Wednesday, July 18, 2018

What Would It Take?

Today is a day to breathe and believe.
Our lungs are filled with hope and desperation.
We cling to possibilities and missed opportunities.
Doubt finds us with open arms.
What would it take to jump?

Tomorrow is never what we hoped for.
Occupied space haunts our minds.
Windows crowd the only possible view.
Depersonalizations take ownership without leaving control.
What would it take to leap?

Telling stories as if it happened.
Overly attached to memories that never were.
Water pouring to cleanse and give repentance.
Deep down we know it's fake.
What would it take to rise?

Together we hope for a better world.
What would it take to get there?

One by one we beg for change.
What would it take to enforce it?

Wisdom covers our dreams and ambitions.
What would it take to stand?

Desire can make us love.
What would it take it surrender?

What would it take?


                                                                                           






Monday, July 9, 2018

Raw


Watching the coffee shop buzz like New Orleans during a heat wave, I began to wonder what brought curiously different people to one location. The espresso strong in smell and taste; the room roaring with conversation. To my right, I see a stern woman tutoring a seemingly frustrated scholar. To my left, I witness an elderly couple holding hands while they share a steaming hot latte. In the far corner, computers are lined up in unison like racehorses at the starting line. Personally, I refer to these patrons as “the clickers” because of the sound it makes when they are click, click, click the keys on their high-priced technology. This sound echoes through the coffee shop as does the screaming noise of the espresso machine. The aroma is intoxicatingly raw as the barista passes my table with a vanilla chai. Light jazz music plays in the background making the atmosphere cozy. The more I study the room, the more I see different eyes staring back at me. I'm alone, drinking my overly priced iced coffee. The man by the door talks loudly to a familiar face as he waits for his order. I finish my coffee and order another. "The clickers" are down a few racehorses which lowers the clicking sounds. The music seems louder now. My eyes meet another women like myself. She quickly looks back to her book as if she wasn't watching the room just moments before. Rain begins to sprinkle onto the metal roof. Those outside fill the small square room to max capacity. It feels warm now and the music gives off a busy vibe as it is drowning with people talking over one another. I wait for others to leave; hoping the rain will keep more from participating. It's my favorite spot for coffee that is too strong to drink. The taste burns my mouth. It settles deep into my lips and licking them doesn't matter. The coffee is raw. Raw doesn't always taste delightful. Raw is the thing we hope we will like but we never do. But ordering the same thing in faith that one day will can handle raw. I chock down my caffeine believing that something will grow in me from it. My stomach aches. My eyes widen. It's what we're all here for. The chase. The gut feeling that we are nothing more than our experiences. The elderly couple have left leaving a half-filled cup behind. I guess that's all they need. "They will be back," I think to myself. I question my sanitation as I consider grabbing the remains of their drink. If I drink it, will I gain what they treasure? My thoughts evaporate as the worker cleans the table. "My chance is gone," I whisper. The mellow environment returns into the small space as some leave and some arrive. Two fresh visitors kick back shots of espresso; letting out a large "Ahhh" as they swallow the toxic concoction. You can see it in their eyes as the elements run a dreadful course. They're going to feel alive after this.

Friday, July 6, 2018

The Wings it Takes to Fly

    When I was a young child, 4 years old to be exact, acting was what I thought my destiny would hold. I spent my days dreaming of Broadway openings and Hollywood movie deals. This colorful vision would follow me until high school when I began to picture myself doing anything else. At times, I wished I had followed another path or craved something different. But the idea of making movies drove me in every way possible. With years of experience to pack my resume, I knew I would have a fighting chance to "make it big". There was always something nauseating about being on a movie set. I never felt at home. But... the words flowed like water dripping from a black cloud. My body moved like lighting striking metal. I felt deeply in love with myself as an actress. My art. My heart. What purpose did I play? After each performance, I was left drained without a pulse. I loved acting because I could be anyone else. I could remove my skin and slip into a fresh, polished skeleton. My pulse could be found while the hot lights beamed onto the stage. But every night, I had to melt from the skeleton and replace my skin. What was underneath could no longer be hidden. And there I would fade... drained without a pulse. My depression clung to my veins like a heroin addict. I was in the 4th grade when I first realized that I suffered from severe mental illness. The only moments that I was not overflowing with depression, were the moments that I could play another person. It never was enough. I still had to come home as me. Nothing could change the heavy black smut soaking my life away. The weight was tremendously heavy. The first time I prayed to God to take my life was when I was in the 6th grade. This would be a ritual for many years. With my cat sitting on my chest, as she always did when I would have an anxiety attack late at night; I called out for God to save me. The pain was unbearable. I didn't want to hurt my family, but I wanted to die. When I was four, my dad surprised me with the most amazing gift... my first cat. After months of begging for a kitten, my wishes were coming true. I was completely and totally in love. Over the years, I loved her more than anything in my life. She saved me. She gave me a reason to continue to fight. Emotion Support Animals were not a common thing at this time, but she was absolutely my Emotion Support Animal. Still to this very day, I can feel her silky fur twirling in between my fingers as I cried myself to sleep so many nights.
   Acting gave me wings to cover up the darkness that lived underneath. But it was only a bandage. I was always afraid to remove it fearing that I would unravel. Because of this, I never explored other options for myself. When I turned 20 years old, I had been taking a high dose of medication for depression for a few years and I started to need acting less. I continued to hug it close like a warm security blanket. But slowly I began to remove piece by piece. By doing this, I started to explore what I really wanted. Sitting here today, I am now 25 years old and I still suffer with depression. BUT, it no longer controls my life. My Doctors have described my depression as chronically ill. I am a different person now than the young girl filled with dark pain. Although I have been dignosed with serve depression, I no longer feel it everyday. I know it's there, just waiting in the back ground but I'm okay with that. Over the years, I have worked hard to make piece with my demons. There is light... you just have to hold on. I spent more than 12 years of my life wishing I were dead. Thinking about it now, It's hard to believe that was ever me. Depression is a monster and it can control you in ways you never thought possible.
    Today, I am a HAPPY Pre-Veterinary student that wants to specialize to become an Animal Surgeon and furthermore, I plan to sub specialize to become one of the few Feline Kidney Transplant Surgeons in the United States. I made a promise to myself when I was 16. I promised myself that if I could find a way to survive, that I would never let anything stand in my way ever again. I also promised Tigger that I would repay her in some way. Although I did not become the actor I thought I wanted to be, I became more than that. Once I removed the worn out bandage, I could see that acting was just a cover up because I was scared. My sweet partner, Kelsey gave me the courage to run as fast as I could towards every hope and dream I could catch. I found myself desiring to repay a debt... To my first love. Depression is ugly and harmful. I never thought I would be sitting here on the other side of it. But here I am. It does come back and it moves in waves. My Doctors warned that I would be soaked in it for my entire life. I can't say that they are wrong. But I breathe and carry on.

                                  For anyone reading this that deals with depression... You are not alone.

                                                                             






Monday, June 18, 2018

In Circles

Deep down into the heart of gold, lives the tiny marking of black smut.
Within that forgotten black hole, lies the truth.
Its horrible really. The hate, the empty space, the pain.
I find myself running circles; like many years before.
How deep does the dark go? No one ever really knows.
I always pictured myself dancing. Throwing my head back, arms in the air.... dancing.
Smiling. I was always smiling in this fake vision of myself. Smiling, dancing, living.
Is that what holds the black smut? The heavy truth of what never was. We never get it back.
Death is around each corner and we never get back what is lost.
Pain lives on like an enormous opportunity. What are we suppose to learn from it?
How to be happy? I thought that's what it was.
We'll never get it back. You never do.
Walking like zombies in circles. Always in circles.

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Roller Coasters

I never liked roller coasters. They were dangerous, unpredictable, and foolish.
My head titled back so my eyes could see the stars. That's all I ever wanted.
We began to move...  our feet lifting off the cold grass. I held my breath as I always did.
"I am foolish", I thought to myself. I feared roller coasters,and yet here I was.
My arms floated passed my head. There in that moment, the world was clear. 
We spun around and around. Feeling free and lifeless.

For as long as I can remember. I have floated. 

Wicked Wicked

A witch gave me a crazy pill. That's why I'm insane.
I'm insane because a witch gave me a crazy pill.
Pure as snow, she said. Red as blood, she said. Black as magic, she said.
Around and around her spell went. Over and under her spell went.
That's why I'm insane.
My eyes opened wide. My mouth closed shut. My heart bleeding out.
Running, running, going.
Passing the dead, passing the living.
That space in the middle.
That's why I'm insane.
A witch gave me more. she said so.

Friday, October 28, 2016

Death over Death

You should take my soul
You should take my life

Ignite it
Entertain my faith

I bet most of myself was lost
I'm taking over this body

Take the pain
Entertain my faith

I give you my soul
I give you my life

Ignite it
Entertain my faith


I fought it plenty and it seems empty

Behind both eyes
Seems only flesh is what I have

We were gifted with thought
It's our hearts that make the beat

Death over death
Faith over faith