Watching the OA, wondering if they’re really angels.

And I can’t help but wonder if my mom is an angel. I can feel it. I can feel that energy.. If I concentrate hard enough.

Then I realize..

It doesn’t matter IF my mom is actually an angel. Because she’s MY Angel. She’s an angel in my heart.


Is he telling himself this, or does he truly believe it?

I wanted a place where I could put all my doubts and fears and figure them out, so here it goes. My fiancee has a penchant for helping people… He has a beautiful, giving heart. I saw him help my sister and cousel her when she wouldn’t open up to me. But when I saw him start to exhibit the same kind of effort into a close female friend of both of ours, I got very jealous. In fact, I overreacted so much, I wondered if our relationship was over… the love of my life.

I know shes been texting him every day. He never hides these texts and in fact always shares them with me. And eventually I expressed to him that I didn’t like how wrapped up he seemed with her.

He’s not an artist like I am, which is difficult for me because even though he’s a romantic through and through, he doesn’t always express his feelings enough to me. So these texts he sent me are a big deal. IMG_2698

I keep having to tell myself, its me that he drives two hours a day to see. Its me that he wants to spend his life with, have babies with. Its me he calls and talks to sometimes ten hours a day and that he spoils when I go away on trips with loads of presents when I come back. Its my every word that he hangs on… not hers.

And he’s always been brutally honest with me.

But did he send me this to prove it to himself that our connection is stronger than theirs? Or because he really felt it?

Or am I overreacting completely?

… Am I horrible person for questioning him when I really don’t need to?


There are traces of you

all over this damned beautiful apartment

that I love

A dark, liquid ring of brown on the window sill

coffee stains that make me

Want to smile and cry

You’re not here,

but you’re here

And I love you so much that it brings me down.


I Sleep

I sleep to dream

Of a life besides this

I sleep to dream of that place with you

I sleep to dream of anything but this

I sleep to dream

I ache for it all day

Alone I can wistfully hallucinate

I know I could be beautiful

I could be brave

But I wont, not today

Instead I’ll dream in

this wonderful place

My dreams are like drugs

My dreams are my high

My dreams are the place that life doesn’t rush by

My dreams are where I do all the things I don’t in real life

And when I feel panicked or scared, it doesn’t last long

Or that’s what it feels like

I just slip peacefully back

Into my dream

Journal Entries

What would you do without screens for one day? Side note; Shitty caffeine side effects.

I feel as if I spend an insurmountable amount of time looking at screens; phone, TV, and laptop included. I’m constantly putting reminders and notes in my phone and laptop every five minutes, and if it’s not that I’m on the phone getting directions somewhere or talking to my best friend while walking my dog or on my way to the gym, where I plug in my headphones and listen to music while I run, or I’m relaxing or bonding with my family by watching movies or my favorite show before I pass out in my comfy bed.

It’s almost mentally exhausting just thinking about how much time I spend on these things. But worst of all, the amount of hours my eyes is absorbed in some sort of screen. Is that really so bad?

I thought about camp in the fifth grade- Camp Grady Spruce. Somewhere in the middle of nowhere in Texas. In a log cabin on the beach/lake. No television, no phones, no computers. Screen-detox.

Could I survive that today?

On another note, I am going through some major crap right now. I have an infection that the doctor is treating with shitty antibiotics that make me drowsy as fuck, and my mom asked me to come with her to lunch today. My mom is sickly with Colon cancer so anything she asks for is hers! Although I had slept like a log for 10 hours, I still had black out spells upon getting up.

We were at Corner Bakery. The one espresso I ordered was actually two shots, the manager informed me when he brought it.

“You’re going to have the jitters,” he declared as he walked away. “Heh, that’s what you think,” I thought to myself, feeling drowsy.

My mom asked me in an offhanded tone, “What made you order the espresso?” I explained to her that I often crave a cup of hot, black coffee and a sweet/pastry. This is true.

Without realizing it (half asleep), I also consumed another 8 oz. of very strong coffee. When I came home I felt sick, so I had two cups of green tea.

It all kicked in at once.

For the past two hours, I’ve been losing my mind. Or slowly over the past five hours…

(I had almost nervous break, I even lashed out at my boyfriend, became exceedingly paranoid about my health and considered going to emergency, felt utterly, drastically suicidal (like jumping off a bridge), God the list goes on (and totally unlike me))

The infection is in my stomach so I can’t do much exercise without hurting, aside from some light walking. My hands are shaking now. I’ve been walking around the house and I went for a long walk with my mom. I’ve tried to flush it out and peed 205 times… still shaking. I’ve chanted to myself, counted my deep breaths, laid down in complete darkness.

As a last resort, I am drinking two strong cups of Sleepytime Extra.

Caffeine is a narcotic that should not be consumed.

Agreed? Agreed.

positive thoughts

I’ve always been obsessed with rituals…

I’ve always been obsessed with rituals. I realize it’s because in a daily ritual I find I’m able to center myself and find peace. I take my post-shower rituals most seriously, like rubbing cream in my skin, etc. I can’t NOT do it— I take comfort in these mindless tasks, where I”m not thinking about anything particularly, just immersed in the action. This is especially important in the morning, which, depending on your situation (three small kids?), can be crazy time. But when I have my morning cup of coffee and light a pretty white candle with three wicks (my lucky writing candle), I savor that moment of peace, of silence, when the world around me is not in overload. I immerse myself every sip, the bitter, crisp taste— I am basically living in the present in that moment.

So what if I could do that all the time? Would I be a better writer?


Thought-overload can really be the writer’s worst enemy… or their best friend.

A fellow writer and friend of mine enjoys a walk to her favourite coffee shop for a cup and a pastry each morning, down the street from her NYC apartment, her spiral and pen in hand.

What about you? Do you have a daily ritual? Do you maybe forget to do it sometimes and just feel… off?