Archive for April, 2013

Storytelling has always been for me a processskeletalromance of putting on skins; of living lives and dying deaths that belong to somebody else. And the more unlike me I look with these borrowed faces the more interested I am to see the world through their eyes.

So, I’ve been a bit busy sifting through the chaos, as you can tell. Trying to rebuild the blog into something worthy of my little Misfits (because you guys deserve the very best), making a miserable attempt at recovering from this biopsy, and all around making the honest attempt to rebuild my life. My best of friends, the Great and Powerful Brittaney, has been coming over once a week to help me out with some things I’m behind on. Once I can get stabilized, I can focus all attention on writing, artwork, and photography. But, as much as it will disappoint some people to read this, I’m getting to the point I know I need to focus on writing. THAT is my priority, at the end of the day. It’s a Writer’s Life For Me, not  a Photographer or Artist. Those are great. Those will always be a part of me, and always be something I do. Yet, when it comes down to it.. Writing is my main focus. And thus, I must do just that – focus.

This week, I have a lot to get accomplished. I have to get back on my goal of regularly editing and sending chapters to my Beta Reader so this round of revisions will be DONE and I can, ya know, move forward with this project. Fingers crossed, lovelies! I have all sorts of ideas buzzing in this skull of mine, some of which are demanding my attention.

Also, lots of organization is being done, which pretty much boils down to me having a lot of chaos in attempts to NOT have a lot of chaos (wait – what?), not to mention we’re getting a pool (my rheumatologist is thrilled), and I have lots of vacation planning and other lovely stresses. Well, vacation isn’t stressful. WAITING is stressful. Because I’m ready to pack my bags and leave. I’m an adventurer, really. I like to gogogogo. It’s my gypsy soul. But more on that another day.

OH! Annnnd if you lovely Misfits could do me a solid, once my Misadventures of a Misfit page hits 100 ‘likes’ on Facebook, I’ll start working on my contests and whatnot, as well as buttons and making this the OFFICIAL DOT COM of yours truly. Woo!

Anywho, my brain is all excited and ready to work on something productive while I’m feeling alright and before I head to bed.

Drop me some ideas in the comments of what sort of prizes and contests you guys would dig!

~Angel

Advertisements

out of the sickroom and into the white blazing sun

 

hey, you’re not dead, youre
doing good, damned good again,
what’s this talk about tossing it
in?
what you were doing while you
were feeling sick enough
to die,
what you were really doing was just re-
charging your
batteries.
now let everybody get
out of the way,
you’re thundering
down the track again
like a locomotive
hauling 90 thousand
unwritten poems
and they’re all
yours
and you’re pounding along
the rails
sometimes through dark tunnels
but then roaring out again
into the
light!
who the hell said that
you no longer had it in
you?
it was you who said that.
the engineer.
who is now
feeling the fresh surge of
hope and
power
and who is
grinning madly at the
thought of this
wonderful
new
day.

– Charles Bukowski

Just some quick shots from one of my newest shoots with the gorgeous and talented model, Little Red.

IMG_1160 (853x1280)IMG_1209 (853x1280)

IMG_1220 (1280x853)IMG_1245 (1280x853)

~Angel

So, the last I left off with you guys, I had just gone to an awesome Con and met some amaaaaazing people. I had an appointment coming up for the Mysterious Sickness of Doom and was stressing myself into madness. Well, obviously, that time has come and gone. To be honest, I started to write several posts, but I kept stopping myself for whatever reason. So here I sit, debating. Should I write? What should I post? What is too much or too dull or.. I honestly don’t know.

I’ve been sort of lost lately. Stress is eating away at me, corroding what remains of the walls I’ve built around myself. To give you a glimpse of how my brain works:

I keep trying to fill in the voids. Patch the cracks before I split open. That sorta feeling. I gave myself something to work toward, to look forward to (I’ll get to that later), but still.. Still I sit there, eyes tightly shut, losing my marbles over and over. I start to lose track of what’s real and what isn’t. Did they really say that? Did he really do that? Is this happening?

So, I want to write things. I want to draw things. I want to take pictures. I want to get this OUT OF ME before it tears me apart.

But I lose faith in my writing.

I make up excuses to avoid my artwork.

Do shoots I’m paid to do, find myself hating my work even if I like it, then feeling discouraged all over again.

Then I look around my room. Look at these things that make up some part of me. Look at my Batman collection. Admire it. Hate myself for it. I’m stupid for having it. People hate me for it.

People hate me for everything in here. Everything about me. People hate me. My friends hate me. I hate me.

I go back to sitting there, a pen in my hand, a blank page to confess whatever I need to release. And I can’t. I’m scared.

Get online. Obviously every damn post is about me. Obviously, that random girl is talking about my boyfriend, because she would make him happier than I make him. So then I’m thinking about myself. What’s wrong with me? I’m fat. And ugly. And just.. just not right. I’m not right. I shouldn’t eat, because I don’t deserve it.

I don’t deserve anything. Any of it. I don’t deserve life. I’m a terrible daughter. Terrible sister. Terrible friend. Person. Everything. Don’t deserve this breath, don’t deserve the next one.

Here we are again. Blank screen. Need to post. Doctor’s appointment. Need to update. Fibromyalgia, Lupus, more blood work. Phone call. More abnormal tests. Sjogren’s. Ultrasound. Biopsy. I feel sick. What did she say? Feel like I’m dying. Why won’t she just say it – you’re dying. Because I feel like it. Everyone thinks I’m crazy. I shouldn’t whine. I could be worse. I just want to cancel my appointments. I’ll just cancel them all and stay home. No. No, can’t type that. Not tonight.

Delete. Blank screen.

What am I thankful for? Little things. Work on Little Things.

Thankful for my friends. But they hate me. Thankful for my upcoming trip. Best friend doesn’t care doesn’t want to go hates me. Causing problems with everyone. Everyone is going away. Everyone is leaving or dying. Should I be leaving or dying too? Everyone goes away in the end.  I need to keep them safe. Don’t do drugs don’t smoke don’t drink don’t get hurt. But I’m wrong, because I’m always wrong, and because I make a better Villain than Hero. So I piss everyone off because I love them. I’m a terrible friend. That’s why they all go away. I wish I could just go away. How dare they tell me to take care of myself, when they’re trying to hurt themselves? Oh but I’m wrong, you see. Because they NEED that. I’m stupid. I’m so damn stupid.

I can’t do anything right. Why do I even bother?..

 

That is the best description I can give of my thought process lately. I seem to go through this every single day, over and over and over. I get a little crazy. Sometimes, it becomes more than thoughts – sometimes I start going off on people for things they haven’t done.

But I have to keep some very important things in mind: I can do ANYTHING I set my mind to. I am LOVED. I have a bright FUTURE, no matter the past. And I have lost too many loved ones to live anything but the best life possible, in honor of all of them.

Which is what I plan on doing: Living. Time to snap myself out of this rut. I mean SHIT man. I met STAN LEE. Honestly. I do cool stuff on a regular basis 😉

NOW, on to other matters:

I surprised my best friend, Brittaney, with a trip to Orlando this June – gonna hit up Disney and Universal, stay in the ultra fancy Yacht Club at Disney, and just chill and be happy youngsters. The last time I went, I wished Britt was by my side the whole time. So, I had to pull of some amazingness to make it work, but she is definitely going with me. 🙂 I’m counting down the days. Literally. There’s an app for that.

I’ve also been forcing myself to write and draw and take pictures again. For me. To get whatever it is out that I must get out. Because I’m a weirdo, and that’s what we do. Blessed are the weird.

I’m also going to make some SERIOUS changes soon. I don’t wanna give away what exactly, but I will soon enough.

Anyway, that’s enough from me for tonight.

 

~Angel