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


, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

“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



, , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,


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


, , , , , , , , , , ,

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


, , , , , , ,

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


, , , , , , , , ,

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



, , , , ,

Hooker B. has gone on quite the hiatus and I apologize to all four of my followers who’s lives were completely uninhibited by my lack of posts. To be honest, my creativity has been rather lackluster and the idea of blurting out meaningless crap just seemed pathetic. However, count on a little magic coming your way soon. Let’s say there will be booze and breaking news. Sounds good.

As Always,


Being Broke


, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Just a few things to sum up my last few weeks:
Tried to buy Christmas gift for small brother
Bought Christmas gift for small brother
Got suspended from work
Went back to work
24 hours later got fired from work
Can’t afford gift for small brother
Currently unemployed and feeling lousy

So I figured that the rest of the world might want to be reminded of what its like to ACTUALLY be in your prime. Because let me tell you folks, be happy you’re 30 or older, be happy you have security, what you used to imagine as the best days of your life were just figments of your imagination. Yes, if you’re lucky your twenties are a hoot and the world is your oyster. Has anyone ever told you how infectious and nasty oysters are? No, they didn’t. This period of college times means you have to get with it in the real world, which also means you’re probably going to have no money. You’re probably going to be flat on your ass broke.

Being broke means listening to noises in your car and completely ignoring them.
It means that all of a sudden, your parents have become your best friends and also your reluctant ATM.
It means you squint at your pantry trying to decide if peanut butter, pasta, and applesauce might work.
Being broke makes your cat love you, because it’s the only one eating three balanced meals a day.
It means that every day is kind of a bad day, therefore you want a drink.
You spend money on drinks you can’t afford and justify them by a lame excuse, “I deserve this!”
When buying gas, you are also deliberating on how much to put in based on how hungry you might be.
The dollar menu is appealing, but after consumption you have zero motivation to do anything, ever.
Going to class does not make you want to finish your degree, it makes you want to stab someone in the eye for dressing up to a lecture.
When you’re broke, your rich friends on Facebook make you wish you won the lottery.
If you live on your own, bills have become subjected to the eenie-meenie-minie-moe game, to decide on which one gets paid first.
You make the irrational decision to stop paying car insurance because you think you’re a good driver, what could happen?
Leaving your house only adds up to dollars and cents in your head and you would rather mope in your living room.
Craigslist has become your new best friend in “Get Rich Quick” pyramid schemes.
Being broke makes you wish you had better credit to get a credit card.
When you have good credit, you max out your credit card and loathe the monthly payments.
But most of all, being broke makes you value a dollar like you never had before.
Suddenly, all of the parenting you’ve received about finances is starting to ring a bell and you can hear your parents saying, “I told you so”.
Because being broke is the crappiest, most useful learning experience you might ever have.

As Always,



, , , , , ,

Let’s talk about finances! Let me hear you say “Yeah!”
I wanna hear you say “Oh Yeah!”

In my head people are clapping and crowds are cheering. Someone tells me there’s medication for this sort of thing. I wish there was medication for taxes.
Don’t you wish taxes came with the hilarity and excitement of a deep south Baptist preacher? Maybe you don’t, but I do. In some way, I find  it hard to believe that there are degree holding people, able and ready to do your taxes but some website just let’s any John Doe have it. This smells largely of conspiracy.

I’m sorry..what? Did I GO BLIND? In another series of questions it asked if I had attended school all of 2011 and in the same series asked if I was convicted of a drug related felony. Turbo Tax will also hide the fact that their service isn’t free whatsoever. There’s a charge for using the service and then an additional $30 bucks for them to take it out your refund as a processing fee. Who feels dumb and has two thumbs? This girl.

Let’s be serious, as a college student, I just want my money to cover my rent and maybe a little booze down the road. Lord knows we all could use a little cash in our pockets, why take advantage of the lowest income ‘tards that you all despise? America barely sees us as adults, but just enough to hold us responsible for our actions and make sure we file our taxes so they can scrape off their pennies from our meager earnings. Pathetic. I’m hauling my lovely bits of paper to H&R for my free return, enough of this crap.

P.S – my last post didn’t include the photos I wanted it to due to the fact that my phone is on the fritz. That will be edited very soon.

As Always,


Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.