Dead of night, dead of mind

Sometimes late at night when I can’t sleep and those horrid mind-numbing feelings sink in, the best thing I can do is just spout out my emotions in writing. (Usually in my ever handy iPhone and sometimes, like below, it comes out in odd verse.) My fingers begin typing away in a mad fury and before I know it, I’ve written out what I’m feeling and I begin to heal. I’m no poet, but my mind seems to try and make an attempt when it’s late at night and stuck in one of those states.


What’s wrong with me? I don’t understand.

How can days of light and joy turn into a dark and sickening trance?

I’m empty inside, I can barely smile.

When I go to bed at night my face contorts into a cry.

What use to make me happy is dead, it’s gone inside.

A thick branch of cold dim hands has grasped onto my mind.

I can’t speak up, what would I even say?

I have no idea what’s happening. Oh God, please make it go away.

Like a hooded mask of death I can feel him stand close by.

Or is it all in my head, I want to crush it all inside.

It’s sick, it’s twisted, I’m scared, I loathe my mind, this hidden lie,

how can I ever escape this somber sensation of wanting to die?

Does anyone else find themselves releasing their pain when they write it out? It’s almost as if you may be suffering, but you’ve turned it into something productive. Although for me, in the morning I look at what I wrote in those late night moments and think, “What the…?”


Photo Credit


Journey to The Wisdom Tree

About two years ago, my boyfriend and I decided to take a hike to “The Wisdom Tree.” I don’t know if that’s what it’s actually called or if my French friend, who made the expedition before us, christened it with that name. If you happen to live in the LA valley area, you can see it in the Hollywood hills. It’s just kind of standing up there all alone. Poor guy. However he’s become pretty popular so he’s not that lonely anymore. In fact, the coolest thing about this guy is he comes with a treasure box of some sort and inside is an old notebook where everyone who visits this tree writes something. It was filled with poetry, happy entries, sad entries, declarations of love and drawings. Well, you’d think if I had the chance to spill my heart and soul out in a book after a Lord of the Rings like venture to the top, I would have written something beautiful. Something heartfelt.  Something freakin’ smart. I mean, this tree was called, “The Wisdom Tree.” But no, I chose to draw a picture of me with a sword and some dumb alter-ego type name. Syren. Or Syrin. Some little video game character name of mine spelled differently for different games. That was it. I mean, it wasn’t bad but come on. In my defense, I didn’t know about the book until I got there so I wasn’t prepared. That’s apparently what you get from me when I’m put on the spot. Well, I decided to make a trip again and redeem myself in front of “The Wisdom Tree.”

It was a beautiful day for it. While the rest of the country was freezing, (I think my hometown in Alabama got flurries!) California was its bright and sunny usual self. All decked out in my new Christmas gifted running gear, I was ready to hike…this…

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So it was dusty, dirty, and very steep. Like I said, I had done this before, but it was a different route. This one felt a little more of an incline. And let me also mention there were plenty of rocks that didn’t want to just lie still while you were doing your climbing. No, they liked to roll right out from under this falling prone hiker’s feet. But I grew up on this activity, so I stuck with it. I mean, I had to get to that book. And despite it being a hot day, the view was gorgeous. You could see the whole valley and the city in the distance.

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And finally, “The Wisdom Tree.”

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And wouldn’t you know it, the book wouldn’t be there anymore. Someone took it a long with my half-assed drawing forever preserved in “The Wisdom Tree” archives. I think there’s a lesson of some sort to be learned here, but oh well. (By the way, that’s not my boyfriend under the tree. Some guy named Spencer who was shouting his life story for the whole valley to hear. Hence, me knowing his first name. Don’t you just love being out in nature and then there’s that one guy with the megaphone voice? Thanks, Spencer.)

Overall though, it was a lovely day. Perhaps I’ll just have to bring my own notebook up there next time I make the trip.

photo (8)I hope you all are having a wonderful weekend!

A Big Thank You


I would like to thank my fellow bloggers, Kink&Baggage, for nominating me for the very awesome Liebster Award! They have such a full of life, fun, and interesting blog I love looking through, that it really humbles me to be recognized by them. Since I was nominated for this award, here are some questions they asked me:

1. Why start a blog? 

Well, I guess it all goes back to how I really enjoy reading other blogs. Just the everyday humor, advice, and stories that are told always capture my interest. What really drove me to start my own, are those that just open up and put themselves out there. I find myself connecting and feeling less alone when I can relate to others. I know it’s not always an easy thing to just put down your guard and share on the internet your inner most thoughts and feelings, but I find that it does help (in my case) to read what others have to say. I enjoy writing, and have found starting my own blog and getting to hear from others very uplifting. Who would have thought the internet could be so kind?

2. When, where, and how often do you find inspiration to write?

If we’re talking writing my blog, it comes from a few different areas. When I’m feeling depressed or down, and sometimes just outright angry, I find jotting down how I feel (usually in my iPhone since it’s always with me) as a kind of therapy. It gets those feelings off my chest and actually makes me feel better because suddenly I’ve turned this pain into something creative. There I will transfer them onto my blog to share if I wish. Other posts just come from interesting thoughts that go through my head or maybe something I have done or witnessed I’d like to share. I also do a lot of creative stories outside of my blog I’d like to publish. The inspiration from those always come from stories daydreamed in my mind. What also really helps me is music. Whether I’m listening to it in the car or while I run, every song turns into a story or scenario that I turn into something bigger. This probably comes from my love of movies. The characters are always based off people I know (sometimes even for a brief moment.)

3. Favorite authors/actors/directors/comedians?

Hmm, authors. I don’t really have a favorite. I never really seek out a book just because of the author, although I’ve always been drawn to Edgar Allan Poe’s dark mind. Some of my favorite books off the top of my head are written by these authors: Emily Brontë, Margaret Mitchell, Jane Austen, Anne Rice, J.K. Rowling, Colleen McCullough, Lewis Carroll, Khaled Hosseini, and Bryce Courtenay. As far as actors go, Leonardo DiCaprio, Tom Hardy, Russell Crowe, Sean Connery, Angelina Jolie, Emily Blunt, Jennifer Lawrence are some I find inspiring. Directors would be Martin Scorcese, Quentin Tarantino, and Alfred Hitchcock. As for comedians, right off the top of my head would be the cast of The Office. I loved that show. I could watch those people over and over. Parks and Recreation follows the same format so I enjoy everyone on there as well.

4. If you were one of the Middle Sister Wine alter-egos, who would you be?

Well, according to the quiz on their website, I got Smarty Pants.

5. Dream job?

Oh gosh, I love performing different roles and ever since I was a child I wanted to be an actress so I would have to stick with that as a dream job. Or hit it big as a novelist so I could just write and live off of that.

6. Day job?

I work in acquisitions for an independent film distribution company. We scout film festivals and find amazing indie films to bring to audiences.

7. Perfect night in and perfect night out?

Night in would either be making drinks and something new for dinner and watching a movie with my boyfriend, or making drinks and playing some kind of ridiculous game with friends. Night out would be dressing up, hitting up some bars that are unique and with a fun atmosphere, or just drinking at a bonfire. Of course I’d put down that my perfect night in and night out would include alcohol.

8. Three things we can always find on your person (other than a cell phone and wallet).

One would be my silver heart ring my grandmother bought me when I was a teenager visiting the Grand Canyon. I lost it for many years and then found it again and since then I haven’t removed it. I also always carry around in my purse a God’s eye necklace she got from Turkey and always wore a long with a rosary this older Catholic woman I worked with in college gave me. Like my grandmother, she was funny, witty and taught me so many important things. We were good friends. You’re supposed to have two grandmothers and since I never knew one of mine, she felt like my second grandmother. I guess those could count as three because other than that just my body piercings (belly button and cartilage). To this day if I remove either one those holes will close up in less than an hour.

9. Everyone has an alter-ego. Introduce us to yours in three sentences or less.

My alter-ego I try to keep at bay. She can be manipulative, pessimistic, drama causing, vengeful, and always wanting to fight. However, I believe she can be a badass too so at least she has that going for her.

10. What’s the biggest risk you ever took, and did it pay off?

I guess that would have to be moving to California after college. I got a film degree, but you just can’t do much with that in Alabama so I enrolled in some screenwriting classes, packed my car and drove out here. I left my family, friends, job, and probably the guy I was headed to marry. It’s been three years and I could have very well run out of money and moved back by now. Still, I’m here. I’ve met so many wonderful people and done some amazing things, so I guess it did pay off.

Now, as the tradition goes, the next step is to nominate one or two bloggers as well. There were quite a few I wanted to nominate, but hopefully if I get another award (hint, hint) I will be able to include the others. I want to nominate One City at a Time and Imanhau as they both have posts that I enjoyed reading for different reasons and should definitely have their blogs checked out!

Here are your questions:

1. What made you want to start blogging?

2. Why did you choose your blog name?

3. Which one of your birthdays really sticks out in your mind, and why?

4. What is your favorite cartoon character? This could be from comic books, Disney, etc.

5. If you could have a special power granted to you, what would it be?

6. Who would be the one person you would probably have a total “freak out” moment if you met? 

7. What country would you most like to travel to?

8. What is your dream job?

9. What is one interesting or crazy thing most people don’t know about you?

10. What is one of your most prized possessions?


‘Cause I come from the land of lizards

Happy Monday, everyone! (Happy since it’s a holiday. At least for some. I had to be in the office for a meeting.)

I decided to clean my place early this morning and under a few bags of clothes ready to be donated (but sitting there due to my procrastination), what I first thought to be a dried piece of straw, on closer observation, turned out to be this little guy:

ImageHe was still, closed eyes, and just all around pretty pitiful. My heart went out to him. I was sure this lizard had met his demise lying under my pounds of clothing. As I sat there feeling for the poor guy, I began to see his eyes open ever so slightly. That’s when I realized to my delight, he wasn’t dead! He just needed water. So without hesitation I scooped him up and began to give him what he needed.

Image*Ignore my sloppily painted nails. I was too busy saving lives that day.

Sure enough, he began to drink and after he perked up, I brought him outside to a bush and he scurried off. It’s amazing how doing something so small, like saving a lizard’s life, can make you feel so wonderful. Next time you find some tiny creature in need (even if it’s something you might not ever think about helping), give it a try. You’ll be surprised how good you feel afterward.

An island, a forest, or a strange building?

You’ve been kidnapped and given a choice: would you rather be stranded on an island, dropped into an unknown forest, or locked in a strange building?

A strange building just sounds creepy. It makes me think that Jigsaw would come peddling his tricycle around the corner and tell me how I’ve failed as a person. As much as I love forests, they tend to hold dangerous beasts – at least I imagine an unknown forest would. Therefore, I would pick the island. I used to daydream about being stranded on an island. I’ve read several great books about this topic and also seen some good films. I’m sure it wouldn’t be all lying around sipping on coconuts vacation time, but after weighing the options in my head, I think I could survive longer on an island. Sure, a forest has shelter and might possibly be a better place to scavenge for food. I don’t know too much about edible plants so my luck I’d pull an Into the Wild move and eat a poisonous berry. With an island, I imagine I could still scavenge up edibles and also figure out a way to catch and cook some fish. The tough one would be finding water. I can only hope my island includes a jungle with some type of water source, otherwise I better know how to desalinate sea water. If I had to live somewhere permanent, I might lean toward the forest, only because frying in the sun all the time would be disastrous. Since this is about me being kidnapped and dropped off somewhere, I can only hope someone would be looking for me. An island gives me a better chance of being spotted. If I wanted to be rescued.

Plus, I just feel so at peace around water.


How could you not want to be here? (Okay, this is Malibu, California…but still. You get the picture.)

So why should I care about a bad reputation, anyway?

I believe I’m a little late to the game when it comes to the Daily Prompts. I think I’ve spent most of my time on here reading other people’s (ah-mazing!) blogs and trying to figure out all the technical stuff when it comes to setting up my own. I swear, I think I’ve tried out every theme that is offered! Anyway, I like these blog ideas and maybe after starting with er, Day 17, I’ll go back and give them all a try.

As far as reputations go, I think I’ve had quite a few over the years. Some were well deserved, some not so much.


Me (top left, sporting a fanny pack) with my mom and two of my sisters. Maybe the reason I was antisocial is because I was having too much fun looking at bugs, or moss, or whatever it is I’m so interested in.

Me (top left, sporting a fanny pack) with my mom and two of my sisters. Maybe the reason I was antisocial is because I was having too much fun looking at bugs, or moss, or whatever it is I’m so interested in.

The shy, antisocial freakshow: As a child at school I had the reputation for being too quiet. I was a good kid. Hey, I was class president in kindergarten. That was a pretty big deal to me then. I remember rushing home to tell my dad this good news. He was probably thinking, “My child is a nerd.” I had a close family with three sisters and we played together all the time. They were my friends. So when I started to go to school, I just had a hard time socializing. New people=scary. It wasn’t until about 2nd grade when I made my first best friend. She was outgoing and a nonstop chatterbox and just kind of helped me break out of my shell. I adored her. We were in the same class until 4th grade. Once we were separated, I found myself having a hard time making friends again. Let me tell you, 4th grade was a rough year for this kid. Going from my best friend at my side to back on my own was traumatizing for this introvert. It wasn’t until about 5th grade onward when I actually opened up and made groups of friends that I overcame my shyness. I don’t know what I did. I guess I just kind of grew out of it. Or more I just realized there are more people in this world than me and I’m going to have to deal with it.


I’m on a new computer so I don’t have access to photos of me during my middle school years. (Thank God.) So in my place I’ll stick “sad robot” which I came across awhile ago and just thought he was the cutest. He’s close enough to me back then that he makes a pretty good replacement. (The sad part, I was far from a cutie back then.)


The brain: As a preteen I had the reputation of being smart. Which is a good thing. A very good thing. However, the other little hooligans in school made it out like it was a bad thing. I was never one of those “nerdy” kids, but I just kicked ass at all my schoolwork. If there was one thing I could go back and tell my younger self it would probably be to not care what these dumb kids say. It won’t matter in the long run. However, I did care and especially when one of my teachers in 7th grade stopped her introduction in the middle of the first day to call me out and ask me if I was smart. After my awkward “uhhh, how I am I supposed to answer that and why is she asking me this weird question in front of everyone?” stuttering moment, she told me she had to ask because I “look smart.” Thanks teacher. Maybe that was supposed to be a compliment, but it was like painting a huge target right across my back. Which did happen because I remember this group of bratty girls that sat behind me coming down hard on me ever since that day. They constantly whispered about me as they sat behind me, making fun of me. I’d like to note most of these girls either got pregnant, hooked on drugs, or dropped out by the time high school ended. Karma, ladies. At the time though, my young self hated it and I began to make bad grades on purpose. Kind of like Lindsay Lohan in “Mean Girls” except I didn’t do this for Aaron Samuels. I did this because of all the mean girls at school. Stupid, yes. But I was no longer “the smart girl” on the outside. Only on the inside.


Here’s my bad self doing one of my most top notch evil accomplishments…climbing on a store roof in the middle of the night. They don’t call me The Troublemaker for nothing.

Here’s my bad self doing one of my most top notch evil accomplishments…climbing on a store roof in the middle of the night. They don’t call me The Troublemaker for nothing.

The troublemaker: In high school, I didn’t really fit into a certain clique, so I don’t think I had much of a reputation. I was just friends with anyone. By that time though, I guess I was growing out of my awkward dorky phase and I remember guys started to notice, “Hey, this chick is actually alright looking.” In fact, I got a lot of attention as I blossomed in high school. Still, I was use to all my female friends, so I was never good around guys. In fact, I was pretty awkward. About this time though, my mother and I were at odds so I began to get a reputation in my family as being the “angry, bad kid” who was always in trouble. I think out of all of my sisters, I was considered the black sheep. I do have anger issues, somewhat. I’m quick to get mad over little things and when you’re a teenager, it’s notoriously worse. So I was no angel. But in my defense, I also happen to have a very immature mother who got kicks out of making me loose it. She loved to probe me by calling me an “airhead,” “dumb blonde,” and make fun of my lack of skill when it came to first applying make up or trying to dress myself and just trying to fit in. I also had a goody two shoes snitch of a sister who always chimed into every argument on my mother’s side no matter what. I’m sure most of you have been there as an adolescent, so you know what I’m talking about. So as a teenager, where my family was concerned, I was the rebellious troublemaker. Although, let me add that I never tried drugs, smoked, had sex, or got drunk as a teenager. Yet, I was still considered “a bad kid.”


Partying it up in Baton Rouge with one of my best friends (me being on the right). It was Halloween, hence the skanky last minute dark angel/fairy costumes. Just wanted to point out this wasn’t my usual attire.


The party girl turned accomplished student: In college, I think my early reputation might have been a little bit of a partier. (Is that a correct word?) I roomed with a wild child friend from high school who was breaking out of her strict parent’s Christian home and just wanted to be part of everything. (Not the girl pictured above.) I tagged a long to all the fraternity parties and night clubs (which killed my first college relationship – don’t get a boyfriend as soon as you go to college unless you’re serious) and really enjoyed it. From not being a party person in high school, college was a whole new thing to experience. Still, I wasn’t a hardcore partier. The only drug I ever tried was weed. The second half of college I was ready for commitment and began a four year relationship with a great guy. I also had switched from a theater major to a film major (there is a difference) and began to just excel at all my creative projects. I still wasn’t the best at my normal (science, math) classes, mainly because I didn’t care and also my mind was probably still slightly warped from my middle school years. However, in what I was passionate about, I was great. I became known in my film making and writing classes as being gifted and talented. Which felt wonderful. I think it was by the end of college I kind of came to my senses and realized from then on out it doesn’t matter what people think about you. You are who you are. Now if only I had realized that earlier so I could have had a stellar GPA all through school.


I guess I have an okay reputation now. My friend bought me a Jack Skellington hat that night just for being me, so I must be doing something right.


Finally, a reputation that’s me: I think in my family I’m still considered the angry bad emo kid, but now everywhere else I’ve been told I’m one of the brightest, down to earth, funniest people they know and I’m just fine with that reputation. In fact, if I continue in life with that kind of reputation, I’ll be very satisfied.

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;


This reminds me of a time when I was a child and my cousin told me witches were real (which they are, only spelled a little differently). As we crossed through a field, we saw several ravens flying low over us and believing these to be messengers to the witches, we would hide within the tall grass. I miss living a life full of fantasy.


*this beautiful artwork I first discovered on