It all comes down to

They have always been hard to understand for you. You know you’re not the only one like this. The one time you thought it was for real (at least to you it was) and you were kicked to the curb. So then it began.

It started with a flicker and now it’s a roaring flame. Even water won’t douse it now. Because how dare anyone reject you? You know you’re nowhere near divine, but that does not give anyone the right to dismiss you for no reason.

You figure maybe it’s just that one person. So you try again.

And again.

And again.

‘Til you’re on attempt number five and you finally push the pause button for a sec. Just to see how desperate for reciprocated affection you have become. As if that is enough to validate you as a lovable human being. It’s not. And you find out too late, after everyone else already got the memo. Typical you.

“It must’ve gotten lost in the mail,” they say to assuage your bleeding heart. Whatever.

So it begins—the end of deciphering drunk texts. The beginning of incessant whatevers. A place you want to stay in, possibly forever, possibly until someone shows you nothing short of a miracle, that they are ecstatic to be with you, know exactly how you would fit into their lives, and can’t wait to start. In the moment, you just want that reaction. You can unravel all the fine print later.

when you are sure you want it back.
Otherwise, it’s
defer a little

Like a college kid on the brink of entering med school, getting a much-needed interlude before adulting for real.


*~Hey you, lovely person reading this.~* There’s more at Conceited Crusade, a collaborative blog I joined back in May, where my fellow Crusaders and I try to wrangle words together that make sense. Or do we? Only one way to find out…And if you like what you read, won’t you give us a Like? Every time you don’t, a fairy drops down dead!


do you mind?

Me in large doses is dangerous. You’ll start to assume and question every little thing. Every little thing until you drop on the couch. But then you can’t recline there with your legs apart and do nothing unless you close your eyes.

Yes, close your eyes and when you open them again, you regret the time that slipped away that you can never get back.

So you reach for your phone and watch music videos or read tweets or emails and Google nonsensical items that won’t stick afterwards. The ones that do end up as writing material somewhere.

Me in large doses is dangerous. When someone asks for advice, I tell them one thing and do another. Do as I say, not as I do is my philosophy.

I love philosophy, but I wouldn’t major in it and offended someone who did. Nothing I say is safe. There’s always someone who’s offended or disagrees. Somehow I’m still alive.

Penny for my thoughts. But what if my thoughts could kill? Is it worth the copper then?

Me in large doses is dangerous. You say something and it’ll inevitably be a song lyric and I’ll spit it out back at ya. You try to mimic on the fingerboard and f holes and sound posts, and sometimes you nail it, but other times, you make an epic fail.

I want to take you somewhere far away, some sanctuary where you can be free from it all. In reality, you get awkward phrases attempting to disguise themselves as sentences and end up more confined than you started. Don’t ask me how words can do that. They just can.

So keep your distance, unless you don’t mind the side effects.



I’m always behind in my updates. Partially because lots happen from the moment some Event in my life sneaks in. (Is event the right word? Oh well.) Partially because I’m torn over the proper “format” for such a post. Most of the time I have some screw loose in my head and I don’t know how to put Humpty Dumpty back together again.

The best way to go about this is instead of doing two separate updates, I will group these together because both changes in my life go hand-in-hand in providing my brain with amusing stimulation on a daily basis. I’ll give you guys the short version first. Ready?

In April I started working at MotoFuze as a Content Writer. In May I started writing at Conceited Crusade.


Hold your horses! I mean…brains…

I’m late, I’m late for a very important date…

I have a bunch of updates coming very soon, but first! The Babe challenged me some time last week to do a free write on the word, “zombie.”

When was this? Some time a few years ago, right? It had sometingt to do with bath salts and I remember the guy with one letter in his name told me about it. I freaked out because e he ws implying that zombie s exist now and I was thainking what?! So I wnt home and Googled it right away of course because sadly, I didn’t know kno even know what bath slats were. Homeless guy ate a face off pictures of police officers running after halloweedn come to life. Was this happening now? For realz? I’ going to take a bath and rub salt all over my body? Am I going to be fed to a cannibal? Silne ece of the labms heart of darneks ness joshep Conrad I saw that apovalaype now movie with my romaniona girl frind back in college why do I keep talking about college? Warm bodies. One of my friends saw that and said t it ws relaly good, but I haven’t seen it yet. I on’t don really fascinate with szombie and walking dead on the visual screen like most people are my ex used to lov e zombie he probably still does know butr I will never know buecase I do NOT want to go back there not that it ended pbadly maybe our erealtinoship is a zsombie relatioshop now

Time: 5 minutes
Words: 228

I really enjoyed doing this free write and if you want to find out more about The Babe, Fred Colton just did an interview, check it out: Verging on Notoriety: An Interview with The Babe



You don’t know how blonde I am. Yes, I am aware I have black hair, although that’s up for debate since black hair is not a Thing That Exists. For a minute I went through a hair identity crisis and thought I was classified as a brunette. Funny, the person I had this conversation with is still in New York where I left him, but in a way, he’s no longer in my life. For now. Maybe this time he’s really gone forever. Maybe not. I wish I was the one being indecisive, but this is all on him. He’s probably blissfully unaware. Oh well. Not my problem.

I think it’s more of a problem for me being blonde on the inside than to worry about someone I lost in New York. What I lost in New York I can always get it back in someone else, right? At least in theory that’s how it works I guess. I’ve been doing a lot of guessing lately. And when there’s competition thrown in the mix, I usually back out and let the other ones win. I ain’t interested in being no second or third or fourth choice. I am interested in being someone’s first choice. That’s how I do. Everyone else just needs to chillax.

I chillaxed last night. 😉 In fact, doubled up on the chillaxing. More on that later. I think.

Haha, in tenth grade I failed a world history test on something I can’t remember what because I ran out of time to do the essay portion and just wrote, “I think.” I should have ended the sentence with “therefore I am” and left it at that.

Failing is something that makes my face burn. And the word “burn” reminds me of Jenny Han. She has a book out with that in the title. Alas, I will never get to read every single book I want to read. I have so many just on YA alone. Then there are others in other genres. I could spend a whole lifetime reading every single book in existence and it wouldn’t be enough time. There is never enough time.

Life runs out like sand in an hourglass.