One day


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I had a moment in time today where I let “It” take me over and take me under.
I thought about suicide again.
I thought about my life disappearing

Today marks day zero for depression and what follows. Tomorrow will be day one all over again.

Today I felt empty, a giant hole that I could sink into. It felt so horribly comfortable and familiar. Today felt like an old memory I tried on for size, and it fit.

I let years of my life, trying to ignore my depression consume my thoughts today. I even thought about seeing someone, for a split second.

I thought about dying today. Emotionally, mentally, physically. Numbness washed over me and in its place was adrenaline. My feelings felt boring, pain and a heavy heart beat felt more enticing.

Today I battled my own self from breaking my heart. I fought against my natural instinct to run from any kind of love. Today I felt like it wasn’t all worth it.

In today I found the pieces of me. The pieces I will find a home for, so that tomorrow my pain will feel lightened and my heart will be warmed. I will pick up my pieces and make them strong again.

Today I felt my depression, and I became stronger.




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This post comes at a time when I’m about to pull my hair out from sheer stupidity amongst females. Now, not saying all females are stupid, as I’m one of them. However, what in God’s name are you ladies thinking sometimes?
Allow myself to step on some toes here, I’m not calling out the entire gender to speak against us, but I’m calling out the decisions, mistakes, and irresponsible acts I keep catching women make.

Ladies, we are not all born equal but we are all born with a mind of our own. To each unique woman, we are the only ones in control of ourselves and who we choose to open our minds and hearts to. Choosing (as in making a choice with that mind of yours) to open yourselves up to those who are undeserving needs to be recognized immediately. I’ve been there, yes, I’ve been to the land of bad boys, assholes, and tortured artists/musicians that are just “really focused on the art right now.” While casually sleeping around and telling every other girl that. TOTALLY BEEN THERE.

I used to be so fierce on the idea of marriage I had no desire to ever be a part of it. I had all these ideals of what a real relationship was, but I never actually had seen one in work myself. That was until I found myself in what appears to be a very well functioning relationship, so coming from the bad there was good. I am not a relationship expert, I don’t claim to be, yet I find myself shelling out advice lately left and right. It should be noted, that depending on what stage of life you’re in, this advice may not be the most helpful, but let’s consider this advice for the girl or woman who is unsure of her own standing with a male counterpart. Regardless of the relationship stage, understand these few key points I’m about to make.

No guy, no matter the exception, has ever finished reading your text or listened to you speak and truly digested every syllable. They don’t. We do. Just because he mentioned last week that he likes blue on you, does not mean that the following week you’re getting showered with compliments because of that blue sweater. It also applies to more serious subjects. If your casual hook up tells you after a night of fun between the sheets that he’ll “never ignore you” because “he really cares about you as a person” and then stops all contact the following morning, DON’T MULL OVER THESE WORDS. It has come more apparent than ever that women cannot help but pick apart each letter and ask themselves if he “really meant it” if it was “real”. If you have to question the depth in which your relationship lies, because he hasn’t spoken to you in two days, I can guarantee he isn’t thinking about the same damn thing. Not to mention, if you have to seriously question if it was “real”, let me answer that, it wasn’t. Wracking your brain over sentences does nothing but add to the crazy, and hush over-eager feminists, we’re all a little crazy.

Okay, so this may seem a bit redundant on the wording but it’s fact. Enough with the jealousy and skepticism ladies. If your man has not given you a reason to distrust him, stop going through his phone and trying to figure out his email password. Don’t question the girls he has as friends on Facebook or how close he is with the girl from work. Creating, more or less fantasizing, that you’re on an episode of Cheaters is insanity. If this guy is quick on the response, answers phone calls, doesn’t blow you off, invites you to family events, nights out with friends, and let’s you in, it is likely he IS NOT cheating on you. Normal people don’t feel the need to hide their lives with the ones they are actively choosing to share said life with. On the flip side: If he’s dodging all of your calls, not answering texts, blows you off, works abnormal hours to what you’re used to, does not introduce you to family, friends, and your relationship only exists in the parameters of your bedroom, yes he’s probably seeing other people. For one simple fact, if he wants to be with you, then he’ll make time for you. This also goes both ways, don’t play games when it comes to plans or communication. Game playing only goes so far when you’re seeking a relationship, be open but not an open book, and welcome spontaneity. I’M NOT SAYING BE THE MIDNIGHT BOOTY CALL, THAT’S NOT SPONTANEOUS NOR IS IT A RELATIONSHIP. HE IS NOT LEAVING HER JUST BECAUSE YOU GO OVER THERE AT 1 A.M. WHEN HIS GIRLFRIEND IS OUT OF TOWN. BY THE WAY, HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND!!!

This is going to act like a beating you over the head with a mallet, figuratively, to get you to stop acting like a looney tune. Reverse these roles, imagine a guy is stalking your house at night. He won’t stop calling and sends you messages on all forms of media every day asking the same tired questions, “Are we really over?” “Why can’t you just talk to me?”. Sounds like grounds for a very well placed restraining order doesn’t it? In what way does it make it better if you do the very same thing in return? At what point does the madness of wanting “to talk” evolve into a game of hunting down the conversation? Repeat texting that look like a conversation you just had with yourself for the last week, stop that. Your call log looks like you made a thousand outgoing calls to just him, stop that. You find yourself constantly checking to see if he read your Facebook message, STOP THAT. Respect yourself enough to save your dignity and pride and accept that no real man treats a woman in such a way to cause a frenzy. Understand that your worth, what you have to offer, it comes with respect. With that respect comes with the understanding that should a bump occur in your relationship, it can be handled like adults. This means with conversation, real communication that occurs face to face. Resolving issues does not involve immaturity without a solution, it means you hash it out without emoticons, and you get through the problem. Obsessing your days with a person who won’t give you the time of day is undeserving of your heart and beneath your respect because they clearly have none of their own.

Aside from recognizing when your behavior has exceeded the bounds of a healthy, sane person, it is also just as important to recognize when the person you’re pursuing is an ass. When I say ass, I mean unapologetically could care less if he spoke to you in a day or a week. I think to avoid a run on sentence it’s probably just best I make a list:

  1. They don’t have a job, don’t plan on getting one, have no motivation
  2. If they do have income, never offer to treat you to anything, you find yourself paying for them often
  3. This person has not introduced you to their family within a comfortable time frame since the relationship began, we’ll say 3-6 months depending
  4. Overly secretive in a non-mysterious hot way, as in they never leave their phone alone, whispering in secret, texting mystery people constantly in front of you
  5. They have no regard to your time or time spent for them, exceedingly unappreciative and you’ve never seen them reciprocate this to you
  6. Never, ever saying thank you, for anything
  7. You only see them on their terms, especially if that’s only late at night
  8. They’re in a relationship with someone else
  9. They’re pursuing you while you’re in a relationship with someone else
  10. They lie, about everything, easily, like breathing
  11. Friending you on Facebook, following on Instagram, whatever, isn’t an option because they’re “private” and “never on it” – it’s total crap
  12. They live with their parents, not because their aspiring to build a chalet in the alps or even a modest home in the ‘burbs, because they can’t afford bills. (See No.1)
  13. Your relationship was built out of cheating, and now you worry they’re cheating on you, history has a way of repeating itself
  14. They do not respect you as a person
  15. No desire to meet your needs
  16. No desire to meet your friends or family
  17. You find yourself chasing after them each time to do anything, even a simple conversation
  18. If they’ve cheated on you, continue to do so, and you stick around. This is an open invitation to treat you like crap
  19. They’ve managed to alienate you from the outside world, yet somehow it’s okay for them to have a social life. How dare you call your best friend? GET OUT NOW
  20. Extreme jealousy
  21. They’ve threatened you, your family, the dog, and meant it. Or followed through with this threat and abused you. Verbal/Emotional abuse counts.
  22. They’ve stood you up, several times, without any explanation or with a bogus one, only to do it again.
  23. They’re “just not ready to commit right now, but who knows” STOP BELIEVING THIS FREAKING LIE, IT’S A DAMN LIE
  24. They hit on other people, in front of you, constantly
  25. If he treats his mother with complete disrespect, this is his first role model in his life that is female and he doesn’t respect her. SHE GAVE BIRTH TO HIM. How do you think he’s going to treat you?

I think I’ve made my point.

Ladies, please hold your heart and your respect to a standard and never sway when someone tries to make you feel less than. The only person in control of how you feel, is yourself, don’t put your feelings in someone else’s hands and then become surprised when they’ve mistreated your heart. Stop forgetting what you’re worth. No I obviously don’t mean in a monetary sense, if you’ve read through this whole thing and think I’m pro-prostitution you’re clearly an idiot. Being alone, building your strength in love starting with yourself, there is no shame in that. The person out there who is deserving of who you are, what you have to offer, will respect you and love you without all the bullshit that assholes bring to the table.  In waiting, without the feeling of being jaded by all the ones who wronged you, you’ll find out why it was worth getting your heart broken once or twice maybe even a few times. Losing in what you thought was love only makes the real deal that much sweeter when it comes your way. So please, STOP THE CRAZINESS, and just start with creating the best version of yourself.

As Always,


Well…This is Awkward


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Okay, so I know why. All those depression posts actually got depressing and then I went all unemployed and things happen. Maybe we can rehash that. Maybe not. I really prefer to not. It’s kind of like since November 13, 2013 I’m pretty sure I’m okay with never revisiting all the bad.

For now, there is some good. I figured I needed to get into a better habit of writing if I’m really going to do this memoir thing. Because I was super gung ho like two days ago and I’ve already lost my steam. That was two.days.ago. What is with this? Half assery.

Anyways, I started reading Jenny Lawson’s book, “Let’s Pretend this Never Happened“. Which started a spiraling effect of word ideas and short stories that just started coming out like word vomit. I know I don’t own the rights to that phrase, but it was word vomit. Realizing that her stories paralleled much of my own life, it seemed a waste to let all these unwritten memories go to waste. Especially when I was in such a humorous state of mind. For those of you who have not read this, READ IT NOW. I don’t advise reading this in a Starbucks though, you will laugh latte all over yourself and that guy who hasn’t let emo go, will be staring at you. And there is nothing more humiliating than when the guy who still thinks Evanescence is relevant, is staring at you.

Let’s backtrack for a second though. As of not too long ago, I began my first real big girl job that requires regular daylight hours, only being here Monday through Friday, and I’m home in time for dinner. Except I make dinner. So there’s really no benefit to that. However, having all this night time left I’ve become a somewhat restless happy person. Money arrives every Thursday into my checking account like clockwork and I can actually afford to keep some of it. Weird huh? The best part about it all is that this whole part people keeping bitching about, working, isn’t so hard. I’m being paid to entrust that no one enters my building with something that can explode and then they leave. But if they do bring in a big boom, at least they signed in so we can account for body parts. It’s what we like to call in the energy industry, a “win-win”.

I’m kidding.

Sidenote: Don’t let cool whip dry, it’ll make you question every other time you’ve eaten cool whip. Don’t do this. I love cool whip.

So word vomit. It’s just happening right? Everything is now a hilarious story in an otherwise unfunny everyday routine. But there’s now sun and happy and laughing and all the good shit. Since I’m currently being paid to pretend to learn Chinese, expertly Google, and window shop on Amazon I feel it’s best to drop by here more often. If anything to just improve upon stories like this one:

When we had first moved to Florida in 1998, my dad expressed an undying interest in wanting to purchase a boat. A boat superior to the dingy he had bought to go on trips to Put-In-Bay in the summers we lived in Ohio. This sparked my irrational fear of sharks, before ever seeing one in real life, or watching “Finding Nemo”.

Fast forward to 1999, after my brother was born and my dad was on his second marriage. He had purchased a 27″ Maxim cabin cruiser, interior complete with brass accents and orange carpeting. On this particular weekend, my father had given up on trying to convince all of us that this was his fishing boat. Three kids under the age of ten and limited space had finally defeated him, subsequently resulting in a sandbar outing. Recently, he had discovered this dive called Jimbo’s, (if you were there pre-fire you know the smoked fish was worth the creepy sacrifice) and equipped with it’s own sandbar it made for a decent hangout. What he had failed to mention, was this was unlike our other beautiful blue waters we had grown accustomed. The water was murky, if visible at all, and suddenly my irrational fear about Jaws began to surface.
Meekly I ask if there is anything that can ‘get me’, “Yes, Ciara, there are sharks in the water”, my dad blurts out. I’m staring at my step mom carrying first, my baby sister to shore, and then my baby brother, a shark snack. What mother does this!? Carrying babies like something isn’t going to eat them up whole?

Seeing, what I assume, was a look of absolute fear on my face, my dad backtracks his statement by telling me they’re only ‘nurse sharks’. “Nurse sharks don’t have teeth, they just suck up what’s left on the bottom of the ocean. The worst one could to do is gum your arm. They’re harmless!”Having debunked several other irrational fears, it was a safe bet that this was the honest to God’s truth. “Nurse sharks. Harmless. Got it.”

The summer before my senior year of high school I spent roughly six weeks with my dad. He had moved on to an open fish, which is just boat lingo for ‘better fishing boat’. He was teaching me to free dive with some of his work friends, and occasionally would spot a snapper he needed to spear. By need I mean he used to have a catch phrase, “I kill things that blink”. During his spear fishing ADD, one of the work friends spots a nurse shark, and timidly dares me to grab it’s tail. He keeps telling me it’s a tiger shark (something you don’t want to pull the tail of), I assure him I know what I’m doing. Twice I dive down and pretend to tempt my fate as a daredevil with the imposter shark.
Swimming back to the boat I explain this silly story about a ‘fake tiger shark’, the dare, and mission accomplished. Mid laugh, this is my dad, “Why the hell would you do that!?!? That shark could’ve ripped your arm off!” “No dad, it was a nurse shark, they don’t even have teeth, remember?” “Seriously?”
“Yeah you said it could just gum me, so..”
“Forget what I said, it’s like a suction cup that sucks your arm off”

And more to come.
As Always,

Feelings, optional

May to November. Nearly a full six months of total writing solitude. NO more fake and empty promises I might add.

I’ve been living the life of what some might call, the system, the unfortunate, the poor. Had I known such unfortunate circumstances could become one individual, I would’ve caught the next plane out of such place. Instead, like many roads less traveled, I’ve wandered into a place I’m hoping has a motto of “the only way is up”. In comparison, two jobs turned into a surprising month of limitless pajama days and one promising apartment turned into a money witch hunt. 

Naturally, I’ve hired an accountant to look into the matter and all Mr. Merlot and Dr. Champagne had to say was that I have found myself in a deep pile of uh-oh. I’ve found that it’s very easy to hate laundry and never do it. Living out of a basket of unfolded clothes is much easier. Half walls can’t serve a purpose for decorations, therefore they’ve become a temporary closet for all interview belongings. Dust may settle and never be swept from it’s surface. One cat may eat all the crumbs as she wishes since food tends to be scarce in these parts. And the once dreaded pasta, bread, and potatoes have all now made homes in the belly of the poor girl who knows better. Eating something of color within the shades of green are an expensive delicacy these days. 

Social media is an after thought and all things relationship wise have ceased to exist beyond the number of fingers I have on one hand. Now I’m realizing why people created books, television, plays, and music. Especially wine. Vicariously living through other sources of activity make the impossible, possible and the poor, rich. The only parties thrown involve pity instead of happy and lately, the only attendee has four legs and sleeps most of the time. 

The concept of escape or espionage seem more and more real as the numbers in a bank account dwindle from three digits to one. How anyone has done this and seen the way through is remarkable, especially considering the gray circumstances. However, they may have made more compromises, more sacrifices, more more more than what I’m willing to let go of. More than one chooses to let go until pride and dignity feel chipped and worn. Until clothes with tattered edges and holes don’t appear trendy, they appear sad and forgotten. When decisions become based upon the hunger you’ve put off for hours, which then trumps the gas in your car. Visiting family is now on a needed basis instead of for gift bearing. Reaching out is no longer a hello, it’s a favor to ask and a shame to carry. Knocks on the door no longer carry the same weight in your step, they sound more like the people who need to fill their pockets too. It leads into wandering abandonment of any established justification reasoning as to why these fallen circumstances have fallen upon your shoulders and yours alone. The weight of them requires a doctor or help, places and people you feel are so out of touch with your moment in time. 

There’s always a tomorrow. Let’s see where that takes us.

Recent Events


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“Write everyday!” “Get back on the horse!” “Finish your tiny, unnecessary novel!”

Who was I kidding? Oh, that’s right, just myself. I’ve literally thought about my excerpt of the lives of my numbered characters for a solid three months. Possibly longer. I’ve experimented with scenarios of where to begin and realized I have had zero time to really get anything on paper, let alone online. What I have realized is how pathetically mundane and busy life is. For instance, I’m putting off Calc homework that’s currently due at 11:30 p.m. just so I can blab my current thoughts to you guys. 

In recent events I have been in a car accident, dealt with the loss of an unknowned loved one, had relationship trauma, and been without a car since said accident. Maybe later I’ll post a picture, for know now that I’m a miracle child for walking out of a flipped SUV. 

Moving on…my latest infatuation has been with caffeine. No idea as to why. I’ve always been extremely sensitive to it and in fact when consumed, I kind of have mini heart attacks. Yet since this whole flipping of my baby Dora, I’ve been obsessed with self-induced adrenaline rushes. The need for speeeeeedddd. Crazy I know. Starbucks on campus never knew what hit them. In light of this, I’ve realized a lot more potential in my days. It’s been awhile since I’ve been a complete nomad wandering through other people’s homes and interrupting their daily lives. It’s even more interesting when your brain is going at maximum speeds it hasn’t encountered before. Consequently, these mini heart attacks have left me in 300 mph conversations I don’t recall and arguements with an unfortunate boyfriend who has had to stick by me through everything.

What’s my point?

Let’s get to it. 

Many of my blog posts have been either real, bizarre, or real bizarre. In my blip of existence it’s come to my knowledge that everything may be in set in place for you and the schedule of your days may seem permanent. Times listed and varied as rules to abide by so you may  “live” a “full” life. That is until those permanent appointments to make you life better, have been skewed, re-examined, and then thrown out the window. So now you are left with big gaps of time you never knew existed in your day that you have spent wasted wondering and worrying about the next moment in time. And with all the harlem shakes, cat videos, studying and what not’s who knew you had this break in your day to sit down and think? I didn’t. 

It’s quite a renaissance of your own world to realize that within your daily blub, you have all these seconds to keep for just yourself and dote on them. Biding extra time to do what you want. WHATEVER YOU WANT. So for realsies this time, I am taking an oath of a 60 day writing fast. Writing everyday because of time wasted. Time wasted in a frame of my days that I thought never existed. That you thought never existed. Caffeine speed, full throttle, and annoyance of all who have to put with me, I will be using this venue to blurt out the first thought that comes to mind. 

My point is that if I put this out for the world, then I have to abide by my promise. Because your days are too surreal and short to NOT actualize them to the world. 


On an entirely separate note, I’ve become obsessed with the world of nail art? NO idea where that came from. I’ve been spending money on the economy in China for this new obsession. It’s odd, I’m aware. 


Until next time kids.


As Always and with love,


Burning the candle at both ends.
It just feels like each day melts into the next.
Every hour between day and night it’s emptier than the last.

Leaves blow and gusts carry through, carrying the remnants of memories.
Those who walked, experienced before us.
They too wanted so much more than they were given.
And even in the face of all gifts, the wanting never stops. Our sacred thoughts and beautiful minds have all been poisoned and nurtured just the same.

It would be so simple just to embrace the color of it one more time.
Please let us feel the glow, the brightness, of innocence.
Escape from these dark matters and let the glitter of what we remember as hope, shine upon our inner most dreams as well as our outward most demeanors.

Continue reading



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Frankie Spanks

Everything hurts. My eyes are too swollen to close. My head is throbbing too much to clearly think. Every thought is more painful than the last.

My little man, Frankie Spanks, Allen, Spankie, my Frankie, has been placed into the hands of time. I can’t say the real words. I can’t express this feeling in the pit of my stomach that feels only to what can be describe as, something eating its way from the inside out. A victim to congestive heart failure, this little guy fought the good fight until he simply couldn’t sustain his own body any longer.

I want to say that it was easier to let him go, and be by my mother’s side. Holding hands as we waited for our options, to only ever be thinking the same solution to his pain. This wasn’t easy. It hadn’t occurred to me that we would be taking a fuzzy lump in his bed to get better, only to return home with an empty bed. All of two hours, slowly flooding my memory of the last eight years with our little angel.

I wont be sleeping tonight. I don’t know if I can sleep ever. This hole that exists, won’t stop enlarging. I can’t stop the bees, the bees are stinging.


I love you Always & Forever

Post-Apocalyptic Post-Mortem Love Song


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I keep writing. Everything in my skull keeps pouring out into anything I can get my hands on.

Benefit of being mildly depressed, but not having the balls to jump off the deep end? Twisted dreams become your own and insane novel concepts clutter your daily thoughts. Without fail I’ve conjured up a most disturbing prologue to a book I may never write, based upon two characters known as 28 and 31. It reads like a song but it feels like a place I could belong to. Eerily it begins rather dark, as does a lot of my writing.

My soul must be in mourning. It rivals a starving animal I haven’t fed for months.

If it had been seconds, we were lost for years. If words had measured our time, we were absent for novels. Eons of literature splashed upon pages that had engulfed us two.
The fate that was ours was a magical fire. Within this we were washed of every essence of our innocence, sentenced to burn eternal.

We, 31 and I, began our journey in a time when no souls knew of an infinite existence. How beautiful the memories are that we held, no senses of the body were void of purpose. It was foolish of our young souls to be so careless, our grasp on life everlasting was hardly a twinkle in any eye.

Had we not faced the greatest war of our kind, we may have not discovered our safe haven. My name is 28, forever bound to the world’s greatest, 31. Together it has been an exhausting existence, but our stories weren’t meant to fall upon deaf ears. These are unbreakable moments in time that were meant to be heard in time eternal.

It’s honestly just an introduction..I don’t know if I have the attention span for a novel? But since this is a blog that isn’t succumbed to the masses, It’s my own personal decision to continue the story of 28 and 31. My tendency with writing, is to always fall off track and lose focus, so from this point today (I will try) to write a little of my Post-Apocalyptic Post-Mortem Love Story.

As Always,


A Great Escape


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At the back of my brain, has been this nagging thread to write again. A yank, just slight enough, that desperately wants to assessed and dealt with. The answer to this persistently small problem, lies in the parts of my life that no one ever sees. The moments you are alone in your own dreams and those foggy perceptions of everyday tendencies.

Which brings me back to Hooker B, once again. A friend in the loneliest of instances, where you find me fading off into a rather emotional abyss that is neither dark nor void of color. As of recent, this everyday has taken me into a deeper and more or less pathetic state. One rolled ankle, feebly walking down narrow passages to make ends meet with no satisfaction being found. This is all so depressing sounding, isn’t it?

By no means do I need  measly words of encouragement. Not that any proverbial boosting of the self esteem, isn’t warranted, I’m just not that kind of person. But I do apologize for the reoccurring theme I’ve been leaning on. You see, I’ve found that no matter where I choose to place myself in this vast space of a world, it’s left me void of challenges and real accomplishment. Yet, for whatever reason, I keep indirectly finding ways to put wedges between myself and true pleasure & worthwhile feats. For every individual that has seen hard times, knows of the points where you feel like you’ve reached the very bottom until you realize alas, it was not. Where you find that in ways, you never dreamed you would end up here at this point in time, ever.

It is with all of this, that I find myself looking upwards and wondering how far, how long, it must take to actually reach it. At various instances, your optimism may be soothing and the circle of life may appear that it’s most certainly working it’s magic. However, what one wants to obtain, still isn’t anywhere near attainable and sadly, your psychological ‘fluff’ eventually diminishes. Suddenly, you’re lying awake attempting to place a value on what you want so badly, what you have been working for all this time. What appears to be a linear timeline of set goals, set standards, feels multidimensional and all too overwhelming.

Diligent work and physical time can come bearing down like an unforgiving flood defeat. Why am I not where I want to be? Or how is it that where I want to be, is no longer fulfilling? Over the span of our lives, all we see, all we hear is how great everything else is, how much greener their grass is. As any living entity, we want our dreams, our set standards, our greener side to everything. This is why when you reach the point in time that I have, all the build up of those ideals realistically has been built of immaterial. One star among many, blinding with light that now glimmers the same with the masses.

If this isn’t making sense to some of you, then perhaps you’ve found your way without ever drifitng off or becoming lost. Personally, one journey I’ve staggered towards for years appears to just keep getting longer     while also becoming more taxing. By no means, do I suggest that anyone forgo their tenacity to keep pushing in the direction of their choice. These words are a shaking of hands to keep in mind that however alone you must be, you never truly are. It’s a way of elaborating in a whimsical manner. To gather your minds philosophies, on how to admit failure in a period of desperate want for success. Devoting ones innermost ruminations to the acceptance that now may not be where you imagined.

Without appearing too far off the deep end, I hope to deliver this message to the audience in which is for and that it is well received. Pain may be evidence that we are alive, but there exists other sensabilities to nurture the grimness of normal existence.

As Always,


Gather Here


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It feel like a reoccurring theme with me, life struggles, problems, issues. No matter which way you sugar coat it, life is just so hard. It’s bills, it’s rent, buying groceries with tip money, never having enough money. The list goes on, but when does it stop ? Nobody even prepared anyone for the adventure of the dismal 20s. All anyone has ever talked about it, is how amazing it was to be in their 20s. They were in better shape, they studied abroad, met amazing guys/girls, and drank the best champagne.

Let me give you a little insight, this is a bitch fest of a blog and these so called glory days are giving me hell. It’s more than embarrassing to go to the welfare department for food stamps, or because you simply can’t afford the cost of a heating bill. Honestly, the only thing keeping me together these days is just getting through the day. Life couldn’t be more depressing, knowing that you live in an environment where everyone around you is going through a similar struggle. One would think that it would be more supportive and encouraging to go through all these steps of the journey with friends, frankly it’s not.

Sympathy really isn’t required, but I will inform those readers who can relate to some degree. The reason I haven’t been blogging is purely based off of laziness because of the heavy amounts of stress I’ve endured over the past few months. Every day situations seem to overcome my own being and I can’t escape it. Having financial problems are just another to not want to write or vent. At one point I wasn’t sure I could pay my cable bill. This coming from the girl who has always seen no excuse in making ends meet, no matter the cost. There has always been a will and way, lately though, these resources I’ve so much relied on aren’t there.

Without ranting too much more before falling to tears, let’s put this whole scenario in a way you might all relate to. Many of us have been laid off in the past few years and have reached the bottom of the barrel with rough times. Even more of us have had to resort to lows we would have never fathomed of. It’s hard enough just trying to maintain, without having the rest of the world try to kick you while you’re down. You might have kids, a failed mortgage, or a sick one so close to your heart. Let’s take all the aspects of the world against one person and throw them into one melting pot.

I literally cannot stress how important it is to keep your allies you’ve had in life. Whether they be family or friends, the ones who love you most are the only ones who will ever, EVER, be there in the end. Reluctantly, I’ll admit that I’ve hit rock bottom to a degree. With every step, it seems that the universe may actually be against me. Such a depressing  view point isn’t it? I know people that have beaten cancer with better perspectives. But somehow, it is truly killing me that I can’t get past this bump in the road.

Each minute it seems like I might as well burst into tears over this misfortune. How first world can I possibly be? People die everyday because they can’t simply eat. This is what I’m talking about. The tango I have been dancing really needs to come to a fantastic encore. At the very least, some general input that doesn’t involve bullshit philosophical quotes, would be greatly appreciated. Just until my feet touch ground again and I don’t feel like beating everyone that irritates me with a mag lite, American History X style. Trust me, I’m at the point of curb stomping the next dumb blonde that bumps into me at a bar. On that note, I should probably stop typing.

As Always,

Don't even think about it