Posts Tagged ‘lyrics’

mypeople

[And since we know that dreams are dead,

and life turns plans up on their head,

I will plan to be a bum,

so I just might become someone.]

Here is yet another project update to let everyone know what’s going on:

Interview: Friday I wrapped up a two part interview about fun things like Sjogren’s, writing, travel, etc. Should be a good read whenever they’re up and ready. I’ll be sure to post a link whenever it’s up.

Writing: Even when it isn’t at the most appropriate time, I am always greatly to my muse for poking around in my brain and making me want to write. The last two days have been like that. I’ve been keeping a pen and note pad in my pocket while I’m at work, because scenes are just playing out in my head for a new story, as well as current projects, and I have to jot them down. I’m also about to start serious revisions on my project, code name BM, that I’ve been working on for publication. Cross all crossable things that this goes well.

Plus, I’m going to enter a nonfiction writing contest. I doubt I will win, but I think trying will be good for me. Get back into that mode of submitting and getting over this recent fear of people reading my work. I used to be confident. Now I’m constantly worried about not being good enough, despite any positive feedback. I need to relax a little.

Art: I made myself do a sketch, just one little sketch, last night. I’m out of practice. I have projects I need to be working on, but I just don’t have much faith in myself and it makes me put things off. I need to let go of that worry and just accept that the only way to improve is to continue practicing.

Photography: I’m so behind on shoots it’s ridiculous, but I’m working on it. Most of the problem is time management related. I’m putting projects together at least, so that’s always good.

 

So, that’s about it for right now. A lot, and yet nothing much. Now, back to the muse.

~Angel

 

plane

“Never say ‘no’ to adventures. Always say ‘yes,’ otherwise you’ll lead a very dull life.”

— Ian Fleming

It’s stirring inside of me again. An overwhelming desire to pack up my bags and load the car, head onto the interstate or go to the airport. I need adventure again. I need to wander the streets of New Orleans, entranced by the music at every corner. I need to let go in Salem, dancing at circle on a sabbat with strangers, lost in the incredible connection of energy. I need Boston, out on the boat surrounded by whales. I need Chicago, listening to James Marsters sing before having dinner at his birthday party. I need Orlando, where I can hop on a ride and take on a new life for a few moments. I need to go. I need to see something other than the middle of nowhere.

 I don’t want to have to fight anymore,
I’m tired.
I don’t want to have to feel anymore,
uninspired.

It helps me with so much when I travel. My body may become physically exhausted, but my mind is clear and stress is relieved for oh-so-long while I’m away from my regular life. I feel like writing and creating and just aiming for the stars. I am reminded I can be more, and it wakes the muse inside my head.

So long my flame, my warmth, my fear, my fight,
The road’s calling again tonight.
Dreaming under street lights,
Maybe I’ll catch a train to Rome,
See the world until I can’t go on,
Then maybe I’ll come traveling home.

But sometimes, other people don’t exactly get that. So, again, I’m faced with people telling me I really need to consider my priorities, and buy a house and settle down, an do all of these things I couldn’t just do even if I wasn’t traveling so much. But the people telling me again and again, like they’re scolding a child, that I need to stay put a while don’t understand. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy in one place. Even if it’s just occasionally going to Orlando or something – I need to get away for a bit to function correctly. It seems that is the best medicine for me. It isn’t that I don’t love the people I have here, or anything. I just need a reset on occasion.

‘Cause when the road takes it’s toll
And these cities come and go
Filled with people I don’t know
You’ll be in my heart
And I’ll dream of where you are tonight.

So I’m going through a balancing act: save save save for adventures, and save save save for responsible adult life. And even though that still isn’t enough, at least I feel comfortable knowing I’m trying to manage what I want from my life, and what everyone else expects.

TooMuchToAsk

Maybe I’ll go it all alone
See the world and make my way back home
Or maybe I’ll keep traveling on

Either way, I will keep going. I will write. I will create. I will venture out into the world. I will find a home somewhere, some way, and I will build the life that fits what I need. But I will not give up or give in. I will continue to occasionally pack a suitcase and go somewhere else, even if it’s just a few days.

And if travel is like love, it is, in the end, mostly because it’s a heightened state of awareness, in which we are mindful, receptive, undimmed by familiarity and ready to be transformed. That is why the best trips, like the best love affairs, never really end.

~Angel

 

“You have the power to choose the way you see life, and the way you experience life. You can take whatever comes, and make something positive out of it.”

I’m trying so incredibly hard lately to not have a meltdown. I can still function under gratuitous amounts of stress, but I can’t deny I’m starting to feel overwhelmed. The weight that gets lifted when I make progress seems to immediately replicate itself in some other way. Obviously, there is work related stress. Everyone has it, and specifically everyone I work with has it. But it’s just a job, and if I can manage to leave the stress of work AT WORK, then I’m fine. Yet constantly something is happening to make that 10+ hour day horrible, and now it’s looking like my workload is going to increase.stresscalories

But there is also the stress of my health, which is a hilarious mess. Reducing stress, as I was medically advised many times to do, is about the only option I have to get my body to attempt to cooperate. I would love less Sjogren’s flares, let me tell you. But not being as capable as I used to be adds more stress. I have so much less energy to accomplish what I need to, which hinders progress, and thus adds to the stress. Not to mention the fury of bad health stuff that has been all of 2014 so far. Hospital bills, test bills, doctor bills, procedure bills… everything. I can’t get out of the bills to save my life. And more are on the way, since I have two appointments April 30th – one new specialist about my ovarian mass/cyst issue, and the other my ENT Oncologist. SO MUCH FUN, RIGHT?! Not an ounce of stress or dread there…

Oh, but the fun doesn’t get to end there. (It never does.)

My Legends of the Knight screening for Muscular Dystrophy isn’t selling as well as I’d hoped, and I have a little over a week to pull off some miracles. But it’s making me bitter and eating at my faith in other people. I know I just need to push harder, and when I feel overwhelmed I should step back and take a deep breath. But it doesn’t change the fact that I’m terrified it will fail when I had my heart set on it. For now, I can only keep pushing forward.

Not to mention, I’m getting more and more frustrated with myself for not progressing any farther in terms of my manuscript and the edits that it needs. I’m obviously growing tired of not getting anywhere and burning out on the day job. Writer Angel and Artsy Angel want my full attention, and they’ve grown tired of Sickly Angel and Day Job Angel. I am a WRITER, dammit.

comeonkid

Let’s not even get into all the things wrong in my personal life. Like a burning desire to have my own place and move forward with my own life. Or trying to fix my car. Or everything.

But at the end of the day, even though I feel like I’m cracking into pieces, I know I have to hold it together and keep trying. This post isn’t about how stressed I am, so much as it is about overcoming said stress.

anewwaytothink

“Choose to live a life of unique greatness, and to give that greatness to your world. In every moment you have the power to choose, so choose the very best.”

I’ve said it a few times: I handle my depression and stress and anxiety without the assistance of any substance. While I agree, we cannot tackle these matters alone, I learned at a young age some of the best advice I had ever been given. At the time, it didn’t seem like good advice whatsoever. In fact, it devastated me and made me feel like no one would help me. But after two failed anti-depressants, I took the time to consider the advice.

What magical words did my doctor give me to completely turn around how I view life? “Learn to deal with it.”

*gasp* WHAT?! That’s so rude! He told a 13 year old coming apart at the seams to just DEAL WITH IT?!

Yeah yeah yeah. I had these thoughts myself. But after time, and some mature thinking, I internalized and reconsidered what this meant, or at least what it could mean for me.

In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: It goes on.” -Robert Frost

I spent my childhood surrounded by friends and family members that used unhealthy coping methods to deal with their problems. I had friends and family, also, that immediately sought out a medication to make them happy, instead of trying to actually make the attempt to change the situations around them or how they react to the onset of depression or anxiety. So, when my world was crumbling, I didn’t start drinking or smoking or using prescribed or illegal drugs. Instead, I taught myself how to deal with everything.

thewoods

“The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,

But I have promises to keep,

And miles to go before I sleep,

And miles to go before I sleep. “

Robert Frost

To be fair, I won’t lie – it was a rocky start. I didn’t just laugh in the face of Depression like it was some harmless beast and expect to get away with it. No, instead, Depression started to tear me apart. There was a long stretch of time in which I couldn’t stop myself from bodily harm as an instant reaction to my triggers – it started small, by biting off chunks of flesh in my mouth or shredding my cuticles or jamming my fingertips into sharp objects. Eventually it led to more aggressive versions of self-harm, and that’s something I don’t enjoy admitting even at this point in my life, because it was an incredibly dark time that I have a hard time accepting. But it happened. I don’t take pride in it or babble about it to every human I know, and it took a lot of time and love to get myself out of it. Eventually, I did overcome the self mutilation and constant self-loathing. And it was all because I finally learned how to cope in healthy ways.

creativity

I would stay after school and work on artwork for a few hours, go home and dive into my writing. Eventually I started to get somewhere in both areas – I had scholarships and college interviews for my art, I went to New York for my writing and was well on my way to getting an agent. I even started getting some publication. After high school, I started getting into photography. That’s still my coping methods: art, words, pictures. If I need to reboot my brain, I surround myself with creation.

“So I stare into this paper instead of sitting at a cubicle, take all the ugly shit inside and try to make it beautiful.”

As I’ve grown, I have found more methods of distracting myself from the overwhelming waves Depression tries to drown me in: video games, exercise, cleaning, etc. I’ve found  girls nights with my closest friends does wonders for my sanity. As does time with my nieces.

“I’m gonna make it through, you’ll see.
I swear I’ll prove you wrong.
You haven’t seen the last of me.
I am way too strong.
It’s not impossible, you’ll see.
You’ve never been inside my head:
Ten billion burning suns and belief in a strength that can raise the dead.”

I’d like to believe I can inspire this in other people. It’s an incredibly difficult thing to do, to overcome your need for a chemical substance of some form to act as your crutch, and I’m sure there are instances that some people simply cannot handle the world without it. But I think there is a problem with over-medicating people, or people seeking out poor coping methods, instead of healthy or productive ones. We’re taught through example of everyone around us that we can treat the symptoms of our sadness with alcohol or drugs or whatever. That’s the real issue: we treat symptoms, not the problem.

I’m not saying cold-turkey stop your medications you’ve been prescribed, either – that can be incredibly dangerous for your health. But maybe work on finding the positive changes you can make, see if those can help you at all, and then talk to your doctor about lowering your dose or coming off entirely. Or, ignore this all entirely. It’s 100% your life to do what you need to do.

Anyway, I thought I’d open up about a bit of my own struggles and how I cope. I’d like to think I could be of some help to someone who needs it. Or at the very least, letting someone else know they aren’t alone.

~Angel

 

BoondockSaintsIt’s no secret that my faaaaaaaavorite movie is The Boondock Saints. I’ve written papers on the techniques used in it for my film class, watched it countless numbers of times, and even have some nifty neato stuff like posters, a canvas print, and a fairly badass lamp. Plus shirts. Etc. You get the idea. This is MY movie.

It also just so happens I’ve gotten to meet the three above individuals (my favorite guys in the movie, too): (from left to right) Sean Patrick Flanery, David Della Rocco, and Norman Reedus. Yes, the very same Norman Reedus that plays Daryl on The Walking Dead. I have hugged the Reedus. He has called me Batman. ALL YOUR JEALOUSY IS UNDERSTANDABLE. lol

BEHOLD THE PICTURE TIME:

1451511_10200315001351295_796098530_nSkylar and I are over-eager and entirely too excited about life.

1380028_10200241281988357_110482258_n

Skylar and my Spider-Vans.

1186206_640702062659389_129511697_nReedus photobomb.

1378870_10200241347549996_1680746604_nI signed David Della Rocco’s table, and this is what he added to it. 😀

1393529_10200241329149536_533857585_nSelfies with Rocco!

Now, a bit of story time for you. Some of you may know that some… shenanigans took place on this adventure. Shenanigans involving myself and Sean Patrick Flanery:

SeanPatrickFlenery

Here’s the story:

Skylar, my mother, and myself took off into Nashville to meet our boys, the first up of the three being Norman Reedus, because we were terrified of Walking Dead stalker girls. While we were waiting,  I eagerly looked around for Norman. Then, something glorious happened. I looked to my left and saw three very familiar faces. I nudged Skylar, who had taken a seat on the floor. “They just walked in,” I whispered. “Seriously, stand up. It’s the boys.”

Skylar jumped up and looked to where I was pointing. Sure enough, there walked Norman Reedus, accompanied by David Della Rocco and Sean Patrick Flanery. My heart was pounding in my chest. This moment made it all worth it, I knew. All of the stress and drama over coming to Nashville, over going on yet another ridiculous trip, was suddenly justified in my mind.

Norman broke away from his pack and walked up to his table, a mass of fans excited behind us cheering at the sight. Skylar and I were shaking while he talked to us before we came up to his table. “I’m going to pass out,” Skylar said. “I can’t believe this is really about to happen – are you seriously staring at Sean Patrick Flanery right now?”

I turned back to Skylar, only slightly embarrassed I had been caught, before returning my attention to Norman Reedus.

I walked up to him first while Skylar tried to compose herself. “Hey, I’m Norman,” he said, shaking my hand.

“I’m Angel,” I said, placing a still shot photo of his character in front of him, followed by a small movie poster.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Angel,” he said. He reached for a sharpie while I reached into my pocket.

“I actually saw you briefly in Chicago, but I didn’t make it up to your table,” I said, sitting a neon green piece of foam shaped like a circle in front of him. “You actually shot me with this.”

To the left, the ammo Skylar was shot with by David Della Rocco. To the right, the ammo Norman Reedus shot me with.

To the left, the ammo Skylar was shot with by David Della Rocco. To the right, the ammo Norman Reedus shot me with.

“Oh yeah! I remember that Nerf gun.” He picked up the ammo off the table. “That’s awesome that you kept it.”

“Not everyone can say Norman Reedus shot them, now I have proof.” We both laughed while he signed my stuff for me. Before I stepped away, he hugged me, and fan girls behind me had a meltdown. I moved out of the way so Skylar could go up to him. She was too nervous to do much other than squeak her name out for him.

“That’s a beautiful name,” he said to her. “I’ve never heard Skylar before.”

When we were walking away, Skylar was shaking. “Norman Reedus just said I had a pretty name.” I patted her on the back and directed her toward Sean Patrick Flanery.

Let me just throw this out there now: I have had a ridiculous crush on this man for more years than I can remember. I didn’t go psycho crazy stalker girl on him or anything, but I could readily admit he was my Hollywood Heartthrob. My heart was ready to explode out of my chest and bounce off the walls from excitement.

When I finally made my way up to him, he shook my hand, and my brain instantly went into ridiculous babble mode. “Hey, I’m Sean.”

“I’m Angel, and this is the greatest moment of my life,” I said. I tried to make it sound a little less creepy by laughing afterwards, but mostly I just tried to keep from staring at his chest.

“Angel, that’s a beautiful name,” he said. “Have you ever heard the song Angel by Jimi Hendrix?”

“I’m not sure,” I said.

“How’re you not sure?” he said, smiling at me.

“Do you realize how many songs have my name in it?” I said. “And how many people show me songs because they have my name in them?”

He laughed and looked down at the photo in front of him. He wrote:sean (1280x1022)

“To Angel:

Angel came down from Heaven yesterday, stayed with me just long enough to rescue me.”

He held the picture up in front of me, “This is the first verse in the song, and my favorite part. It’s a great fucking song. You need to listen to it, alright? Tonight.” I promised him I would. Moments later, we were hugging, and his assistant was taking our picture together, before he generically signed Skylar’s photo.

“He ignored me because he was so focused on you,” Skylar said as we walked up to David Della Rocco.

“I can die happy now,” I said, admiring my picture.

We spent several minutes just talking to David Della Rocco, taking pictures and laughing, before I took Skylar over to wait for Stan Lee. While she stood in her line, I made my way to find my mother, still in the insanity of Norman Reedus fans. By the time she made it out to me, I was eager to see Sean Patrick Flanery again. I grabbed my mother, and toward his table we went.

I’m still sort of lost in the chaos of what happened, because somehow, before I could really grasp what was going on, Sean Patrick Flanery had my phone. That was the only thought I could process at first: Sean Patrick Flanery is using my cellphone. Then it occurred to me what he was saying to me, and who he was calling. “Taylor, right?” he said. “That’s your boyfriend’s name?” I nodded, smiling like the dumbstruck fan girl I was.

Somebody else snagged a photo, not me. I was waaay too busy laughing.

Somebody else snagged a photo, not me. I was waaay too busy laughing.

And then, I could hear him talking to Taylor. On my phone. He was calling my boyfriend, on my phone, and using his Irish accent he used when he played Connor MacManus. With my mother standing beside me, he was yelling at my boyfriend as his character, and saying an embarrassing amount of dirty things he had done and was planning to do with me since my boyfriend let me go off to con alone. Then, he hung up.

Everyone around us was laughing hysterically, and I was blushing brighter than I ever have. Just as Sean moved to hand me my phone back, the screen lit up: Incoming Call. Taylor.

We both dove for the phone, accepting the call in the process, before I finally retrieved my phone and ended the call. “I was going to answer that! It was for me,” Sean said, his grin mischievous. Lost in my girlish crush overload, I finished our conversation up before moving away to call my boyfriend back.

I started out this phone call laughing, still thoroughly entertained by the moment that I just had. But my boyfriend wasn’t as amused, and before I knew it, we were fighting, and my mood was ruined. Somehow, I had reversed the entire purpose of my trip. I went from radiating happiness, to hitting such a low; I only wanted to go back to the hotel.

I perked up long enough that, when I saw the boys a little later for our group photo of myself with Sean, Norman, and David, we all had the chance to joke around about my phone call. The photographer had to get us to settle down, and even moments after we were still goofing off. Sean leaned into my ear before I walked away and said, “I still don’t regret it.”

I told him I didn’t regret it, either.

theboys (1280x935)1375873_10200241607716500_492080940_n

The next day, we stopped by the con to say farewell to our new friends. I was long over my bad mood, and accepted that not everyone could say their boyfriend had a personal issue with Sean Patrick Flanery. I downloaded “Angel” onto my iPod and talked to Sean about how much I adored his recommendation. Finally, we started our drive back to reality.

For six hours, I babbled about my Best Weekend Ever, and kept telling my mother that next time – because there will always be a next time – I would be thinner, and it would be better. These were my boys, and I missed them dearly already. I turned the radio up every time my music shuffled back to “Angel”:

And then she spread her wings high over me. She said she’s gonna come back tomorrow.”

At least I got a fancy new Boondock Saints shirt, which was too small when I bought it, but I’ve been motivated to get skinny since then and it now fits 😉

countmeamongthysaintsWhen I raise my flashing sword, and my hand takes hold on judgment, I will take vengeance upon mine enemies, and I will repay those who hate me. Oh, Lord, raise me to Thy right hand and count me among Thy saints.”

So, there you have it ladies and germs. The trip of crazy wonderful-ness. I wish I could explain it better, but it was one of those You Had To Be There to completely relate lol. Anywho, until next time!

~Angel

 stuck
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to be free.

One of these days, whether it’s in ten minutes or 60 years, I will be dead. This is the natural order of things. We’re born, we live, we die. It’s never a fun thing to anyone involved, but there you have it. I like to believe I will have lived the greatest life to my ability by the time that day comes. So, I’m making a list of things I want to do before I die, and I want to achieve them before I’m 35  –  a fair amount of time, really. I’d like to accomplish them all before then with years to spare for a second list. But we’ll see. Some are very serious things, others are a little… silly to some people. But to me, these are some important things. So hang in there with me.

Seven Things I’d Like to Do Before I’m Dead:

  • Finally become a published author. Not for fame or fortune or anything like that ( I understand how rarely that comes out of writing), but rather because I’d like to think there is something there in my words to help get someone else through a difficult time in their life. Books have served as an escape for me all my life, it’s only fair I return the favor.
  • Buy a drink for David Della Rocco. I could easily add extra shiny things to this: Have a drink with David Della Rocco, Sean Patrick Flanery, and Norman Reedus… in the Boondock Saint in New Orleans. But I’m stretching a lot there. Main point is, I admire David Della Rocco quite a lot, and would love to buy him a drink and just converse with him a while about various things. This is a slightly more impossible dream, but who knows.
  • Finally make it to England and Ireland. There is a huge list of places I want to go. HUGE. But I’ve been wanting a trip to England and Ireland both for forever. So let’s get those taken care of.
  • Feel comfortable in my own skin. I’m tired of feeling like I’m some hideous creature compared to literally everyone else. I want to love myself.
  • Make Sean Patrick Flanery proud of me. That sounds ridiculous to a lot of you, I know. But he really is an inspirational guy to me, and earning his respect would mean a lot. He’s one of my favorite actors and my favorite person I’ve ever met. He’s given me the motivation to take control of my life again, and I want him to realize how serious I am about that. I’m the girl with the Jimi Hendrix song for a name. I was a brief few moments in his life, but he was a huge chunk of mine.
  • Help someone else make their dream come to life. I’m a fan of helping people succeed. If I think you can do it, then you can.
  • Live my life as best I can for those that have passed on before me. Alright, this may be a bit rough to do as a ‘before I’m 35’ thing, and has to work until I’m actually dead. But still. I’ve lost too many good people too soon, and I was to carry on for them and live life as best I can for their sake.

 

There are several other things I could add to this, but these are the ones I’ve narrowed it all down to for now. I can work on these things. I’m 23 and have loads of time. But I have to start now. Because in the end, what I want most is to be happy. But I wasn’t born to live an ordinary life in the middle of nowhere. I was put here to do something more with myself and be something more. So, that’s what I’ll do. I’ll try to update as I take scratch these off my list.

Next post, Nashville. I hope.

~Angel

 

[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. ❤

 

~Angel

“I’ll be dead before the day is gone.”

deadbeforethedayisgone

Taken in my field earlier.

Stress is a happy little erosion eating every single bit of happiness from my life. I lose sight of everything because I can’t get a grip on anything, and before I know it, life is spiraling out of my control. It’s crunch time. I don’t need this right now. And it never fails – one step forward, ten steps back. Get something handled or some good news, only to have it all followed up by a series of bad. No matter how hard I try to keep moving forward, I get kicked in the teeth and knocked on my ass.

I am tired.

After my surprise (and somewhat miserable failure) going away party for Skylar, when I was pulling into my driveway, I stopped in the field and got out of the car. Because I’m stressed, and sick, and exhausted, and honestly.. I’m just not sure what to do anymore.

And there it is. The forest. The field. The sunset. Calling me. Some desperate begging from the earth to just go. Leave. Forget everything and explore.

Obviously, I didn’t run off on some grand adventure. But I did walk around for a few minutes, taking in the quiet and letting myself calm down. I don’t feeling one-hundred percent better, but I’m not having a panic attack at least.

And it’s peaceful in the deep
Cathedral where you cannot breathe
No need to pray, no need to speak
Now I am under all

And it’s breaking over me
A thousand miles down to the sea bed
Found the place to rest my head
Never let me go

I really could use that vacation right now. Is it the 17th yet? Because I’d greatly like to not be Angel for a little while. Oh well. Until later,

~Angel

Each way I turn, I know I’ll always try
To break this circle that’s been placed around me
From time to time, I find I’ve lost some need
That was urgent to myself, I do believe

Life is weird. I say this a lot, actually. Sometimes because my life is being weird, sometimes because the whole world is going insane around me, and sometimes as just a gentle fact. But here it is, staring me dead in the eye, being all weird and whatnot, saying “Behold my grand symphony of destruction and creation.” I’m just supposed to sit back and survive the ride, but I’d like to actually enjoy said ride. Even if it’s crazy. Even if I think I might die with every twist and turn. I need to grit my teeth and hold on and try to enjoy it.

Tonight I think I’ll walk alone
I’ll find my soul as I go home

So, one of my very best friends – Skylar – is about to leave for the army, and it’s eating me up inside. I know she’ll be back. I know it’s for the best, and I’m so proud of her for being so brave and jumping out there int0 this great wide world. But it doesn’t change the ache in my chest, and it certainly doesn’t change how much I’m going to miss her. She leaves the day before Brittaney and I head to Orlando. Then, while we are in Orlando, the anniversary of Eric’s death will roll around. It’s going to be the first time I haven’t spent the 23rd of June at the cemetery, and I’m somewhat terrified. I guess a part of me is worried he’ll be let down. I know I’m worried about how I will handle it when the day actually comes. But I know that if I stayed here, dealing with Skylar leaving, Eric’s anniversary, and the approach of Whitney’s birthday… I couldn’t handle it. Not this year. Not right now. So I need to be away. Fate gave me an opportunity and I took it. Even though there is peace when I’m alone at the graveyard with him, I know that someday I will have to leave the land of the dead and learn to hold myself up as one of the living.

Something that helps me rejoin the land of the living: Going to the zoo with my maniac friends. Hell, adventures with them in general is just.. Yeah ❤

ZOONINJASCREEPSHOW

I failed miserably at finishing my manuscript in time for my self set deadline (well, I wasn’t off by too much until work got in the way), which is why I haven’t posted really for some time. I was trying my hardest to make sure I accomplished that. But, things happen. I’ll get it done. But first, I need to finish my photo shoots with Little Red – aka Skylar – before she leaves.

Plus, I’m learning to deal with the Mysterious Sickness of Doom — erm, my bad — Sjogren’s. But explaining that is a post all it’s own.

“Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important.” — Steve Jobs

Anyway, that’s all for tonight. I shall post more hopefully this week.

~Angel

I use my veins to create the color I paint from
Delve into something ’til my
heart becomes my paint brush

Dream

I’ve mentioned this roughly four trillion times by now, I’m sure – My unspeakable desire to break free of this rut I’m in and be back to my normal life of dream chasing (though you can hardly call me ‘normal’… maybe just back to my old self.) Because I am not a desk job person. I am not an office monkey. To be honest, my work doesn’t make me happy anymore, it doesn’t pertain to my future, and it doesn’t help whatsoever with the Mysterious Sickness of Doom.

So I stare into this paper instead of sitting at a cubicle
Take all ugly shit inside and try to make it beautiful

So, I declare it time to get my ass into gear. For real. Not just hoping I can and against my will it doesn’t work out. No. Not this time. This time, I am giving myself a set amount of time for these revisions, set amount of time to get it to my Beta reader, set amount of time to review it once again. I’m giving myself oh-so-long to work on something different to clear my mind of this story so I can look at it with fresh eyes. But mark my words. I’m getting something accomplished this year. I’m getting my query letters to agents out before 2013 is over with. I’m done waiting. I’m done letting everything else take priority over what I really want out of this life. If the Day Job wants to stand in the way, then… I guess it’ll have to go for now.

Because it is time I get back to Angel Young – the writer. Not Angel Young, the office monkey.

~Angel

Friday was a horrible scary unpleasant day. If you want to get technical, the last two weeks have been a living hell. Between losing Whitney, realizing some pretty bad things about the Mysterious Sickness of Doom, and random other pretty poorly timed news and stress. So, I really needed a night with two of my very best friends: Brittaney and Skylar. I’d be absolutely lost without these two girls.

“And if you’re scared of the future tonight,
we’ll just take it each hour, one at a time.
It’s a pretty good night for a drive,
so dry up those eyes, dry up those eyes.”

And really, I think all three of us needed last night. Skylar is leaving for the military in 106 days (she’s keeping track haha), and Brittaney has just had a lot of stress in general on her. Plus I have to be the party pooper and throw it out there that Hey, something is possibly very wrong with me guys. But we didn’t let that get to us: chinese food, a mini road trip to St Louis for some quick shopping and then a movie, and loads of drive-time fun. Simple, but a beautiful night. It’s the little things in life really that make the best moments.

So thanks, ladies, for the thereapy, shenanigans, and dance parties in my car. For a while, we kept the horrible thoughts out of my head.

crackheadsskylarmarioandluigi2CREEP