Archive for September, 2013

unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don’t do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don’t do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

The above is from my favorite part of a poem by Charles Bukowski called “So You Want To Be A Writer” – which is the poem that made me fall in love a start buying volumes of his work. For very obvious reasons, as you can tell from the example.

The reason I’m even sharing this piece in particular, is because it perfectly describes how my writerly brain has been working the past week – which is BETTER THAN EVER.

I’m not saying my brain is as awesome as it was prior to the Mysterious Sickness of Doom aka Sjogren’s Syndrome. But the writer part of my head is alive and well this week. My muse has been poking around, and I’ve almost gotten a plot figured out completely for an entirely new book! WOO! You have no idea how excited I am. This is the Universe jabbing at me with a sharp stick, saying “Hey… Hey, you. Yeah, you there. Get the work. You’ve spent enough time screwing around.”

I hear you. LOUD AND CLEAR.

Which is why I’ve decided to participate in NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) in November.  WOOHOOOO!

Wish me luck, kiddos!

Any who, thought I would share that really quick.


aconstantbattleThere is nothing we can do to stop the progression. We can only monitor the progress and manage the symptoms as best we can to make you comfortable.

I’ve known this. I thought I even came to accept this. But at the follow up, I came to realize my reporting of everything going on became almost a plea with the rheumatologist to just fix it and make it ok, because I don’t want to deal with this every day for the rest of my life.

Yet, she gave me that sad look of “I’m sorry, I can’t help you.” And I know this. I understand this.

I know. I knew it then. I’ve known it for a while.

But for some reason, I left feeling so brokenhearted, so lost. Getting my blood work back Wednesday didn’t help how I felt about it all, either.

There are many, many worse things that I could be going through. I don’t doubt many people are tired of me and everything going on health wise. But you don’t really understand until you’re the one sitting there while a stranger is telling you that you are going to be battling the rest of your life with your own body, and it’s going to dramatically change your life. It’s scary. It’s unreal. It’s certainly a hard concept to take it. You can’t just take some medicines or have a surgery or anything and make it fade into a distant memory. It’s here for the long haul.

People forget too easily that we are all mortal, we all have weaknesses, and we all get scared sometimes. We will all die someday.

And here I sit, an ache still eating through my chest, because I still don’t understand how to cope yet, even though I pretend I do.

There’s hope that with a little less stress on me when my 90 days at work are up, I can give my body a chance to strengthen some, and maybe slow the progression naturally.

not just survive Because I am exhausted all the time. And sore. And miserable. My eyes burn and I feel like I haven’t tasted water in a century, even if I’ve just downed two bottles of water. I’m in this terrifying fog that I get lost in, and I’m scared I’ll forget how to get back out of it. I want my energy back. I don’t want to worry about my organs. I don’t want liver damage when I’ve purposely avoiding drinking alcohol. It isn’t fair. (Yes, I’ve fallen back into the ‘Why me?!’ crap, I’ll be over it soon.)

Truth be told, I want my life back. I want me back. And I’m working at it, I’m getting scraps of myself back. Sometimes it’s vague or fades quickly, but sometimes I get chunks that last longer. Like, I think my writer-ly brain is starting to wake up again. It’s about damn time.

Speaking of – you remember the craft analysis that I was worried about? For my Creative Nonfiction class? Totally got a perfect score on it – 100/100 points. She even wants me to email it to her as a reference for future classes as an example. 😀 But back to the point…

Basically, this is going to be a constant battle, one that I won’t always be willing to fight. I have to, however. Partially because I’m stubborn. Mostly because of the people that need me. So it’s time that I write like a good little writer and try to make something of myself. At least then I’ll feel like I’m worth something again.

Until next time, when we will have a much lighter subject matter-


Tomorrow I have another appointment with my Rheumatologist – a much needed one, at that, seeing as my body has been having a meltdown and I don’t really know what to doautoimmunedisease about it. So sometime tonight I need to write down a list of my issues going on and concerns and all that junk. Fun fun. I shall keep you all posted.

So college is… going. Algebra will probably be the death of me. I have a great buddy system going for most of my classes, but that doesn’t really help the fact that Algebra is evil and hates me.

I do really enjoy my Creative Nonfiction course, however, even though it scares me a little. I think what I find intimidating is that I’m more familiar working with fiction. But I’m learning that it’s actually not all that much different for me to pick up on, and so far I’m doing alright. We’ll see how my craft analysis goes I guess.

Mostly, I am just very, very tired.

I look forward to quitting my job for more than just the chance to get back on track with school and writing. I NEED the rest. I’ve stressed myself and my body far beyond what I should have. Ever.

Anyway, more tomorrow after the appointment!


Where I Write (Number One)

Posted: September 6, 2013 by Angel Young in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

This thought came to me while I was procrastinating studying for my algebra test – would it be interesting to post some places I like to write at? So, here’s the first one: college. Specifically at this spot outside the Fine Arts building. I don’t know why, but there’s something about this place that relaxes me and let’s the creative juices flow. I’ve written an entire rough draft at this table throughout the semesters. Today it is particularly wonderful.


[I need another story, something to get off my chest. My life gets kinda boring, need something that I can confess.]

So, here it goes. I’m starting the countdown to better days – or so I’m hoping. Because I’m sick and tired of crying, of feeling like I’ve wasted time. Sick of everything I’ve given, and everything I’ve given up, for a place that couldn’t care less about myself, my future, or my health.everythingyouwant

It is time that I stop saying “Someday.”

Someday I’ll quit..”

Someday I’ll be a writer..”

Someday I’ll…”

blah blah.

I am THE Angel Young. It may not mean much at the moment, but someday it will.

I’ve lived an insane life. I’ve met some incredible people, and I’ve done some amazing things. To hell with anyone who thinks I can’t do this. If I put my mind to it, I can do anything I want.

A wise old Sicilian witch once told me that even though I still had some horrible obstacles to face, I would survive them to come out stronger, because “the gods smile on me”, and I am meant for greatness.

Here I sit, thinking about the fact I’m sticking to my word – I have less than 90 days of this day job bullshit. I may be off on another adventure in less than 2 months. But more than that – I am making the conscious decision that I am no longer waiting to be a writer. I am a writer. And soon, the world will know my name.

I shall post more later, my lovelies. The words… they call me. ❤