. Nothing into something. And I made it work. I believed.

When you have nothing to fall back on, you can’t fall. Because if you do, when you do, you just keep falling. Nothing to catch you. Nothing to prop you up. Nothing.

I fight the voices that try to remind me who I am. Because they don’t know. They see who I was. When I was nothing in their eyes. When I was weak in their eyes. When I was nothing. Nothing.

But now, I take everything I have and put it in front of them. Not to show that I am something, but that I am strong. That I believe in me. That I am enough. Because I know.

[wordsbyt]

Who would notice, if I was gone? Who would miss what I bring? Would the whisper of the raindrops, say my name? Would the wind howl for me? Or, would my memories fall like an October leaf, dried up and brown? Only to be crushed and forgotten.

[wordsbyt]

How big are God’s ears?

Can God hear me when I whisper?

When I say I love you, to you?

Does God hear that?

Even when I might not be supposed to love.

Love you, that is.

Can God hear me when I talk to myself?

When I think about things, to myself?

When I think about love?

About all the things I have no idea of?

Does God hear truths and lies?

Because I say both.

Because, I am both.

Does God hear me at all?

I hope God can hear me.

I wonder,

How big are God’s ears?

[wordsbyt]

You don’t come back for more, 
if you never liked the taste.
And there’s nothing left to lose, 
if everything’s a waste.
You can’t want it all, 
if you haven’t had any.
You can’t hold on to me and you, 
if I’m one too many.

So drink me up,
Like you’ve never had any.
Then throw me out,
Like I’m still one too many.

[wordsbyt]

This is a painting I did of my dog Bo.

Best dog I ever not only had, but knew.

She was the smartest, bestest, prettiest, and mine (est).

I loved her the mostest.

She may be gone now, but never forgotten.

Oh yeah, her painting won the Peoples Choice.

The Goodest Girl❤️

[wordsbyt]

[wordsbyt]

[wordsbyt]

Could you paint me a Birmingham?

Make it look just the way I planned

A little house on the edge of town

Porch goin' all the way around

Put her there in the front yard swing

Cotton dress, make it early spring

For a while, she'll be mine again

If you could paint me a Birmingham

[wordsbyt]

Father’s Day Thought of the Day

-for REAL Dad’s

-and single mom’s that are Dad’s too

If more guys would realize how fun it is to be a Dad, we wouldn’t have half the problems we face today. It’s easy to be a dad. Mom’s do all the hard work.

We get to have the fun.

We get to teach them to play sports.

We get to show them how to ride a bicycle.

We get to ride them around singing dumb songs very loudly.

We get to be the shoulder they need.

It’s easy.

Because our kids want us. They want their dads in their lives. And a man would have to be a fool not to accept that.

Having a kid does not make you a Dad.

Being a Father, makes you a Dad.

Big difference.

Be the difference.

Happy Fathers Day to every real Dad out there. Believe me, you know who you are. Why? Because YOUR kids know what you are.

I’m not the richest dad.

I’m not the smartest dad.

I’m not the most giving dad.

I’m not the coolest dad.

But, I am my kids dad.

I am that. If and when they ever need me, they know that they have me. Unconditionally. I am their dad. Now and forever.

They are the greatest thing I have ever accomplished in my life. And always will be. I thank God every day for the gift bestowed upon me.

And always will.

[wordsbyt]

[wordsbyt]

[wordsbyt]

The real question should be, is love a figment of our imagination? Put there by a lonely heart. Is it a cure for an emptiness we think we have, or is it a bandage for our soul? Is love even real?

[wordsbyt]

Taking a blank piece of paper, and an idea, then turning it into something that means everything to someone.

That is an art.

That is Art.

#timoconnellsartanddoodles