Save Yourself

save yourself image

Here’s a little blurb I wrote as apart of a challenge, but I really enjoyed typing it up (“writing” it), and thought why not share it with my peoples? Please read it and leave any thoughts!

 

Have you ever felt as if you’re always running away, or running into situations you can’t seem to get away from fast enough? I always feel that way. I always feel like I’m on the run, on the move, and I get so tired and run down. But I know it’s no use feeling that way, especially when you are the only one in your city who can save it. Slamming a guy here, choking another guy there, throwing a car half a football field away from a small child. All of this to just hide away when it’s all over. I whine incessantly, but I know this is the way it has to be, the safest way for me to coexist with the people who don’t know me, because I’ve seen what happens to those who save others. The one time you let them down they never forget it, and they never forget you for it. It turns into a love-hate relationship, and not one that is back and forth, no. It’s one where half of them love you, and understand, but the other half? You can never make things right again. Never.

I remember a conversation that I was having with…her name doesn’t matter, I just remember her, and I remember our conversation so vividly. “You can’t save everyone. Sometimes, you have to just save the one person that matters most: yourself. Please try to remember that the next time you start getting down on yourself, okay?” I remember just nodding, because I couldn’t stop beating myself up about the incident that changed my life, and a family’s lives forever.

I also remember the family, the rants, the disappointment, the yelling and screaming on top of the cries. I remember the blood soaked pavement, the arm still outstretched as if reaching for a savior. The arm attached to the broken body. When the body hit, it was like watching a mannequin break but the body still held together by…flesh.

“You could’ve caught her, you could’ve saved her!”

“You’re no hero!”

“Fuck you!!”

“If you’re listening out there, where ever you are, you’re no hero,” said the most popular talk show host in the country on her primetime morning show the next day. Her face was a sneer, full on anger searing through the tv screen. Her eyes were glazed with fresh tears, but her hatred was more realer than the tears. “You’re just some person with abilities. Abilities you barely use. And for all these ‘powers’ you possess, you couldn’t be where you were counted the most to be. You. Are. No. Hero. I hope you heard me, and heard me clearly.”

I couldn’t say she was wrong. I couldn’t say she was right, her cameramen and producers, writers, and staff damn sure weren’t going to tell her any different. Who was I to say differently? I listened. I watched her show that day, and I let her words hit me where it meant to. It pierced more than any bullet, it cut more than any knife to me hearing her say those things, seeing the look in her eyes. She wasn’t the main reason I decided they didn’t need me around as much anymore. I made the decision all on my own, all because of that crumpled mass of human flesh that laid on that pavement.

I still helped. Help. I still let the human in me continue doing the best I could with what was given to me through some miracle, or phenomenon. I still enjoyed making sure some old lady wasn’t mugged by some punks, took them down and made sure she got her bag back. I still enjoyed making sure kids weren’t harmed by an accident, and I made sure to steal myself away as well, back into the shadows as soon as my good deed was accomplished. It was all I could do to ensure that I wasn’t on the news or the internet anymore. If the would-be victim wanted to talk, they could, but I didn’t want to stick around for that. I retreated back to my hideout, and I made sure no one knew where I lived. That as well was important to me. I, too, needed a safe haven, and my apartment was it. Far away and on the outskirts of the city where no one who knew me personally would come looking is where I chose to be. It was safer for everyone that way.

Most nights, I drink. I drink to forget, but always end up remembering, crying. I become a lump of wallowing. I do this even when I’ve had a good night, even when someone is no longer being hurt. I make sure they’re safe, but inside I know I’m just going to die a little.

I drank to forget. But she always visits me. She smiles, and I stop crying for a bit. She comforts me with her words. “Hey big guy, what you crying for?”

“I miss you,” I whimper, tears spilling down my chin.

She walks over to me, her smile warming me down to my toes. She touches my shoulder and leans down in front of me, her hand resting on my shoulder, and her other hand casually caressing my hand that held the bottle of Irish whiskey. “I’m always with you, you know that. I haven’t gone anywhere. Remember what I told you?”

I nod. “How can I forget?”

She sighed, pressing her cheek on mine, and she felt so warm, so real. “Even the strong need a break, need a moment. And you feel. You have to remember that you’re human, too, just different. You can’t save everyone. Sometimes, you have to just save the one person that matters most: yourself. Please try to remember that when you’re sitting here, drinking this poison, okay?”

What she said, what I remember her saying, breaks me down. The tears stream down my face, hiccups became uncontrollable. “B-but you m-m-mattered most to me! YOU! And I couldn’t…I-I couldn’t s-s-s-save you!!”

The chair barely held me. She leaned back to look me in my face as her smile began to waver, then vanished completely as blood poured down her face. In complete horror, I pushed away from the vision, bottle falling from my hand as I stood up abruptly. “Amina, AMINA!! NO!” Then off in the distance, I could hear a menacing chorus of laughter. I balled up my fists, rage filling me up more and more with every second that passed. That laugh that kept feeding my hate, fueling my need to keep fighting on the good side as long as I could. That laugh that stole my Amina from me, and the laugh that I was going to find and choke the life out of.

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Bon Voyage, 2017! We won’t miss you!

Free at last, free at last!

We made it through the year. Some of us faring better than others, but here we are nonetheless. I barely made it, and I sincerely mean that. The end of the final week of 2017 brought many, many sick people. Unfortunately, I became one of them, and rung in the New Year Eve with snores and horrid coughs. I didn’t even make it to midnight, that’s how sad it was. Even so, the morning brought me my sense of smell back so I was very happy about that.

I’ve had plenty of rest since being sick since this past Thursday, so I’m feeling a little better. I even woke up in a more positive mood (going from immobile and incapacitated to feeling normal will do that), and had this voice in my head saying, “No more struggling.” It wasn’t ominous. It was more like a promise, as if to say the worst is over and better is arriving. I took that thought and almost let it fade away. I knew I had to keep that going like a mantra though because I truly do need it. 2017 had been an incredibly harsh year for me. I was beginning to think I had done something so horribly wrong that I was just receiving from karma for whatever it was I had done. I knew I didn’t really do anything wrong, except for maybe make a snap decision or two, but other than that I really hadn’t done anything that warranted such a weird year for me. And yet, I can look back and say at least the latter half wasn’t all so bad.

Sure, I struggled, but I also published my first book. That’s one great thing I did! My personal life was pretty golden as well (wasn’t bad at all actually, and still isn’t), my son is still my little maniac whom I love dearly, and my niece is beautiful and healthy! I’m embarking on a new journey of doing what I love without being scared. I have goals I want to achieve, and I’ve learned I can do everything I set myself to doing. It’s me that has to move out of the way and let myself flourish. The ending of 2017 showed me that, and I can carry that all the way through into this new year. I do not have any resolutions, I never really do. I find when I do that, I usually lose the list somewhere, or I don’t take it serious anyway. So instead, I’m going to do what I gotta do without talking too much about it, and just do it. I tend to perform much better that way. I’m dedicated to myself being my best self, and I know it’s coming. For now, I’m going to wish everyone a Happy New Year, best of luck in everything you do, and don’t stop striving! P.S. While you’re here, check out what I HAVE been getting into the latter part of this year with the link here: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/voices-on-the-air/id1319106367?mt=11

and here: https://horror.media/i-have-an-insane-amount-of-zombie-books?_ga=2.52158825.1785160388.1514864189-1493119887.1502177739

 

 

 

 

 

 

First of Many!

Exciting news!!

The excerpts are no longer just excerpts and extensions of the story I’ve been working on for quite some time. It’s now a fully realized ebook!

That’s correct, it is now an ebook. It is published, and I couldn’t be happier. It’s one of my prouder moments in my life, as I didn’t think I’d ever see it through to completion, but here I am. Here we are. A completed piece of work.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to even publish it frankly. I thought I’d just keep it on my laptop, saved, never to be seen – I was wrong. I was braver than I gave myself credit for. I normally don’t share too much, but I felt like I needed to pull up my big girl underwear and make it do what it do! I am so happy that I made that decision on a late night and just pushed. I’m going to continue to see all of my endeavors through. From henceforth, I will no longer hold back out of fear of the unknown. I will push myself to the edge, and just dive.

‘Voices on the Air’ is available on Amazon Kindle, and it’s my baby! I just birthed a book baby! So please have at it, and express your thoughts on this so that I can continue to grow into the author I want to be.

‘Voices on the Air’ Amazon Kindle

When She’s Done, What’s Next?

Well, I’ve done it.

I have done it! I’ve managed to finish a story! In all of my years of being someone who loves to create little stories here and there, I’ve never finished them, ever! I’ve started them, and they’ve sounded amazing, but then they just sort of died. Sad little deaths. I’ve allowed the stories to disappear in my head; characters wiped clean from my mind, their world: gone. I would move on to something else because that’s how I used to work. Very fleeting, barely there. I would be quickly inspired by something else and that’s all it took for me.

I love to imagine characters and build a story about them as much as I can, immediately. I never ease into it, I used to always just dive right in. With this, however, I wanted to try and take my time. And so I did. Two years worth. On and off, like a relationship that was almost not going to make it but now here we are – married.

Melded perfectly and accepting one another in all of glory and dirt. Except, like me, she needs some work. She needs some internal work, so we’re going to fix her up. We’re going to make her better. She’s great right now, but it feels like she can definitely benefit from having some things added or cut. She’s in the process of seeing someone about that right now. I’m going to be there to hold her hand through it out and watch the beauty come shining through. And I’ve made this strange now…

Moving on! I said all of that to say that I managed to do something I didn’t think I knew I could do. But I made it happen and I’ve had some sleepy (yes, sleepy, because I definitely stayed up later than I should have, but I still got some sleep so no sleepless nights just yet caused by writing) nights. Yet it was all worth it though, because now I can breathe easy knowing I did it. I do feel an odd sense of accomplishment because of it. I feel like I can complete anything now, and that’s really good to hear because I’m still in the process of finishing up junior college to obtain my degree! But it makes me feel really good. I feel solid. I’ve made one of my characters come to an actual end of her story, but I intend on making it into a series so she’s not done yet, not for a while. I’m not done, but just the beginning of it is laid down. The foundation is there. I’m going to keep building on it. And I want to take you all along for the ride.

You strive, or you die…

Sounds ominous, but it’s really not.

What I mean by that is in today’s world, we’re all really just surviving. Day to day. Pay check to paycheck. Hand to mouth. It all feels like this cyclic struggle that seems to be encapsulating us and I, for one, really am bored of it. I’m literally sick and tired of being sick and tired, always thinking what can I do to better my situation? Besides get this degree I’ve been slaving over, on top of motherhood, and full-time work, what else can I do? What can EYE do?

You hear the words “multiple streams of income” and think, sounds awesome, I need to get in on that. What can I do to create an opportunity for myself to get in on this many streamed money team? Who do I have to sleep with to get a money tree around here?! The answer is quite simple: yourself.

The answer is also not so simple. This new age is a time for the ultimate hustlers. People with the gift to sell. They can sell you something you probably have bought many times from somewhere else, but because they have this incredible talent to talk your money out of your pockets, to make you feel like you NEED said product in your life, you will part with you greens. Happily, might I add. You will give it up. Easy. Later on you might regret it, but at the moment you can only think ‘Wow, what a bargain!’ and just coast on through life for the next week or so with no worries.

I say all this to say, in this time, we have to do so much more than survive. We have to strive. We have to get in the mindset that we are going to see a better tomorrow, even if we have to struggle today. The struggle is the part that is going to build the character you need. I’m learning this the hard way. The struggle for me is to keep doing things I don’t really enjoy, until I get to the position where I can step back and give myself wholly to what I DO love. I’m doing things the hard way. Never meant to, but I guess in the words of my son, “The world made me this way.”

And with such sweet and strong words, I bid you adieu and goodnight!

Sidenote: feel free to check out my written works on Vocal Media! Thanks in advance!

Vocal Media

 

Awaken

Excerpt One:

“Off in the distance, I swore I could hear bells chiming. I was surrounded by the absence of all color: muted darkness. It smelled damp in this dark space and I knew if I were to try and touch my face, I’d probably poke out an eye. I just did my best to keep my hands outstretched in front of me, to feel for something. Anything. But all I kept getting was air. The air, however, felt so warm, almost tangible, like I could hold the warmth in my hands. I knew that couldn’t be right. I still crept forward in all this bleakness with still the sound of the bell going off. I could hear myself breathing and it was normal. I could hear my heartbeat in the back of my throat. I wasn’t afraid, or so I was trying to convince myself. The sound of the bells didn’t seem to get any closer or farther. It stayed the same. I tried to turn to my right. Nothing. I turned to my left. Nothing still. Everything was as is. For some reason I was unable to speak. I hadn’t tried because I knew it wouldn’t really do anything. It wouldn’t mean anything for me to hear my own voice anyway. I was aware that I needed to pay attention to my surroundings. Even in my dreams (if that’s what this was) I knew better than to give myself away or to immediately panic, but this was almost like a welcomed ease. It was strange. So strange.
Then there, a faint creak. Like a rickety door opening in this…room? I wasn’t sure where I was but all I knew was there was an exit and an entrance and I had to keep my wits about me to find it. And just as soon as I heard the noise, I heard a breathing that wasn’t my own. I tried to keep myself still and to hone in on that breathing. It was calm, like my own. I had to try and keep my ears open for this second person, or at least what I hoped was a second person. I couldn’t tell at that moment but I was praying hard that it was a human. The breathing got louder and louder until it was the only noise to fill my ears. It was so deafeningly loud. I almost wanted to just cover my ears and crouch into a fetal position but I knew it wouldn’t help me. Then a soft touch on my shoulder and I wanted to jump out of my skin, it was so unexpected. A heart attack would have been a welcomed death at that moment. Then I heard a faint buzzing, and it grew to a low growl. I felt the hairs on my arms begin to rise as the sound became louder, like it was right in front of my face.
Almost as soon as the sound became more, I woke up in my plush bed.”

Revelations

It’s been a rollercoaster ride. I feel like I’m still getting my barings and I’m a mother of one rambuctious little kid, I should have more in my life figured out. The main things are figured out, I should say, it’s the minute details that are a bit more difficult.

I’m in the process of creating a short novel (?) and it’s been taking me nearly two years. I’m getting to the tail end of it, and so far it’s going swimmingly. So far. I have been reading it over and over, revising or just plain deleting, making additions, cutting, you name it I was doing it. Even with all this going on, I’m actually going to have to acknowledge that I should be proud of myself for getting it together. For being able to get this thing past a certain number of pages. I haven’t had the great fortune of sharing it with any of my friends, but I have shared it with my close ones; who I know will read it and be honest about it.

Soon I will actually be posting excerpts from said literary work (if I can call it that right now), so that I can have more eyes on it, get some feedback from readers and writers who can help me add to or take away from what I already have. Happy writing!

Do We Have A Purpose?

screen-shot-2014-06-21-at-11.34.56-am.pngI have to step back for a moment and really think about it.

I have to ask myself do I have a purpose? What could it possibly be? Is it something that will just come to me or do I have to go out there and actually find what it is I should be doing?

Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty sure we all have something we love doing, the one thing that you could see yourself doing forever, but what if you’re someone who is good at a lot of things? How can you pick just one thing to focus on? That’s where my problem lies.

I’m really great at communicating (I get nervous of course, but I know how to stop, take a breath, and continue on even when I experience a bit of “word-vomit”), I’m personable, I’m completely relatable, and I know how to connect with people on a personal level. I also am a creative person, that’s how I get excited about a lot of subjects. Anything that I feel is a creative outlet, I’m there. I am also into reading and writing (sounds incredibly cliched but it’s very true; I have a mountain of books and I have a story that I’m currently doing as well), heavily! I try to find new ways to express myself when it comes to writing. Hence why I do try to blog. Where I am somewhat of an extrovert, I do have my introvert moments. I like to stay behind sometimes, and I think that’s what’s keeping me from being even more out there. That’s hurting me but I don’t change it. Maybe I should?

This brings me to purpose and why it is I’m having a bit of a “time” with it. I know what I’m great at, then what I’m good at, and what I’m bad at. I try to focus on my strengths more than anything, but I also understand that I can’t do many things at once (or can I? See? That’s my problem!). I know I have to focus on one thing that I know I can do exceedingly well. The issue I’m having is can I turn that into something I can monetize so that I’m not a miserable Betty. Another thing is quantifying that and putting it into action someway, somehow. Then there is the over-saturation with the main thing I know I love, because now, everyone thinks they’re a guru and knows what they’re doing and talking about.

As of late, however, I have recently decided instead of continuously thinking about it, and talking about it, I should just put action behind it. I’ve been incredibly inspired by getting more into a few social media outlets that have connected me to a whole new source of strength; a renewed vision of what I want. I’m not saying I may have found my purpose, but I’m excited about something and I haven’t been in long time. It still ties into the main thing I really wanted to partake in, but I want to attack it in a different way, and get people really interested in it. The fact that I’m elated about it let’s me know I may be on the right path to finding what it is I want to do for the rest of my life.

NeverEnding Story

Life has been taking some very interesting twists and turns as of late, and ever since I’ve taken space away from my blogs.

I’ve moved (twice), I’ve resigned myself to finishing school (and gaining my Bachelors in BA), and have lost two jobs (due to no fault of the employees’ own). So to say that I’m feeling a little uninspired is not saying much at all.

The ride has been mildly entertaining, although I have definitely been going through a full range of emotions, from sad to angry and depressed to cheerfully optimistic. The only constant that has been a true pillar for me is my son, and that’s probably more than enough, because I can’t ever let myself really fall apart around him, no mater what. I wouldn’t dare let myself get down enough to let him feel the energy around that would affect him in a negative way. I always want him to be happy and to smile, no matter what I’m going through internally. The confusion, however, is slowly taking over.

I am trying to get away from the familiar but a lot pulls me back into the field I know so well. As much as I want to stray and put my energy into something else, something more fulfilling, I am holding myself back. It’s a sad case, but one I am battling all of the time. I’ve been trying to keep going, to keep myself busy and distracted with other work for other people, but it always comes back to what do I want. That’s the question I am continuously asking myself. I am serious need of some real evaluation. I think that would really make me feel more inspired. The industry I love, I feel, is falling down little by little. If I want to continue on this path, I will have to take some risks, and create my own path if I’m going to stick around.

I know one thing for certain, I am going to make sure I always leave room for this outlet.