Heavily Caffeinated Ponderings

Strong coffee trails a path of heat from my mouth toward my stomach, a pooling warmth that hugs me from the inside as I fight away the last tendrils of sleep from my tired form.

Too many thoughts behind these sleepy eyes and not enough energy to make sense of them all. They drift along the edge of my consciousness, little dancing lights blinking off and on, becoming like playful fireflies floating within the black.

A strange mood has taken hold, one that had fought to linger before I slipped into my nightly dreamscape. One would think it would have dissipated as the mind traveled the other worlds, yet somehow it remained; waiting patiently for my return. Even now as I proceed with hefty gulps of hot coffee, firing up my internal engines like an old car, I find it rather difficult to dismiss the oddness swirling around me.

Definitely not one of the most pleasant emotions I could experience at four o'clock in the morning.

*takes another deep drink from her Nightmare Before Xmas thermos*

On an interesting note, one that many of you probably find surprising. Well, for those of you who actively partake in reading my blogs (to which I am grateful), as I mentioned previously that I have switched over from being an avid smoker to vaping. Here's the interesting part. Two days ago, I had attempted a single cigarette after not smoking for a week, and only depending on my vape. Reason being, I was on my way with a friend to go buy more vape juice and wondered how my old cigarettes would taste. I had a brand new unopened pack in my bag, and decided to open it. 

I've never been so appalled by a cigarette in my entire existence. It was absolutely vile and my stomach turned. I barely had half before trashing it. I gave the entire pack away without a second thought. It's odd to me how quickly my body switched over and how my sense of smell has seriously amplified, no longer hidden behind a veil of smoke. I already had a very sensitive nose, but now I can smell nearly ten times more. Like Cas from Supernatural talking about when he was human and how much he loved Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. When he tried to take bite after becoming an Angel again, he could taste the particles of the ingredients and it was too much. I can now relate to that (to a degree) when it comes to scents. It's like taking a deep breath for the first time and being overwhelmed with information. I knew this was likely to happen once I gave up smoking, I just had no idea how acute my olfactory glands were.

*chuckles softly, drains her thermos and shuffles in a zombuh like fashion toward the kitchen to get more*

Whatever odd emotion this is that's clung to me since before I fell asleep, I hope it fades as sunlight starts to bleed across a blue/black horizon. It's an unsettling feeling, one that lingers at the back of your mind, causing negative emotions to stir and awaken. Making me pause in my positive outlook and allow doubt to fester into being.

I'll address it, as I'm doing now, but I'll give it no more than that. I understand its presence, as certain events have brought it to the surface. Nothing catastrophic, merely minor things that have already been remedied. I s'pose it was just enough to summon this uncomfortable energy, considering my mind has this knack for dwelling when it shouldn't and causes an inner, downward spiral deep within labyrinth of bad memories.

I'm going to stop it before it gets out of hand and force myself to focus on what's in front me. My mind can be a nasty place if given too much rope to run with. Not only will it become untangled, it'll take me with it. Not something I actively want to deal with.

On a lighter now, I'm up at this ungodly hour so I can wake up properly before heading to work before 7am. Ive always needed at least an hour to myself if I'm going somewhere. Hence why I get up at 4am so I can actually wake up and get ready with time to spare. It helps quell my anxiety, a trait I inherited from my Dad. I hate being late, it triggers it. Rushing does as well. So I'd much rather get up two to three hours early to keep that panic rat from escaping its cage. It's the only way I can safely control that chaotic energy without outside help. Which means I find myself crashing earlier (trying to anyway, I haven't slept very well in quite awhile). A small price to pay but honestly worth it. I'd rather learn how to manage my 'quirks' than depend on a medication that would zombuh-fy me. That's my personal preference, it doesn't work for everyone.

Now the energy has become an anxiousness. Very strange. It's not trying to dig a hole into the locked away chapters of my thoughts like it once was. Hmm, weird. You know what? I'd much rather experience this (not like anxiety, it's more like a feeling I sometimes get when something important happens. Yeah, I'm weird) than become depressed. The lesser of two evils.

Damn, I've babbled quite enough this morning. Now I ingest my magical coffee goodness and prepare myself for work; a job that feels like a second home.

On that note, I hope everyone has a good day. ^_^

-Adieu

Living in a Movie as I Dream

Panic weaved through the darkness like an airborne pathogen. They appeared wide-eyed and pale, breath sporadic as their hearts fluttered like wild hummingbirds trapped in a cage. 

In attempt to calm them, I offered to stay behind, to be the lookout. Their fear was so palpable I could almost taste it as I herded them to a safe room in the house. Within the chaos I felt something wash over me. Whatever it was, it left me feeling numb and quiet. Incredibly still. I knew what had to be done. 

A strange voice filled my thoughts and the words suddenly made everything crystal clear. "Sacrifice the one to save the many."

"Get inside and lock this door!" My voice boomed as the oldest girl, no more than 15, turned and focused on my face. "Do not open this for any reason. Am I understood?"

She nodded frantically as sadness filled her big eyes. I gave her a small, reassuring smile before closing the reinforced door into its frame and waited to hear the several deadbolts lock into place. I closed my eyes and took a steadying breath. Though calm, my heart began to race. It wasn't fear that sped up its rhythm, it was adrenalin. 

Shadows seemed to pulse all around me, devouring the colors from the world and leaving my vision filled with all shades of blues, blacks and greys. Night time colors. A twisted smile pulled at my lips as my vision adjusted and suddenly my surroundings lit up as though moonlight touched everything around me.

This thing preyed on the fear of innocence, hiding within the darkness. Using the thick night to hunt. Depending on the dark to stay out of sight. Thinking it wouldn't be seen; the proverbial boogeyman. Only this time, it targeted the wrong house.

If it only knew...

...here, there be Monsters.

I slid back into the shadows, my soft gray pajama pants making no sound as my barefeet clung to the hardwood floor. Small hands clutched the thick handle of a good old fashioned slugger as I held it close to my chest, my white tank top sticking to my skin as I began to sweat despite the chill in the air. I focused on my breathing, crouched in the darkest corner of the hallway, when the distinct sound of heavy footsteps caught my attention.

The silhouette appeared impossibly tall, a huge shadow with a very visible face. A ghostly mask covered his features as he held a huge butcher knife in his right hand. The sonuvabitch wasn't supposed to exist...and this wasn't Halloween.

I watched as he neared the door where the kids were hiding and decided this had gone on long enough. I stood and took two large steps into the center of the hallway, facing him.

"Hey, ugly!" My voice rang through the house like a penny in a tin can and watched him turn fully in my direction. That horrible Shatner mask an expression as lifeless as the eyes that peered through the sunken holes, seeming to stare off into nothing.

Bringing the wooden bat up like a batter at the plate I gave a disturbing grin and purred, "Wanna play?"

Suddenly everything slowed down and I was no longer connected to my body. As though standing off to the side, watching as two very different forms charged at each other. He brought his blade up to slice into me as I leapt up off the ground and weilded baseball bat like a samurai sword. With a sweeping arc the bat made contact. A horrific wet crack resonated off the walls as of the wood met violently against his face. He fell back but I was on him. 

Nothing was going stop me...

When it was over, the ghostly mask was stained bright red and laid flat, face down on the other side of the hallway. There wasn't much skull left as I stood there with a cracked slugger in my trembling hands, dripping with blood. He'd managed to slice at my arms when he tried to fight back, but they were only superficial cuts. I was too fast.

Can't really defend yourself when your head is being smashed like a hardboiled egg meeting a hammer.

I had made sure he wouldn't get back up, as blood, shattered pieces of teeth, bone and thicker things pooled along the hardwood floor.

Panting, the butcher knife in my back pocket, I took hold of his ankles and began to drag almost 300 pounds of dead weight down the hall and toward the backyard, where the sliding glass door was still open. Blood and sweat poured from my brow and stung my eyes, but I didn't stop. I heaved that lifeless corpse out into the backyard and somehow managed to toss it into a deep fire pit, just big enough to burn a couple of bodies...

I paused just long enough to grab a can of lighter fluid, a book of matches and a large container of salt. In true Supernatural fashion, I dowsed the corpse in salt, drenched it in lighter fluid and lit a match. 

It felt like an eternity had past when the pattering of small feet caught my attention. 

The kids led by the teenager gathered around me, peering into the flames. 

"Don't worry," My rough tone cut the silence like a gunshot, causing a few of the kids to jump at the sound. "He's not coming back." I stated and felt a small hand touch my left wrist. With a quick glance, I noted the young girl in her dark red footy pajamas. The fire illuminated her big amber hazel eyes like living jewels as her wavy black hair shimmered with hints of red and golden light. I couldn't help but smile as she grasped thumb. 

"So we're safe now?" She asked in her tiny voice and I nodded. "Good. Hey, can we make smores?"

I chuckled and went to answer when the teenager spoke. "We cleaned everything up for you." She announced and I blinked impressed eyes at her. "Can we?"

With a shake of my head, I smiled and mused, "sure. Why not?" I looked towards the flames and added, "be a shame to let such a pretty fire go to waste."

"Can they come too?" The little girl motioned the the opposite side of the fire, where the shadows seemed to solidify and take shape. I blinked and was surprised to see that a dozen obsidian nightmares stood across from us, waiting patiently for instruction. "They came when I called for help. They're my friends." The girl said with a bright smile and waved to the Xenos before looking up at me and adding, "pretty please?"

I laughed, "of course they can, babygirl." I replied and looked toward those eyeless faces. "They're my friends, too." 

-*-*-

And woke up.

Crazy, huh? Couldn't get it out of my head until I wrote it all down. I gotta say, I do love how my mind works sometimes. I do have some of the most epic dreams.

My question is, if you found yourself in my place, what would you have done?

*grins behind her Nightmare Before Xmas thermos*

And on that note, I must bid thee anon. I have copious amounts of caffeine to ingest before I start getting ready for work.

-Adieu

Lessons of Broken Yesterdays

Night fell like a skeletal hand of secrets, grasping at the lingering streams of daylight, only to toss them aside to make way for the newborn shadows.

I stood alone in my thoughts as a cold breeze weaved along my still form, nature's attempt at a playful game of tag but my mind was elsewhere. Cars became blurred streams of color, racing by with little to no sound, telling me that I was in a dreamscape. A quiet warning that not everything was what it seemed. Painting echoes of reality that would breathe life into a dull background. 

An energy unlike that of my surroundings caught my attention and I found myself turning toward the source. A terrible shadow pulsed into existence and rose from the earth like a demon emerging from the gates of hell. Most would be consumed with fear as this living nightmare began slinking towards me, a flash of silver dancing along the obsidian of its curved skull as distant moonlight poured down from the heavens. I should have been afraid, but unlike most, a welcoming smile pulled at my lips as I found myself raising my right hand in greeting.

The terror, now no more than a foot away, crouched before me and placed its eyeless face inches from my offered hand; lips closed, serpentine tail relaxed against the broken pavement as it went still before me. 

"Hello, beautiful." I cooed in a gentle tone and ran the palm of my hand along its smooth forehead in greeting, "how's my big girl?"

The creature let out a strange hissing purr and scooted forward, only to bump its head gently against my chest; its clawed hands resting next to my feet as its tail whipped lazily back and forth behind it like a well fed cat. 

It's moments like this in dreams, that I feel safe. A frightening thing such as a Xenomorph having become more of a family member, a welcome monster turned-pet by the inner child within. It is there in that endless universe of possibility that I feel whole. When this reality seems too much, I close my eyes and drift into the arms of unconsciousness where I know I'm home.

Gotta random poetic-prose inspired by twisted dreams only I could love.

*smirks and takes a hefty drink of strong coffee from her Nightmare Before Xmas thermos*

It's a beautiful, chilly autumn day as a large Raven continues its annoying chatter on the phone lines no more than thirty feet ahead of me. I roll my eyes and proceed to take a hefty inhale of my new vape; enjoying the the fog that fills my lungs and billows from my nose and lips. Grateful that I'm finally able to do so, no longer having the desire to light a cigarette. It's been almost a week since my last one, and I don't intend to have another. This is something I've been looking forward to for a very long time. No longer filling my lungs with toxins, nor smelling like a walking ashtray. I feel a sense of relief and accomplishment because of it. Definitely money well spent.

I feel better in general, having landed a job that inables me to not only have the means to do so, but allows me to be myself. I am so very fortunate and grateful to have found work that feels more like a second home. As of right now, I only work three days a week. I intend to snag a second job so I can start to properly work on my Ellie, who I know misses being driven.

As the days draw closer to the holidays, I'm reminded of the recent year of being lost. It is a painful reminder of how quickly things change.

I have been reluctant in admitting that precious items were not only stolen from me, but that a very important piece of my faire garb that I had spent years building, had been sold without my knowledge.

My belt, with my replica gun, alien blade, my pouch and a few personal items I can never replace, that were memorial pieces of people I've lost... Was sold for 20 dollars, simply out of spite. 

My sword, a Jack Sparrow replica my Father used to oil for me, was stolen. 

I am left with only my hats, a small dagger and a few buttons here and there. Everything else will have to be replaced. 

It hurts that I spent years building my belt, memories of Lory in those pieces, taken from me because that... Person, did it to 'teach me a lesson'. The same person who kicked me out of my own apartment, threatened to throw what little I had out onto the street before I even had a chance to move in. 

*let's out a heavy sigh and shakes her head* 

I digress. I'm in a better place now after everything I've experienced since last year around this time. Somehow I'm back in San Pedro. My home by the sea. I have my Eleanore and she's safe. That's all that really matters.

I think, for now...I'll end it here, before I let myself think too long on the betrayal of someone who I had called 'friend'. Someone who I thought better of. Only to learn that I was just a thing to be discarded.

People are never who they say they are.

Be careful of who you allow into your life. Always remember; a genuine face generally comes attached to liars.

And on that note, I think I'll watch a horror movie on my phone via Netflix.

-Anon

Reflection within the falling leaves

The soft singing of feathered creatures fill the cool, overcast sky as a tired form slowly regains energy with every drink of cold coffee. Yet another beautiful fall day as the sun tries in vain to burn through the thick marine layer; a cool blanket of soft grays and muted white. 

The mind is a sea of calm, emotions having finally become still. It seems so strange to not be on constant alert, to not feel a tremble of tension just beneath the surface. Anticipating the next slip, another bad hiccup in a chain of horrible events. It seems an eternity since I was able to be still. Having been so accustomed to being on edge, whether asleep or awake. In the recent past, there were fleeting moments. The calm before the storm. It was always brief and even then, it only masked the anxiety that was growing inside. Knowing the calm was temporary, a glimpse of a healthy emotional state while knowing that soon it would all be washed away by the chaos of stress that would be waiting to suck me back in.

It's odd to say that it has been years since I've felt the peace of stability. The only tension now is the anticapation of my new work schedule. I'm not living with that terrible panic coiling through my thoughts. I don't feel like a leaf at the mercy of the wind anymore.

Yet now, it's strange that with this newfound strength created within the peace of finally beginning anew, my mind is able to go back. It's calmed enough for me to start wandering the inner labrynth of my memory warehouse and I can finally watch old reels of my life on a projector screen in crystal clarity. 

As I watch, the realization of my journey and the events along the way leave me feeling a strange mixture of emotions. I'm able to see that there have been synchronicities, little pathways I stumbled upon that have lead me to where I am now. Decisions that at the time, were based on instinct and as the memories unfold like a map behind my eyes, I see how the lines became interwoven. Due to trusting that inner voice when I was unsure of myself, lost on a black sea consumed by a terrible storm, I see now that it guided me to safe harbors. It brought me home.

I had never imagined finding my way back. Not so soon, I should say. I was in such a broken state that I honestly stopped planning a future for myself. It seemed that my attempts in trying to become a productive human being were constantly squashed. When I'd finally get a foothold, the dismal hope of pulling myself out of the pit, the foothold would give way and I'd slip, landing hard on my ass...back at the bottom all over again. I was getting tired of even trying. The point started to feel futile, as though I had become like sysiphus; compelled to continue fighting when I was doomed to fail.

I knew that if I didn't call out, the madness pooling inside would poison me. It's painful to admit that I was on the verge of planning a permanent exit route. I was tired of failing my loved ones. I was disappointed with myself, feeling as though I had become a burden. That nothing I did was contributing or making people's lives better. I was failing everyone around me and in doing so, failing myself. Now mind you, I never had the chance to properly grieve. I never began to heal. 

I just went on, knowing that I didn't have the luxury to stop when life waits for no one. I had to keep going, no matter how shattered or fragmented I had become on the inside. I lived and breathed behind a mask of my own creation. I became my own lie.

Now, the mask is stripped away and I can see myself when I glance into a mirror. My eyes aren't distant and empty anymore. I see something familiar when I gaze into them. The fear has been replaced with something warm and welcoming. 

Hope.

I'm not 100% back to myself, not yet. I do feel more like the person I was becoming before that terrible illness began to crawl it's way into my Father. Before my world was completely flipped upside down. It's definitely strange to realize that my life and who I am, was turned inside out in early 2013. When things seemed to finally be falling into place for me, when I was starting to plan on venturing out on my own, Dad's health started going down hill.

Even in this new stage I find myself pausing to reflect. Dad was such a powerful and constant presence in my life. Hell, I didn't plan things without finding a way to include him. When I started to mention moving to Oregon, he was a part of that plan. I was not going to leave him behind. I would not abandon him. I guess that explains why I went through hell trying to keep him here even though I knew you can't cheat death.

I will always carry him with me. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think about him. Especially now that I'm living with my Aunt and cousin. His big sister whom he was never close to. Family I accidentally came across in 2013. Never knowing they had been literally in the same city my entire life. A family, blood kin that completely accept me. I've never truly known the joy of cousins or the link you feel when you're with them. A deep bond I had only had with very few blood relatives. 

There's a bit of anger at my Dad for having kept them out of our lives. But it'll pass. There's so much to work through internally and I am beyond grateful that the friends that have been my family for so long and have been there for me through everything, are the reason I didn't take that exit route.

You are why I didn't give up. I can never convey my deepest gratitude to your unwavering love, patience and support. Each and every one of you gave me hope. You still do. Though I have found blood family whom I'm starting to reconnect with, you have been and always will be my family. I am now so incredibly blessed to say that I am surrounded in a sea of angels who give me a reason to keep fighting. 

Life will still have it's ups and downs but I feel as though I've managed to survive the worst of it.

It's now time to feel hopeful again, to see a bright future ahead of me. To actually visualize a better tomorrow. 

And it's because of You. All of You. 

*gives a warm smile*

On that note, time to ingest my caffeine and enjoy my day.

-Onyx

Letting out the poison and Reaching Towards a Better Tomorrow

It's been some time since I've written anything with substance. Or at least, anything that might actually seem interesting or intriguing. Well, this should make up for my absence.

I've obviously been hinting that I've been moving around and trying to get my feet back on terra-firma so that I could start getting my life on track again. The past two years have been a cyclone of emotional ups and downs as well as hardships (as many may have read in previous posts). It's been difficult for me to be open about what it's done to me, mentally and emotionally. I've only glossed over it with the usual details. Staying very black and white, as unemotional as possible. I didn't want anyone to see how damaged I really was. Why? Because I felt that it was my burden. My emotions are mine alone. I've never been one to place blame on another for the way I'm feeling because they don't have any control over how my brain reacts to things. It's a smidge of a tangent but there's a good reason for it. I know that friends will always be concerned about my wellbeing, so when things began to spiral out of control inside my head the last thing I wanted to do was unleash it into the world. Especially when I was so far away from everyone. 

While I was out in the desert, I was incredibly fortunate to have met Debbra and her family. I still consider her as the older sister I never had. She took me in when I had nowhere else to go. She made sure that Ellie and I were safe. Which is why it hurt me so damned much that for some odd reason, I just couldn't land a job while I was living with her. I felt like I was failing her and it ate at me everyday that I couldn't change it. It unfortunately triggered a helplessness that began to claw at my brain. The venom it injected was annoying at first, something I thought I was immune to. Yet over time...it slithered through the barriers and the sickness began taking hold. 

I became agoraphobic and afraid of everything. I started to wonder if my existence was more of a hinderance on others, a burden. The negative thoughts that once lay dormant started to surface and I couldn't get away from them.

[WARNING|| You may not like what you're about read. For those of you who are very sensitive, it may be best to scroll down to the end of this segment. Please know that these are simply thoughts that have lived in my head for either a short time, or a very, very long time. We all go through it. Most are fortunate enough to never notice their existence. Just know that they don't always live at the forefront of my mind.]

'Look at you...pathetic. You're how old and you still haven't graduated High School? Oh sure, you can get your GED... What makes you think you can, huh? Oh, you think studying that GED book is going to make a difference? You're a fuck up. You'll just screw that up too.'

'Happy? Really? You're almost 30 and you're still living at home. You're Father controls everything you do because You Are Weak. You're going to let him treat you like that out of some out-dated form of 'Respect Your Elders'? You're an adult, fucking act like one. Why do you take the abuse? Why haven't you left? Why do you make excuses for him? "He's only mean when he's had too many beers." Did that change? No. You could've been living out on your own, with a good job and finally doing something for yourself but instead, you decided that he 'needed you'. You made your own life harder trying to save someone who couldn't be saved. You deserve to be out on your ass. You break everything you touch. They were right about you. Don't you remember? When you were 8 years old, you'd never be anything? You'd never be good enough. Period. Oh you can sing? 6 years old with a voice just like Ariel? Yeah, you know...there's allot of others that may not have your talent, but they all want the same thing so it's best to never try. Oh so you can Act and actually become the character? Ha, yeah...you're still fat and you need to be concerned with cleaning and cooking.'

'Wow...is this where we are now? You let this happen. You let your Brother down. You always let him down, no wonder he doesn't want you in his life. You failed him by just being born. He's much happier now that he doesn't have to deal with your stupidity.'

'You could've pushed harder. You could've told Dad that he had to back off on his drinking. He did listen when you pushed hard enough. Why didn't try harder? It's your fault. You were his emotional support. You kept him going. You FAILED. Just like everything else. You didn't do enough. You're fucking weak and that's why you ended up where you are.'

'Couldn't take care of Ellie, couldn't take care of your cats, you couldn't get your shit together and not only had to leave your childhood home, but you couldn't help your father... You Failed. You are a failure. You shouldn't exist. You do nothing but bring everyone down. You're a nuisance, a waste. You don't deserve the kindness you receive. How have you earned it? What could you have possibly done to warrant anyone's care? You should be in that box in the front seat of your car, not your Father.'

I know how terrible those are, and that's barely scratching the surface of what goes through my head when I'm in that negative headspace. I wasn't okay. I know many of you are aware of that, and I am honestly trying to be a better person, a healthier person. Because so many wonderful souls believe in me, seeing something I honestly don't see...I want to get better.

Some of you are aware, but I didn't really announce it on Facedesk like I would have in the past. I'm literally a few blocks away from my childhood home; my city by the sea. Just nearby my favorite cliffside park and just a short drive away from the Beautiful USS Battleship Iowa. I felt it wasn't something to celebrate due to the circumstances that led me back here. I was incredibly disappointed in myself for getting to the point I was at the time and thought it would be distasteful to announce that I was home.

Ellie was in allot of pain. I owe Debbra's brother a great deal of gratitude for his selflessness in helping me with my baby. I thought the old carb just needed to be cleaned up...apparently it was shot. I was completely blown away when Ellie was gifted with a brand new four barrel carb. She starts right up now. I will pay him back for his kindness. While on the subject, I am still and always will be grateful to Debbra for helping me when I could've been out on the street and Ellie would've been towed away by the city. This is why it hurt (and obviously still plagues me) that I couldn't find a job because I wanted to give back, I wanted to be helpful and make life easier. 

I had to leave almost overnight not due to Debbra wanting me gone, it was as soon as I got a few gallons in Ellie (gas had been syphoned out of her where I was staying before...) I went to start her and she just died. So I gave her a bath and tried with everything I could not to panic because she had already received a note three days prior that she would be towed if I didn't move her to another spot. Which I did as soon as I received it. But I had to do so very carefully... Her tires, were literally tearing themselves apart and the right ball joint (that broke August of 2014) was also falling apart.

Angels once again, came to the rescue... My Family, the Rabble Rousers. It was a two day process. Got most of my things packed up and had Ellie put on a tow and brought out to my high school best friends' place, headed back to the Homepark, tried to sleep, then early the next morning, aided by an unearthly fog (not a common sight in the desert), got my room packed up, cleaned out, everything put back into storage...said my farewells (which hurt more than I could ever convey) and back onto the road toward my city by the sea.

Once Ellie was here, I thought her battery died because the Tow Truck Driver named Mark (that made me chuckle) had left the key turned which I thought, just drained the battery. We took the battery out the next day, took it up to O'Reilly auto parts to not only charge it for free, but get it tested to see if it was a bad battery or not. Well, we find out...that it wouldn't hold a charge. It was a bad battery. Didn't realize it was from 2011. So like any normal person, I had a severe panic attack (mostly internal) and was trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do when Tony and I drove back out to collect the battery... Little did I know what he and Nicole had planned...

I was in shock when he picked out a new battery that should last Ellie four-five years. I only started crying when we were on our way back. I'm still in shock...

I was able to move her back and forth but noticed the tires were looking worse and worse...

Day before yesterday I was going to move her again, but I noticed something off. She was sitting wrong. 

My heart shattered and my chest tightened. Her tire completely collapsed. I barely slept that night and when I did, I had nightmares. My eyes were swollen the next morning (crying will do that to you) and I decided to make a short film on what I discovered. 

You can view the Video Here

I was devastated...but somehow, my StepDad Douglas completely threw me for a loop. I let Mom and him know what had happened, I was very calm when I talked to them about it. That happens when you've been slammed by so much all at once, you kinda go numb from it.

Here's the kicker. A few hours later I get a phone call from him telling me I have a surprise in my bank account. I literally blinked confusion and checked online while I was speaking to him and couldn't believe it. He had given me $100 so I could get the tires as soon as possible.

So that's where I'm at now... I have enough if all four tires are $25 each. I can't afford new tires yet. Hence why I've been putting in applications literally everyday for a job. I'm willing to take two if I have to. Eleanore is all I have left of my childhood home and my Dad. She means to me, what Baby means to Dean Winchester. She's my Home.

This is the make of the tire;;



And if anyone can help me find a good place with decently priced used tires, near or close to San Pedro, I would be forever grateful.

Eleanore is the one solid thing in my life and I'm not going to give up on her. Dad put so much time, money and love into that old Machine. She's all I have left.

I know she still has problems... Gotta replace her Ball Joints, possibly her U Joints, gotta have the transmission flushed and refilled, an oil change, an alignment, general tune up etc. I know I'm going to need the help of welders because she's 1970 so those parts aren't exactly easily found. Hell...I'm just going to need help in general to get her road worthy again. I'm less concerned about how she looks right now (she's showing her age) because that's all cosmetic, I can focus on that later when I have her running the way she should. She should be purring...not sad and broken.

*wipes the unwanted sheen of tears from her eyes*

For every beautiful soul that has been gracious to me, that has shown kindness, love and support... I can never truly thank you. I mean it. Thank You.

Again, any help would be appreciated.

Alright, time to get my s'more coffee, calm down and get my thoughts in order. I'm trying not to panic.

On that note...

-Adieu

Traveling The Subconscious

Overheated skin begins to calm as cool sea air traces invisible fingers ever so slightly along a tired form while the comedic chattering between a crow and a raven drifts from within the thick branches of an old tree across the street. The world itself is peaceful despite the strange storm that brews within an overactive mind.

Too long have these thoughts not been transferred into words, to pause and understand them; deciphering their collective chaos as a means to see the hidden truths of within. Making sense of the inner turmoil of a battered psyche as one readjusts to once again, starting over. There seems to be a flaw in that statement. Because as I traverse the inner catacombs of my memory warehouse, I realize that what has transpired was not new beginnings. It was a state of limbo. Forced to be held in suspension as the debris of my recent past collapsed into an unknown landscape of shadows and dust. Forced to wait as the air cleared, revealing a leveled playing field, created for countless possibilities as yet to be imagined.

The perception of the self was scewed at best as something much older remained off in the deepest corners of the mind, biding its time until the consciousness finally came to terms with the pain of loss. Watching in silence as I struggled to make some kind of sense of what I had been thrown into. There was no stopping. Not a moment to pause and take a breath as I plunged head first into a sea of confusion and fear. The journey set before me, was not merely my own. I was fighting against time, desperately hoping that my efforts would make a difference, that I could beat the fates. The simple truth of it was that I would never win. No matter how hard you try, how hard you scream defiance into the heavens, your will alone has no power over nature.

You can’t beat Death.

I know now that I became hollowed out from the overwhelming tsunami of grief that sliced through me until I was drowning in feeling. I was numb from it. I pushed forward as what was expected of me but I wasn’t me. The instinct to preserve the living organism and survive overrides all else. I was moving but inside, everything had gone so incredibly still. I lost something in those broken moments of uncertainty. A vital piece of who I used to be…simply shattered and fell away. It had served its purpose and in order to transition into whoever I’m supposed to become, there had to be a sacrifice.

Now as my fingers dance fluidly along these keys, I begin to understand that even though this was the place everything began to spiral downward… Where that painful journey first revealed itself to me…

Somehow, I’ve been brought back. With only a few belongings in bags, and my beautiful Eleanore who is as broken as I am, I’m home again. This was the last place I imagined I’d return to after everything I’ve experienced since I said farewell in early  December of 2013.

I’ve become a true nomad. The only real piece of my home, of my hero, is in my Ellie. Those two incredibly precious objects are all I have left. Yes, I carry my father with me… Literally. His box remains within the unopened white cardboard box that was handed to me when I had to make that final trip to the mortuary. I couldn’t bear the thought of putting that parcel in storage along with everything else. That box isn’t something to be simply hidden away. It will stay with me until I can finally settle somewhere that I know won’t be temporary. Then I can finally give him the goodbye he deserves.

There was no funeral. No gathering of loved ones to say farewell. Just a box…

To say there is a great deal of rage inside me is an understatement. But it will remain precisely where it is, biding its time until the moment presents itself. I’ve never been brash, or ‘guns blazing’. I simply, wait.

It’s odd being here again, my city by the sea. Everything feels so very different yet I know nothing has really changed. I feel like Sam, Pip, Merry and Frodo after they’ve returned home. They had gone through so much in such a short amount of time that when they finally made it back, nothing was the same.

I want to be excited about what the future holds. I want to feel the joy of truly starting fresh, of the untapped possibilities that lie just ahead…

…but I’m afraid. I’m weary and quiet, much like a wounded animal finally being released back into the wild. I can’t quite trust it yet. As though it’s nothing more than another beautiful dream and I’ll be ripped away, only to be thrown back into that nightmare world I couldn’t escape.

It’s been only a week and I’m still coming to terms with the fact that I’m here. Somehow I’ve gone full circle.

I have a few aspirations that keep my mind occupied. Finding work asap, getting Ellie running properly, starting with her tires. Making entertaining videos and growing my YouTube channel. A short and simple list that won’t overwhelm me.

The anxiety was becoming so severe that I was becoming phobic of leaving my own room. I was spiraling out of control and I feel as though the rope was snatched up and slowly, carefully, I was pulled out of that bottomless pit.

I just want to heal. I never had a chance to really let myself. It’s still a process, and it won’t be easy. Hell, I’m honestly still in shock. I even lost faith in myself, in the things I believed in. In my own spirituality as I’ll put it. My own beliefs. I became bitter and numb like a machine with no emotions. I didn’t share that because that is definitely not a person anyone should see.

The strangest thing happened…as soon as I was close to my ocean, feeling the moon kiss my face and hearing the waves crash playfully along a dark shore…something inside shifted. I could Feel the energy again; the voiceless song of nature and the universe only the most primitive part of my mind can hear and understand.

For the first time in what feels like a lifetime, I’m not waking up in a panic. My dreams have been more vibrant, more intense. I’m slowly remembering myself again.

That’s definitely a good thing.

-smiles-

-Adieu

Fragments of Yesterday

Thoughts cut through the fog that's dancing behind my eyes as a terrible ache pulses within a cage of flesh and bone. Trapped inside this prison created from a broken past, I struggle to keep myself away from the hounds of my self hatred; ravenous for a moment of weakness. Wanting nothing more than to devour the last good part of me.

The body itches, desperate for an escape. A small window of release so that this horror living inside me within the guise of tragic anxiety can be set free.

I'm tired of this. I want to crawl beneath the white noise and be at peace. I want to find myself again. The pain of my yesterdays has infected my hope for a better day. Confused and lost, it pulls at my sanity. My lack of control, unable to quell this poison inside, terrifies me.

Honesty bleeds from my fingertips as my lips remain motionless. Echoes of warmth resonate within bloodshot eyes as they fight back unwanted streams of emotion.

To feel the touch, innocent intention, the sacred sin. Bathed in safety, loneliness nothing more than a bad dream... If only.

This twisted mindset is eating away at the shattered fragments of this wounded heart. Forever fighting, struggling and screaming to claw towards the light. A constant battle to remember how it felt to dream, to feel the shimmer of hope resonate this empty shell. To remember what it was to feel love.

Hidden within this poetic-prose is the haunting cry of a broken spirit. An inaudible pleading to be saved from this self-inflicted hell. Try as I may, forcing myself to move forward, to keep going. Lying to myself that I'm okay. Smiling when inside all I want to do is scream until there's not even a whisper left...

Trying so hard to be positive when I'm constantly on edge. It feels exactly the way I did on those sleepless nights when Dad was at his most forgetful and called to me every thirty minutes. That crushing weight of anxiety, body tensing at every sound, unable to get the paranoia to dissipate. It's maddening.

...and lonely.

I keep telling myself 'this too shall pass', and it will... I just, don't want to Feel this anymore. The more I try, the harder I fight to bring myself up, the more I battle myself to keep my chin up... I weaken.

There's something fragile now, a delicate thing that threatens to shatter with every breath I take. I can't live like this. It's too much. No more. I'm tired of this pain eating at me every time I'm alone. Even when I find a distraction and I feel even a fragment of happiness, it's quickly swallowed by this hole growing inside of me.

I'm tired of failing everyone, my attempts at being a decent functioning human being has been nothing but a waste. Feeling as though everything and everyone that gets too close will only be damaged in some way.

I break and stain everything I touch. My mind has become a monster and it thrives on my shattered psyche, crippling me. I want my life back. I need to crawl out of this hole I'm struggling out of. I want better for others. I need to be the person they deserve. The person I should be...

 ...and not the pathetic excuse that failed her Father.

Broken is the silent heart that mourns what can never be.

There is only today and the possibility of tomorrow.

Maybe, it'll be better.

 ...maybe.

 -anon-

Ghostly Echoes Within the Gray

Gray skies greet me as I sit out on the quiet porch, my green Gir snuggie draped around me like a makeshift toga as I drink another cup of strong coffee while enjoying the cool late morning air. It's peaceful here, calm in a sense. I'm trying to draw from it, hoping it'll ease the ache echoing inside my chest.

Don't get me wrong, I do feel better on several levels. I'm not as I was a few days ago, which I think has to do with the fact that I allowed myself to work it out in the open. I knew that keeping that chaotic energy contained would only make it so much worse. I would also like to express my gratitude to those who took a moment out of their lives to read what I had written. To be honest, I never expected to see that post gain so much light. I expected it to fall more or less under the radar; nothing more than a whisper in the dark. I never anticipated so many would be listening.

-gives a small, grateful smile and takes a hefty drink from her Nightmare Before Christmas thermos-

The reason for this ache I mentioned is the result of feeling so very conflicted with mixed emotions when I woke just a few hours ago. The last chapter of my dreams spun my reality off center.

I was home, at the old apartment by the sea...and so was Dad.

Yes, this was my Dad when he was young.

He was healthy again, looking as he did in his mid thirties, early forties. Strong in build, less grey and more of that black hair that complimented his tanned skin and thick mustache. He was wearing a black T-Shirt and dark grey slacks with his flat black Nikes he always wore to work. His glasses appeared clearer, his hazel green eyes bright behind them as he spoke in that calm deep tone that always soothed me.

"I'm home now." He had said to me as he stood at the door to my old bedroom. "I'm better now, so I'm going to make up for the last year and a half. Okay bird?"

I stood there among packed cardboard boxes and felt almost surreal. It was my Hero. The one person who was always there no matter the distance between us. 

"Okay Dad." I replied with an uncertain voice and a smile that was a mixture of pain, shock, relief and hope.

He smiled, "let me go tell your brother." Dad added and turned, walking out of my sight.

I couldn't move. I stayed exactly where I was, mulling over the thoughts in my mind like sudden canon fire blasting holes along the side of an unsuspecting ship. 

For a moment I reveled in the warmth of knowing he was okay and he was back. That the past few horrible years had been nothing but a bad dream. That he was back and he was Dad again. Then the other thoughts hit me. ‘But he died, Erin. You saw him lying there…you knew he was gone. Yeah, I know that…but he’s back now. He’s okay. How am I going to explain to everyone that he’s here when they all know he died? But he made it back. He’s here. Everything’s going to be alright.’

A wave of relief had washed through me that this had all been a bad dream. Somehow, him becoming sick and dying in that VA hospital had never really happened. He’d left for a little while and he returned as the Dad I remembered. All of this pain and hopelessness and soul-consuming agony of loss was over. My world was pushed back into its proper orbit. I didn’t have to feel broken anymore. I didn’t have to fight the tears pooling along my lash line when I thought about how badly I wanted to talk to him and realizing I couldn’t. 

Despite the chaos of my thoughts, I felt hope. The one person I had been the closest with wasn’t actually gone. I was still mulling over how I was going to explain to everyone that even though he died, he was back. That he was here and everything was going to be okay. That my life was going to get better. Everything I had gone through was nothing more than a living nightmare to make me stronger. A learning experience. 

Dad never really left…

I was pulled from that alternate reality by the sound of the fan rotating back and forth in the corner of the room and Amy (the Hairless Rat), taking a drink from her water bottle. Blinking, defused morning sunlight pooled along the floor, having poured in from the cracks between the blinds of the window to my direct right. A groan rumbled past clenched teeth as I stretched and buried my face against the pillow. I had awoken face down against the bed, so my back tensed in protest when I started to move. I felt confused, wondering why I hadn’t woken up in my old room, wondering why I couldn’t feel the crisp moisture of the ocean on the cool breeze dancing into the room. Why I couldn’t smell the hint of Dad’s menthol Kools that used to weave through the cracks of my closed bedroom door, or the sound of the morning news Dad always put on after starting the morning pot of coffee. When had my room been so bright? 

That’s when it hit me and my eyes flew open. A painful spasm swept along every muscle throughout my body, forcing me to get up. Legs draped over the edge of the mattress, I was hunched over with my face in my hands; elbows resting against my thighs to keep me upright. 

I can imagine what kind of emotions reading this will stir in some of you. It was even harder to type out while trying to keep my composure. I had to pause several times, keeping the tears at bay. Kudos to me for being able to get these words out without falling apart. Especially since I’m listening to Pandora Radio and the song, “Say Something” by a Great Big World just started playing through the headphones covering my ears. The one song that reminds me of how hard I fought to keep Dad here, how much I struggled every day, barely sleeping, for weeks at a time. How I would’ve given everything just to have him with me now. 

-trembles as hot trails of emotions dash silently down her cheeks and pool at the edges of her mouth-

Well, that didn’t turn out like I wanted. -chuckles softly and wipes at her face, regaining some of her previous composure-

Why would I dream such a thing? Why the hell would my brain do that to me? I just don’t understand…mostly, I don’t enjoy this horrible sinking feeling deep inside my chest. I suppose the whole grieving process does all kinds of fun things to the psyche when you least expect it. Perhaps it really was Dad giving me a message. Maybe he never really left. Maybe things will get better. Or maybe I’ve finally snapped and am simply doing nothing more than spewing useless noise into the universe.

-shakes her head and empties drains her Nightmare Before Christmas thermos-

Wow, I’ve been writing this for a few hours now. I had to take several breaks in order to keep myself together. For the most part, anyway.

On a different note, Comic Con is happening right now and I’m a’lil bummed I couldn’t go. However, it just gives me more fuel to cosplay as my very own Ellen Ripley hybrid for next year. My main focus won’t be SDCC of course. It’ll just be an added bonus. I’ve been wanting to go to the other cons that I’ve been missing due to working every weekend at faire during April and May for the past few years. I think next year I’ll take a few days off so I can experience cosplaying with my friends. That’s a good 8 or so months away, which will be enough time to get myself in the shape I need to be in so I can honor Ripley properly. Yes, I can easily pass as her daughter, but I’d rather be the shorter, curvier, muscular version then a shorter, slightly chubby version. Especially if I’m going to go about it in my own twisted way… I really want to look the part.

Anyhoo, I’m gunna finish this here blog thingy of doom and drink my third cup of strong coffee. Don’t think I’m gunna play on Agar.io anytime soon, even if I greatly enjoy getting 4th place on the leader board -grins- only to then be eaten by a much bigger cell…assholes…

You can see I’m not as emotionally strung out as I could be. Definitely a good thing, right? I just…I don’t know what to make of what I dreamt. It’s not something I’ll be forgetting anytime soon. Who knows, maybe I’ll end up figuring it out and then I can share it with all of you.

It’s weird…my life sends me some pretty strange messages that always end up making sense a ways down the road. Seriously, it never fails. 

-shrugs- I don’t get it either.

-Adieu

Snow Covered Grizzlies and White Falcons

An ache courses through a tired form as the bladder demands release. With a disgruntled growl trapped somewhere within the depths of a large ribcage, the body begins to move. Feet planted on the ground, I shuffled toward the bathroom. The morning ritual of paying homage to the almighty porcelain gods. Face washed, teeth brushed, I exited that small, entirely too bright of space and made my way into the living room as dreams remain stark and fresh behind my tired eyes.

In the first sequence, I recall being in a house made of glass. Snow fell thick and freezing all around but I was inside where it was safe and warm. Or so I thought. I was waiting for my friend to finally settle in when I realized, there were Grizzlies just on the opposite side of the glass. There was a soft barking inside and I realized a small dog was also there, announcing that he too wasn’t too keen on those Grizzlies checking us out just on the other side. I ran over to the glass doors, which to my dismay, was where the largest of grizzlies was standing outside of. I tensed as it growled, but kept my eyes down. “Don’t make eye contact.” I said softly to myself and felt the lock click over into place. I raised my eyes just enough to notice the large male had decided to camp out a few feet away, head facing to the right, eyes heavy with sleep. I surveyed the others and there were two slightly smaller females about five feet to the right, a little further from the glass, curled up like two lazy cats in the snow. There was a fourth, further to the right, but it’s back was to me so I relaxed a little.

When I turned to see if he’d finally made it, I noticed it was the same familiar face that had graced my dreams before. But he was more solid, more real. His eyes lit up as he smiled at me. 

The dream was cut short by my brain waking me up, having rolled over onto a full bladder. A groan, I got up, went to the bathroom, came back and got back into bed. Melissa Etheridge’s ‘Sleep’ playing softly on my phone, lulling me back to that place I feel safe. I didn’t want to miss him. I felt cheated. I hoped that when I returned he’d be waiting for me. It’s rare, but sometimes I get lucky.

This time when I drifted back into that place beyond consciousness… He was waiting for me.

No longer trapped in that glass house surrounded by thick snow drifts and massive grizzlies, I was in an area that reminded me of old town Pasadena. Desert hills but cool with trees and old buildings. I was near a two story house, mostly brick. It didn’t fit. When I turned down the street, it changed somehow. It went from southern California to somewhere in the Midwest. The air was different, the sky was clearer, the roads hummed with a different kind of echo. I realized I was standing on a street I’ve never been, but it felt familiar somehow.

As I stood there in my confusion, I glanced up toward the telephone line and saw a white dove. I smiled as it peered down at me, but tensed when a very large light golden falcon swooped down, nearly capturing the dove. 

That husky voice interrupted my thoughts and made me turn toward the brick house. “Hey, you made it!” He exclaimed and trotted up to me. It was odd…for a moment, it seemed like he didn’t know what to do with himself. As though he wanted to hug me, but didn’t want to scare me. Instead, he shoved his hands into his jean pockets; his eyes smiling at me.

“Hey you.” I replied with a bashful smile, suddenly feeling just as awkward. “I was just watching the falcon.” 

His brows shot up. “Falcon? Really, where?” he asked and I motioned to the telephone lines to my left which gave him the excuse to not only take a step forward, but to stand directly next to me; his left arm brushing against my shoulder. A smile ghosted my lips at his subtlety but I kept it to myself.

“Oh wow…” I said in soft amazement as I brought my eyes up and the Falcon was suddenly White. “It wasn’t white before.”

His brow furrowed as he looked down at me. “Different bird, maybe?” His question was held in a deep tone that felt like heaven to my ears. Normally, I would’ve blanched with him standing so close, hearing his voice right next to my ear. 

But I was too focused on the anomaly. “I don’t know. I’ve never seen a white Falcon before.” I answered softly and shook my head. It was strange, but I knew there was a message there. Especially when I watched it take off, wings open, and suddenly there were feathers landing near my feet. It left feathers for me. I quickly collected the white feathers and held them close, knowing how important they were. 

In the next scene, we had gone to the front of the house and were just sitting and bullshitting. He seemed more relaxed but still bashful, as if he really wanted to touch me but couldn’t get himself to cross that line. Not yet. I remember we had both gotten up because he had gotten a text and had to make a quick phone call. As he walked away from me, hands in his pockets, he wore the biggest smile and even stopped in his stride to look at me one more time before exiting my sight. At that moment I could hear a voice in my head say, “He really likes you.”

It’s odd how it was over the course of a few days (gotta love how dreams play out. Mine? Just like a damned movie lol) we had spent every day together and I remember on the last day, he mentioned he had something he had to do that evening, something about seeing his family but he’d see me afterward as soon as he was free. I can’t remember the entirety of his attire, but his shirt sticks out the most. A blue and black flannel button down. But the material looked thick; made for cooler weather. 

“I’m glad you get to spend time with your family.” I said with a smile and sat to his left on a bench outside the house. 

He ran a hand through his unruly hair; a nervous tick that made me smile inwardly. “Me too.” He replied and finally gave me his eyes. “I promise to come see you afterward.”

I placed my right hand over his left hand that was resting on his thigh. “I’ll miss your company, but I’m not going anywhere, shuga.” I reassured in a gentle lull of a voice and went to squeeze his hand when he turned his palm up and interlocked his fingers with mine. 

Those eyes searched mine for a moment, as if he wanted to say something else…when he looked down and realized the size difference of our hands. “Oh my god, your hands are so tiny!” He exclaimed and brought my hand up so he could get a better look at it.

I let out a laugh as he put his left hand up and I placed my right hand there, palm to palm. “Yeah, I know.” I chuckled and shook my head.

“It’s just so cute!” He quipped with a laugh and brought our hands back down, but didn’t let go.

“Get going, you handsome dork.” I chimed and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug. 

He held me flush against him, his face buried in the nape of my neck for a moment when he rumbled out, “Promise you’ll be here?”

I nodded and murmured, “Promise.” and kissed his cheek before unraveling myself from his embrace. I leaned back and found myself going tense when he placed those warm hands on either side of my face and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead. I swallowed a lump of anxiety from the back of my throat and  felt myself relax.

He let his hands fall away, held mine one more time while looking deeply into my eyes. It was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity…drowning within the hidden worlds I saw looking back at me. In that moment I realized, I wanted to be there.

Then the moment was over. He was on his feet, one last look in my direction and started his journey down the street.

I watched as a fog pooled down from the heavens and began to devour everything along the street. I watched his figure become nothing more than a fading shadow as that swirling mist engulfed him and took him away.

The fog swallowed me but I wasn’t afraid. I had this smile on my face and a warm feeling resonating inside of me. Even when I was brought into a different dream, and new faces…he was still in my thoughts. It was so strange. I still had the white Falcon feathers in my hands, holding them close to my heart when I looked at them. I knew that I’d see him again. It warmed me to know he felt the same way. For the first time, I had hope again…

-shrugs and shakes her head-

I woke up with a heavy heart, wondering why I keep dreaming of him. But more specifically, why he was in all of my dreams last night. From the moment I fell asleep until I woke up. Well, maybe not the last hour, but I was thinking of him.

I’m a little better than I was yesterday, but I feel kind of off. I think I’m just going to go research the Falcon thing. See what that means. Maybe play some Agar.io again as Ellen Ripley and see if I have the patience to get on the leader boards again. Oddly enough, all I can think about is that damned dream…

I don’t get it.

-Adieu