July 3, 2014
Lately I have been constantly pondering what I should do in my life. This is on my mind since I recently graduated from college with a Bachelor’s degree in Psychology.
My plan is to continue with graduate school as that’s the only way I can get a good job in the mental health field.
The only problem is I keep coming face-to-face with the thought of “what truly makes me happy?” I can honestly say I’m completely unsure about the answer to this question.
I thought becoming a clinical psychologist is what I truly wanted but so many road blocks keep coming in my way and I feel unsure if that’s what I really want.
I have been asking myself what I want, what will make me happy and love my life but I come up empty.
I’ve tried to turn to my dreams because I use them sometimes as insight into my inner self but I haven’t gotten anything out of them.
I just don’t know how to figure myself out. I can understand other people and see what makes them happy and see what they want to do in life but I’m not as perceptive of myself. Sometimes I feel like a stranger. I know you can’t figure out your life in a couple months but I hate this feeling of uncertainty. I just wish someone would tell me what to do or what I want because I am so indecisive and I am just clueless.
June 19, 2014
I took a scriptwriting class and learned how to format a script and wrote a few pages of things here and there.
It was a great learning experience and I believe I have really started producing something of great quality. It’s actually the first time I’ve written something, read what I wrote, and not hated it afterwards.
So far I have written one act of my script, it’s a little over 20 pages long. I don’t want it to be super long and I pretty much have idea of where I want it to go in my head. Inspiration strikes me at the oddest time though. When I’m blasting music on my drive from Orlando to Miami. Now let me tell you, it’s kind of hard to write a script while driving. So, I still only have the first act done. I really want to develop this script and complete it I’m just having trouble putting my thoughts onto the page.
Well I’ve been going on about this script without revealing the basis of the story. Alas reader, I shall inform you. It’s a simple script, in my opinion, about a young man who is a fairly recent widow and dealing with his grief. He is sort of dealing with it in an odd way by forming an immensely close relationship with his cat Bliss. The story goes on from there showing the problems he encounters because of this relationship and dealing with the grief of losing his wife.
So that is what my in progress script is about, now I just need to get the rest of the script (it’s currently in my heard) onto the page. I don’t know why it’s so hard but this is something I really want to complete. I don’t know what I’m going to do with it once it’s finished but I really want to finish it. Maybe I should put it in my “schedule” (not that I really have one). Maybe I should attempt to write it while driving (don’t worry I won’t really do that-I am somewhat of a safe driver). I do plan on finishing it though and I guess right now I am obligating myself by setting a goal to finish it before the end of this year! Ha future me! I got you roped into this now.
Signing off, thanks for listening/reading (if you got this far down).
I do appreciate it.
June 12, 2014
For a large percentage of my life darkness has been a huge fear of mine. I can’t tell if has gotten worse or remained the same. I do know that being somewhere that is pitch black, especially all by myself, produces a scream in my throat and the tightening of all the muscles in my body. I will stand paralyzed and close my eyes to the darkness that I can control myself.
I’ve learned to stay away from this type of darkness by having a little light in my life constantly. As a child I had my nightlight always ready to switch on after my mother tucked me tightly into bed, reminding me not to let the bed bugs bite, before she turned off my lamp that lightened up the entire room. I further protected myself with a plethora of stuffed animals. They were my guards. And I always kept my glow-in-the-dark bear closest to my heart.
As I grew I traded my night light to the soft glow of my television screen, and was guarded by only one stuffed animal and a body pillow. I’ve tested myself and attempted to fall asleep without any light. I’ve managed to do this only when I have been extremely exhausted and could barely keep my eyes open. Even when I manage to fall asleep in complete darkness I will sometimes wake up in the middle of the night, the fear will present itself and I will quickly scramble for the power button on the remote.
I feel I must go into more detail on why darkness has such an affect on me. I believe it’s more than just darkness. It’s actually the combination of darkness and the silence I hear. Without the television on I have no light or sound and can hear every movement outside my windows and throughout the house. Every little sound will scare me because it is unknown. It makes it harder for me to sleep as it makes my thoughts race. What if someone is in the house? Some stranger? Some weird presence? Nothing good happens in the darkness and I hate not being to see the things that make the noise. That is why the fear of darkness really eats me up because it makes my thoughts louder than ever and they can go to some really dark places that I can’t bring myself back from.
The biggest help is having someone nearby. Another room helps a little. But sleeping with someone by my side is the ultimate treasure. Forget an empty house, I can’t do it, just thinking about it gives me the chills. Sleeping near someone makes it easy to handle the darkness because I know I’m not alone. Plus, they can tell me I’m being silly when i share my thoughts on some random intruder coming in to murder us.
I do hope one day I can teach myself to be able to sit in complete darkness while wide awake and not have the paralyzing fear that the darkness causes me now. I believe I can do it but for now I’m happy just having someone by my side.
June 7, 2014
I am giving life to this once again.
I must allow my creative juices to flow. No limitations to myself. No excuses to hold back and write another day.
I will be there for those in need. I will provide a unique outlook. I will reveal my true self.
I have my own questions I will put out and give forth to the world.
I want responses, and welcome them. But silence is pleasing too.
Whoever you are I am here for you. This is a safe place. I just want to listen and share my experiences.
Let us begin again.
I am here now and in the future. Hear me shout into the void and shout back!
May 22, 2013
She held out her wrinkled hand to save the delicate parchment from being tarnished. A teardrop escaped through the gaps of her fingers obscuring the name following “Love”. It mattered no more for she could no longer remember the face attached to the name.
September 19, 2012
I am bound by words and books.
Stuck inside a social circle. All gaps closed. No escape.
The air I breathe is as fake as the smile across my face.
I must stay clean and presentable, so no nose upturns in my presence.
My aroma must be that of a rose I shall never touch.
I am all chemicals.
Time is no longer mine. It is held captive by those who wielded my chains.
I need the blue skies and bright stars. The soil of the ground holds my nourishment.
I am dying without oxygen from the greenery.
I am dying to be free.
June 11, 2012
There is a time and a place.
That’s what parents say to their kids. The thing is some behaviors can’t wait for the right time or the right place. Once in awhile luck will shine and the behavior oozing out of your body faster than a tipped over oil drum will happen in solitude. However, most times it spills out where you don’t want it. Overflowing onto others. It’s too much to stop by yourself yet you try your hardest. The panic sets in as you lose control and start to feel powerless. You see the mess that has come from you but pretend it’s not really there. That it’s all in your head.
All you need to do is ask for help. You refuse it.
Just ask for help.
May 29, 2012
Everything is still and silent. Avery lay askew on her bed. Her body contorts making it look like a crime scene save for the rise and fall of her chest.
Avery’s eyes bolt open to the sound.
She sits up, wondering what is disturbing her sleep as she wipes her eyes clean.
Her head darts to the door. The possibility that she left something on is the only reason she decides to get up and investigate. She walks out of her bedroom towards the sound.
It’s coming from her office. Her steps are noiseless on the hardwood floor as she makes her way to the door at the end of the hall. She enters the room illuminated by streetlamps, the light falling directly upon a foreign box on her desk. It was not there earlier.
Standing in front of the box she can feel the beating in her ears. Vibrations cross through her. There is a lock that she is determined to open when she finds a key in her hand. It’s a perfect fit as she inserts it and lifts the lid with no resistance.
Her eyes widen as they take in the object within.
“I just wanted you to give me the key, “ a hard voice rings out.
Avery looks towards the doorway where a tall figure now stood. It steps closer and closer becoming more visible.
“Peter?” Avery asks as the man’s features became more prominent from the light of the streetlamps.
His mouth opens wide, “Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!”
Avery is startled awake. She has to shield her eyes from the blinding fluorescent lights of the hospital room. The beeping from her dream continues and Avery quickly stands up from the chair she was sleeping in next to her former boyfriend’s hospital bed. She looks at the monitor attached to his body and becomes entranced by the movement of the lines. Up down, up down, up down.
She realizes the lines are moving too fast. She inhales the room then pushes it all out as she screams for the nurse. For anyone. Quick talking attendants that glide around Avery without a second glance take over the room.
It’s crowded as the hospital staff do their ritual. Checking the monitor. Looking at papers. At a chart. Giving commands. They move around the room, never touching Avery who is statue in the middle of the room. She can’t take her eyes off the man that was her boyfriend. He looks so different, a sea creature with all the tubes coming out of him.
“Peter,” someone whispers softly.
Avery wants to leave but her feet are lead and can’t be lifted. She watches the doctor enter and he gives an order with the wave of his hand as he looks directly at her.
“Peter,” someone whispers again and again. It’s all Avery can hear.
A young male nurse grabs Avery by the arms saying words in her ear that she can’t decipher. He lifts her up a little off the ground once he sees her legs won’t work with him. He sits her in a seat outside the room and pats her shoulder.
“Everything will be okay,” he says with a sympathetic smile.
Avery tries to smile back before he rushes back into the room but the whispering distracts her.
“Peter,” the voice whispers.
A person sitting in a seat across the way looks up and she knows they hear the voice too. She keeps hearing “Peter” and the person just stares at her with crinkles in their forehead. Avery suddenly understands she has been saying his name this whole time.
February 26, 2012
There is a
deep in the caves
of my mind.
There are little men
with school-bus yellow
and a miniature light
brightening the darkness.
They have pickaxes and hammers,
to store the golden threads
they harshly chip off
It is taken home to
their tiny wives in loud aprons that barely cover their
I have these two pills, bone white
on my flesh.
Goodbye little men.