Talking about rape, abortion, adoptions - also the last 20 years of my life. Don't read it if you don't want to read about yucky stuff. Go anywhere else on my blog, there's plenty.
Hell is where the heart is
Don’t Judge a Cover by its Book
The world said toss out intuition and with it the capability to make a decision. Though we are clueless, god still knows who amongst us is bought and sold. Our shadow is the constant cursed companion, but our love is the one with knives in backs. With a smile and a kiss, we gave away... Continue Reading →
#GetOffMyLawn
I don't know why I barely write anymore, and it's driving me nuts. It's as if I lost the desire to do the one thing I love doing most, and I honestly don't know how I feel about it! I said the other day, "If I truly wanted to write, I would have written, and... Continue Reading →
What If I Am Wrong? (Part 1 of 3) What If I Am Wrong (Part 2 of 3) I take medication to keep me stable, but worry that I am hurting myself more than helping. I meditate and write to heal, but worry that I am proliferating my own madness. I try to be an... Continue Reading →
What If I’m Wrong (Part 2 of 3)
What If I Am Wrong? (Part 1 of 3) Prior to the hospital, I was convinced that I was supposed to write and help others. I was convinced that if I wrote, everything would be fine. Then, I got convinced my ex was talking to me through music. I got convinced my phone was hacked... Continue Reading →
What If I Am Wrong? (Part 1 of 3)
(Splitting this long post into 3, because I hate ridiculously long blog posts...) Those five words echo hauntingly in my mind. There is a part of me that wonders what I would be able to accomplish if I did not second guess myself constantly. I read not that long ago that people born under a... Continue Reading →
Remembering the static
When I was little, I was obsessed with collecting crystals and I was also drawn to meditation. Â I remember my favorite meditation was to imagine putting all of my worries into a hot air balloon and blowing it up and away with my breathing. Â I would do it every night. Â Even then, anxiety was a... Continue Reading →
Mah Butt Itches 