The Alternatives

It's been a long ass time. Hello, there, we meet again. I've been in my head for the longest of times, I felt I was losing it. As some of you may have noticed, or at least those who read, I posted what was supposed to be the beginning of this awesome story called Stockholm Syndrome . The plan was to make it up as I go, as a challenge to myself as to whether or not I could finish something on time. Giving myself a deadline. As it turns out, I suck at that shit. Big fucking time. I've only written about eight pages of that story. And I got another one in the works, but that one seems to be going a heck of a lot more smoother than Stockholm. Which raised the question, how bad do I want it? How much of a writer do I really want to be? My actions aren't justifying. Or satisfactory. Am I just here? It really sucks. But Rome wasn't built in a day. So, there's still hope, I think. And then I asked myself, is writing what I really see myself doin

        Karen had the perfect life. She was married to her high school sweetheart. She was the executive assistant to Marc Sant’ Andrea, the up and coming fashion designer for Hollywood celebrities. Jason, her husband, was the principal for Doubleday Preparatory, an all-girls private school, and the head coach for the fifth grade volleyball team.  They were the sweetest and most loving couple, or so they were told, repeatedly by friends and strangers alike. Karen thought she had it all alongside Jason. They had traveled all over the world, but when it came to having children, they both found out they were both infertile.  But that didn’t stop them. They planned to adopt. It was no big deal. She loved Jason and he loved her. She never thought that this would be her life.  But yet, Karen longed for more.  Much more. Karen walked into the boutique. Marc would send her to do monthly check-ins to the four shops he had in California and the six he had in Europe.  Today, she happ

Wow. Hi, strangers. This is so weird. So, It's gotten to the point where I can't think of a damn thing to do without my husband by my side. He happened to go out with a friend tonight, while I attended my brother's banquet. He took longer than expected, and I happen to finish early. It was bound to happen. But, now I find myself alone in a bar. And, it feels...odd. I don't think I've ever been alone...anywhere. How do I entertain myself?? At this particular bar, I happen to be surrounded by strangers, but obviously, I feel alone. Like, my partner in crime is missing. How do I deal with this? I guess, I have to get used to the idea that sometimes I will be alone. I've gotten so used to him. We do basically everything together. Shop, eat, drink... except tonight. Also, it is very weird to be at a bar alone, staring at my phone THE WHOLE TIME!!!!! Like, millenials.... But all jokes aside, this is just me begging for someone to come join me. Sto

Nightmare As quick as it went down, the rage went back up and I threw another shot glass against the wall. Lily whimpered then, and as soon as it left her white snout, I threw myself at her and apologized, “I’m so sorry, girl, Meli did it,” I bent down and picked up the shards, careful of Lily, “Promise me, Lily, you’ll never be dumb like daddy and fall in love, it hurts. It really does,” I turned and looked Lily, who sat at the entrance, watching dumbfounded. At this point, I couldn’t walk straight, nor even have a single word leave my lips completely. Even Lily could smell the alcohol in my breath. Yet how can I convince his dog that it wasn’t his fault? If any good came out of this rotten, shit filled relationship and pain was Lily, I thought. Lily belonged to Meli at one point. Henry looked back at if fondly. Meli had gotten Lily from her first dog and watched her grow up. Meli then thought it would be best to take Lily away, since her parents already had too many

Henry Smash Full of fury and hate, I begin to grab dishes that were left to dry and have been sitting there for days and break them. I didn’t even bother throw them, instead they sort of slip out of my hands, as if I picked it up and in a sudden motion, it flew out. Lily barked at the first smash, but is silent after the third or fourth. After a few minutes, I settled down and curled in the corner between the stove and counter. I hold my head in my palms, “Why would she lie to me? After everything we’ve been through and all those years of being together! Why me, huh? Why did I get stuck loving you, who didn’t love me back?” And then, I break into a hysterical sob. “You could have made it easier for us if you hadn’t said yes. Why me? Of all fucking guys?”  Suddenly, in a change of emotion, I started to smirk, “Then again, why you? Out of all – Selene was a good girl, she cooked day in and day out, never missed a beat. But she wouldn’t deal with it. There was Naom

I haven't really written a blog. So, here's the first one in a long time. Yesterday, I turned 26. And obviously, I don't feel any older. But I know I'm not 25 anymore. Does that make sense? I'm still in my 20's. But I'm no longer in the early twenties or mid twenties. Or am I? Because after 25, I'm past "mid" I'm in the late 20's club now. And that makes me feel all kinds of ways. I'm  excited for what comes. I'm nervous for what comes, in a good way. There's that sense in me that makes me feel as if I haven't accomplished enough. But I'm learning to not compare myself to others. In short, I'm ready for the new because I'm leaving the old behind. Which is why, yesterday, I did something new to me to represent what 26 will be like for me. Six Flags over Texas. I have never been there. It represents the new and thrilling ups and downs that I am nervous in doing but am not

A Drunken Stooper: A Wandering Mind I don’t get it. Why put up with me for five years and then decide to leave? We could have both saved us the hassle of the outcome. Why weren’t you honest with me and tell me the way you truly felt?  I could have saved you, Melissa. Instead, you decided to take your shit and leave me behind. Have me find my own way without guidance. She has to be fucking someone. It’s as clear as day. I know she was. Why else would she say she’s unhappy after five years? She got tired of me and whatever the fuck else is wrong with me. She probably ran out of excuses to give. Like the time she had to get a ride from a “classmate “. She said her car had a flat tire and she needed to haul it off. She called me to get her to help, but at the time I was doing a raid and couldn’t just bail on my team, so I asked her to wait for thirty minutes or so. Yet, instead of waiting, she decided to have her classmate drop her off at our home. The guy didn’t have his

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Etched in Space.  My mind's ablaze with knowledge so foreign I cannot comprehend. Delve deeper into the cosmos to learn a fraction of it. Where did we come from and why did it happen. Were we a flawed design? Created for a purpose for  an absent master? Are we a perfect creation prone to give in to our desires? Who has the answer?

David Arrives He’s here. I feel a bit better.  But, I think it also has something to do with the alcohol I have in the fridge. “I bring you the Gandalf!” David presents his long pipe, just like the one that Gandalf the Grey would smoke out of. The Gandalf would only be brought out when one of us was having a bad day, which apparently was every weekend. It was packed with weed that smelled like sweet oranges, “You’ll feel a fuck of a lot better once I’m through with you,” He removed his jacket and set it down on the table, making his way to the kitchen. “Another one?” “Yeah,” I responded. As he rummaged through the kitchen to grab the drinks, I began to spill my feelings on the matter that was on my mind. “Melissa dumped me today,” As he came out, he stood there, took a sip and handed me the drink and nodded to the pipe, “Take a hit man, what happened?” “She said I changed,” I said as I exhaled, “But all that is bullshit.  Her friends have been telling her to dump me

Created with Adobe Spark Break Up: The beginning  Melissa dumped me today. So, obviously I threw a fucking fit and now I won’t ever see her again, not after what happened today. I don’t really know what the fuck I can do now.  I haven’t really come to terms that the one person I wanted to wilt and die with no longer feels the same. I can barely function. All day long, it feels as if I’ve been repeating the same actions over and over again. I head down the hall of my townhome, sit down in the dining room table, then get back up and head back down the hall to see if I had forgotten my phone in the den. I hadn’t, since it’s in my hand the whole time, but it didn’t keep me from getting up a second time. I also have come to the realization that maybe, now that she’s gone, these are actions that were once automatic and now, I am very well aware of them. Somehow, this all feels, like a new experience, but I can’t help fighting with the facts – we were together for so long. N

A leaf falling from a Live Oak nearby gently wakes me up. I wake up in the middle of the street with no recollection of the night before. I quickly get up, fearing a car would speed by and trample me. But as I move, I realize that fear is ludicrous. There are no cars, except those parked in their driveways. The breeze blows softly. And yet this town today so silent it seems the wind is making a commotion. It’s a bit nerve wrecking, really. The streets are clean and kept; not an ounce of debris scattered. I make my way down the empty sidewalks, looking at the houses. They sit there, perfectly still and untouched. They all look the same when they are life less. Where did all the neighbors go? It all feels out of place. Why are there no children running around? Where are the cars that drive down the roads? They must feel empty knowing they won’t be used today, except for a wandering pedestrian who is losing her mind. I look up and even the skies are barren. No clouds to cover

Sunday morning. About to be 9 am . The shine from the sun illuminates the small caff in which Jennifer sits. Tall and with amber skin, she pushes her long, black hair from her face with her right hand and tucks it behind her ear. Now her beautiful round, doe eyes can be seen. She takes a sip of her coffee and pretends to look over the menu. She’s not hungry. She’s waiting. In walks an older gentleman wearing a dark jacket. He brings with him a somber presence. He takes a sit at the counter of the café and softly orders. He turns around to see who else happens to be in the café, besides the staff. A father with his two children. A young lady. Two men sitting side by side. Another woman crying over the phone. And a homeless man who passed out on the counter few seats away from where he is. The gentleman turns back around as the waitress serves him a cup of coffee. He thanks her as she walks away. Jennifer notices as the man swung his head around and

The lightning shines the dark and gloomy skies. Then BOOM!! Goes the thunder seconds behind it. It repeats continuously. Mickey stands in her living room watching the rain pound the dirt beneath it into submission. She takes a sip of her hot earl grey and takes in a deep breath, “Perfect,” she sighs, anxiously. Mickey makes her way to her chocolate love seat and reaches for her control to turn on the television. News reports of breaking weather fill the slots. “Wendy Vice here for Channel 6. Gary, this is the third tree on this block alone that has fallen over and taken out the power lines on Baker Street. The strong gust of wind and heavy rain are making...” The news continued. “Baker? That’s about three blocks down from where we are,” Mickey said to herself letting her mind run wild with unlikely scenarios. She stands back up and looks out the window again. The darkness has consumed the neighborhood. The barks of dogs faintly fill the air but are dominated by the wind and t