Something To Talk About...

A dull ache trickles along damaged nerve endings as a crisp breeze whispers passed, fans whirring quietly in the background as they pull fresh spring air from the open window, the surrounding forest watches like ancient sentinels, sunlight muted behind a layer of clouds, promising rain.

Small fingers move as the mind struggles to remember the strange dreams that echo behind tired eyes, sleep still clinging to sore muscles as a fresh cup of hot coffee sits nearby, ready to be consumed as tiny whisps of steam curl above the Nightmare Before Xmas mug.

A small smile curves full lips as music swells within the gaming headset placed over sensitive  ears. Another random playlist, music consisting of classic rock a set of brothers who drove a '67 Chevy Impala would be seen listening to as they drove lone two-lane highways towards another hunt.

-takes a sip of her coffee as Bob Seger's 'Night Moves' finishes and Bad Company's 'Feel Like Makin' Love' begins playing, she glances over the rim of her mug at the list, chuckling softly as Kansas' 'Carry On Wayward Son' is set to play next-

The smile remains on her tired face at the oddness of it, realizing with her high arched brow knitting together curiously that her dreams had also been themed after her favorite show 'Supernatural'. That before she woke up, she remembered receiving a facetime call on her smartphone of non other then the old beloved hunter himself, Bobby Singer. He was reaching out to her on behalf of the Winchesters on a case they were workin' on.

She hasn't dreamt of them in some time. Hell, she hasn't even watched the show in quite awhile for that matter since it switched from Netflix over to Peacock's streaming service. Not that she'd need to, having seen the entire 15 season series Several times up until this point.

She immediately stops as 'Carry On Wayward Son' starts playing, finding herself singing along, a wave of warm nostalgia swimming down her frazzled spine.

But the happy feelings are fleeting as a stab echoes in her lower back where her spine sinks into her pelvis. A soft growl slithers past clenched teeth, annoyed that even in a simple moment where she's not even moving, her body reminds her of just how broken she really is.

A quiet sigh of defeat leaves her as she shakes her head, focusing instead on getting her thoughts to fill the screen before her, actively trying to do what she used to in the past and write as soon as she could once she woke up.

-she reaches over, taking another hefty drink of her coffee, enjoying the way the heat slides down her throat as Bad Company's 'Shooting Star' begins playing and she finds herself swaying despite the pain she's in-

I'm diggin' the theme for today. Like I poetically mentioned earlier, I did dream of Bobby himself, his gruff face peering back at me through the screen of my phone as he adjusted his ballcap. He was annoyed at the boys being reckless and had reached out to me about a case they were about to fumble, knowing I actually listened to the old hunter and had a better grasp on the particular monster Sam and Dean were about to face. He wanted me to head over to them and meet up at the motel they were staying out while too far away from the bunker. I agreed with a laugh, seeing how frustrated the old hunter was.

I honestly miss dreams like that. Where my brain places me in the actual world of the movie or tv show universe I love as an active participant. It's a really nice escape from the hellscape I have to wake up to everyday.

And no, I don't mean life. I mean the broken meatsuit I happen to be occupying currently that doctors are stumped on how to treat. The damaged nerves along my spine is irreversible; they can't do anything about it. Somethin' about an aftereffect of living in survival mode from the age of 6 and on. Living with severe Complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD) has its unwanted perks.

Don't be like me kids. -she smirks and takes another drink of her coffee when she quirks an arched brow as David Bowie's 'As The World Falls Down' spills through her headphones, looks over and notices Aerosmith's 'Angel' is next-

Weird song choice, but okay.

You know, it's nice to just let myself type away again. My brain is calm enough right now from the eventual white noise that will fill it once I'm more awake to be able to sit down and just...let myself ramble on. Not that I really expect anyone to be paying attention to my tiny blip on the interwebs.

That's once of the reasons I started this blog so many years ago. It wasn't to gain attention, it was just so I had my own little outlet that I could share if anyone was curious enough to take a glance at. Sometimes it's nice to read someone else's thoughts/feelings/etc. Like a mini escape from your own chaos, given a small glimpse into how someone's mind works. Since mine is a perpetual hamster wheel forever spinning at high speeds while teetering dangerously sideways, I know someone will be entertained.

It also allows me a look back at how I was feeling that day, what I was going through at the time of sitting down and allowing myself to type away.

-lets out a hearty laugh when Guns N' Roses, 'Paradise City' begins thundering through her ears-

Yeah, definitely love the songs the universe is sendin' my way. They're all on random too. This particular playlist is a bit of an oddball because the songs I was listening to yesterday were none of these, especially before I finally crashed for a few hours.

From previous entries you'll know I've struggled with sleep for years, especially when Dad got sick and he had me up every few hours to every thirty minutes. There were long stretches of time that I was literally surviving on maybe 8 to 6 hours of a sleep in a Week. Yeah, I don't know how the hell I got through that...considering that went on for Months.

-shrugs and takes another drink of from her Nightmare Before Xmas mug, body slowly swaying to the song she loves belting out when no one can hear her-

Another perk of living in a cute fairytale like two-story house surrounded in thick temperate rainforest is that when I do decide to cut loose and really sing, I know the neighbors (which there aren't too many and the ones we do have, are lovely humans) don't mind, or think we're blasting music upstairs where I'm currently hiding. The only ones that actively care, are the local Murder of Crows that swing by, checking in on me through the windows while perched in the nearby branches of ancient trees. It's nice.

-stops mid type when AC/DC's 'Back In Black' starts playing and grows a ridiculously bright smile-

This is fuckin' awesome -chuckles softly and shakes her head- I really needed this today.

-pauses to take a look at how much she's actually written- Wow, I've really just let myself ramble away, haven't I? Heh...guess I missed this.

Well my luvlies, I think this is where I'm gunna call for today. My coffee is almost gone and there's more downstairs in the stainless steel 8 cup camping percolator (cowboy coffee is the BEST coffee honestly) waiting for me on the stove that needs my attention.

Thanks for hangin' out with me :) -pauses one last time as Bonnie Raitt's 'Something To Talk About' starts playing through her gaming headset-

On that note, anon.

-Adieu