Uncategorized, Writing and Blogging

Pink Lemonade

My idea of change is, let’s say, daunting. But, it doesn’t have to be. How the heart feels and the head thinks is what becomes.

Like attracts like. The same rule applies to free falling into something more beautifully capturing.

Let change open your eyes. It has the potential to bring new friendships, maintain old relationships, and provide an insight that you never fathomed about your own self.

I speak of this subject so highly because I once doubted my abilities in academics, family, friends, and any other hobbies that might hold my interest. People to me became subjective. Nothing had meaning, nothing held my attention but for a couple of days.

I was scared shitless. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing with my life. I would wake in the morning and felt plugged into some cheap computer to spit out results, facts. But deep down, I knew I didn’t belong there. My entire undergraduate career, volunteer hours, activities, everything was tied up into PT school. I made it through one of the hardest semesters, but everyday my outlook was percolated with external opportunities.

I just felt that it wasn’t in my heart. I reflected back on to what I dreamt of doing everyday and what I loved and wanted to keep challenging myself to do and it was always about psychology. It took me quite some time, but I finally realized my passion was the science of the mind. My fascination became clean and set.

At 22, waist high in debt, but I’ve arrived, and I haven’t looked back.

So don’t be scared, don’t let opinions slow you down, talk you out of your needs and dreams. The two come hand in hand. Where you feel at home, is all that matters at the end of the day.

And when you yourself arrive, you’ll taste sweet pink lemonade on your tongue and feel warm sunshine’s soft breathe on your skin. Life will become sweeter, as it was always meant to be.

Uncategorized, Writing and Blogging

Stone eyes & Stone Lies 

It’s getting worse. 

There you are, beside me driving the Range Rover and looking at me with those brilliant brown eyes. You smile every time I say something clever. And there’s me. Being the clever little girl just to see your happiness spread across your face like the warmth that spreads across my chest. I crave to be the reason you smile. 

It’s pathetic.

You grab my hand and plug in some music,…but I am so distracted by your next move I can’t hear anything at all. Not even your own voice. I am only aware of the ecstasy that has blinded my senses and has taken over my sense of judgement just by being in that car seat with my legs folded Indian style in that moment. And I’m okay with that for now. In that moment I am joy. I am crazy joy because my wish came true. To be with you. 

It’s desperate

There’s me now. I’m sitting Indian style alone in my room with a deserted phone that sits cold and untouched like a plague that is only a reminder of what used to be.

I’m getting sicker.

I’m getting worse.

Uncategorized, Writing and Blogging

Mornings go by fastest 

Fog is rolling in. It’s about 5:30 a.m. The trees and grass are all gently being covered by a dewy blanket, making every crack and crevice look innocent. I’m walking alone through the dense rolling hills, overlooking the valleys here inPennsylvania. There is so much beauty to breathe in. I wish I was covered by this mist, maybe I could be washed free of memories that haunt me from nights before. I found that not only am I happiest when I’m asleep and ignorant of the world, but am also content when the world is asleep and oblivious of me. Like the condensation on the leaves I feel myself becoming more and more invisible as the ‘morning’ goes by. 

Uncategorized, Writing and Blogging


I’m laying on the couch. Tucked under a gray wool blanket, resting my head on an old firm vintage pillow (which is very uncomfortable by the way). And I’m thinking about the men I’ve had in my life and wondering why I feel the need to want them. I have heard a saying before, “Never count the bars of chocolate you’ve eaten, the glasses of wine you’ve drank, or the men you’ve slept with.” But tonight I can’t help but feel powerless. I have been left by all of the ones I have felt deeply for. It makes me crave the urge to leave now before I am left and to hunt for something that is wrong so I find an excuse. That is wrong, but I want my body and spirit to heal. I feel more hate for men now than love. I hate and hate and hate and now I crave the urge to hate fuck them all. To gain power again through hate sex and revenge. To make them fall in love with me then leave them broken hearted. Why do I want to do this? Why can’t I move on? Does this mean I still believe I can change their mind? I feel like I am slowly slipping from this world and into another which I cannot explain. I feel happiest when I think about just being held and accepted by someone like they genuinely care about me. I need someone I can fall apart to. Isn’t it ironic that I don’t want to be tied down but at the same time crave to be cared and loved for? But I won’t allow myself to cry any longer…to feel anything any longer. I am stuck in a place that is bare and desolate. 

Uncategorized, Writing and Blogging


I was suspended in the salty water. Trapped to think about the distasteful memories while I drifted along in the oceans waves. Nothing below me, nothing above me. I was immovable. The only thing that had life in me were my batting dark soiled eyes and my everlasting beating heart. You said you would be there for me. You made me believe that since you were older and wiser, you would never leave me to dry like the salt in the sea I was left to stay on earth while you rose to the sun. 

Uncategorized, Writing and Blogging

So here’s me being open.

The words came out of your mouth like you had painted them with your tongue freely and smoothly across my ears. They were like eels, so beautiful to watch glide across your lips but stung to the touch. I was left burned and shattered by the pain. Like an eel, you kept glissading after attacking your prey. Feeling confident you didn’t even look back to see if your prey had descended. I didn’t, and I won’t. 

Writing and Blogging

Red Kills

My hands were gripped tightly round the Italian leather steering while.  The badass gold and charcoal details in the spanking new Camaro highlighted my blood red cat nails. I was flying. Green and black beneath the scorched wheels blurred past me. I passed through cities in minutes. I had to get there. To see him. To show him the real me. My chocolate brown eyes were fixed on the horizon, I could kill with a single look. My scarlet red lips were matted and bleeding beauty.                                                                      I am a vermilion goddess. 

No one could stand in my way any longer…                        I was out to prove it.