Requiem for me...

I've been dead for a very long time.

For as long as I can remember, my heart has wallowed in this dark realm of fear and loathing for myself. For years, anyone who even remotely tried to bring any type of brightness to my world would be scratched at like the Jabberwocky.


I cannot even begin to explain why....

Was it pain?

fear...

selfishness? 

I'm really not sure...and I hurt a lot of people because of it.

Today, as the last day of the year is upon me...I am finally ready to allow sunlight into the darkness....

While, I cannot promise that darkness wont creep in again, and I cannot confirm that I will not bite...
I can remain faithful to the fact that I am willing and able to bear all of the wounds of my soul and try...

For the first time in my life...

My God...

                     
                     I am willing to try!


So, this is my Mass of Remembrance....

To the darkness...

To the past....

          To the pain....

May it eternally rest in peace....

and May I continue to LIVE eternally in peace.

Welcome to Midnight...

Another year almost gone....

And, I just realized that I have achieved the greatest of accomplishments....

I survived.

I must admit, however, this year was far from productive and conducive to actually living my life and feeling any semblance of being alive.
I spent most days and nights alone in my small one bedroom apartment.
If I went anywhere, it was to work, therapy sessions, the grocery store, or to spend time with the one person that I can and always will call a friend.


As I look back on it all, I can barely even remember where the last year of my twenties went or who I really spoke to, shared my thoughts with, gave my heart to or made memories with, because in reality....I didn't.


The only person I truly and deeply fell in love with this year was myself.


I found my voice again. Found solace within all the darkness I have in my soul. Embraced the depths and layers of my mind...and found beauty between all of them.

From all of it...I have found creativity and a language only I understand.
(I hope one day I will find someone that has patience enough to listen)

I found the paradox that I have so much love inside of me that it hurts, but despite the pain....I have only more love to give....and I will NEVER give up.

I also found that, although, I am indeed a cynic...I have the ability to trust and allow myself to be open to whatever life throws my way.
Simply because....I have and continue to survive.

So, cheers to you 2013. You have been a blessing to my life. I never thought I would have come this far.

I believe that 2014 and 2015 and so forth can only become more eye opening from here......

Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing at all...

If I could offer the world one piece of advice it would be to....

Always. Take. Chances.

Whether it be a new job, a new relationship, or moving somewhere completely out of your comfort zone, never pass up those opportunities when they arise. You never know when you will get the chance again.

Laugh.

Be kind to yourself. Allow others to do the same.

Accept your flaws. In the end, these are the things that make you unique and beautiful.

Love yourself, and allow others to love you too. Even if it is scary and you may get hurt. Love is the greatest emotion humans are graced with.

Don't be afraid of what the future may hold. No one has a crystal ball to see their life unfold. Frankly, even if you were given one, would you really want to look?

Make peace with your family. You wont be able to when they are gone.

Forgive. Forgive everyone....even yourself.

Accept help. Don't allow your pride to get in the way. If you are struggling, let people help you when you fall down. You will be thankful you did, and so will they.

Breathe. No matter how bad it is, how angry you get, just remember to breathe....this too shall pass.

Dance.

Listen. When you take the time to listen to others, the world teaches you more than you could ever imagine.

Most importantly, and please, trust me on this....

Always.

             Take.

                      Chances. 

Heart full of Love; Mouth full of venom.

I have a confession....

I cannot manage my emotions very well.

Okay, okay...that's not really a confession; an OBVIOUS statement, yes.

I guess I'm now more willing to admit, accept, and OWN up to the fact that I am an emotional wreck most days.

But, I try not to be.

Truth is, I can't manage my heart because I feel way too much. I see way too much. I hear way too much. And the results are always the same....I end up SPEAKING way too much.

My mind goes into a whirlwind of twisted impossibilities that subsequently, turn the whole world against me.

Why can't I just MAKE. IT. WORK.

I got written up at work the other day; second time since I started working there four months ago. Problem is, I'm doing my job VERY WELL. I'm managing horrible and volatile cases of abused children with excellence....but I'm NOT managing my own life...and I'm getting punished for it. TWICE.

But, I am human. I am an ODD human. I am an expressive human. I am an emotional human. I say what I feel, when I feel it and who I feel it for.

And, I understand this about myself. I understand it's a huge issue. I get that. My mouth has gotten me in trouble my whole life.

But, how do I change who I am to fit into a mold of who I am not?

I know, I have to just MAKE. IT. WORK.....somehow.


  

Roadside Inspiration

All the words have been written
And all the songs have been sung
And the emotions are all gone. 

But your eyes are so blue. 

The bars fill on the weekends.
And the men drink too much. 
And the women always feel 
Ugly. 

But you...
And your eyes...

Are always so blue. 

Sitting, talking, writing...

dreaming...

Because you...
And your eyes....

Are always so blue... 

And, I, Sit.

The room is so loud.
Crowded.
Full of life.

Yet, I sit. Lonely.
Empty.

I hear people's conversations.
I listen to them while they tell me stories.

About their life.
Their kids.
Their jobs.

And I sit. Lonely.
Empty.

And I think.

Is this how it's supposed to be?
Is this how I'm supposed to be?

Rude. Ignorant. Mean. Selfish. Arrogant. Sheltered.
Happy? 

Am I the weird one?

And I sit. Lonely.
Empty.

Why can't I join them?
It seems so easy.

And yet I sit. In this crowded room.
Lonely.
Empty. 

10 second Poetry.

He prefers me quiet. His emotional punching bag.
Spewing his inner demons on me
for hours.

For days.

The light in the hallway flickers.
I stare at it gracelessly, trying to block out the noise.

He notices.

I return to his stare.

Empty.
Cold.
Alone.

He prefers me quiet. 

In a nutshell...I'm pretty nuts.

I'm broke, I'm moody, I get angry at the slightest implications of being taken advantage of...

I am restless, I am lonely, I want nothing more than to love and be loved in return....

I'm messy, I'm unorganized, I am hard to handle....

I'm loud, I party too much, I'm a smoker....


But, I am also...


Strong, independent, I am able to recognize my flaws....

I am accepting of others, I am willing to bend when needed....

I am unique, I am intelligent....

I see the world through different eyes....

I am able to stand on my own two feet, no matter how many time I get knocked down...

I am beautiful, I am creative...

I am compassionate, I love completely...

I have layers...so many that, even I have yet to uncover them all.

So, for those who are willing to accept BOTH parts of me...I welcome you into my world.

It might not be all that fabulous at times....but I can say this....you will be missing out on one hell of a party.

Please wipe your feet before you tread on my feelings....

I really thought that LOVE would save us all...

     In twenty-seven days, I will celebrate my third decade of existence on this planet. I'm wondering, however, what does this mean exactly? 30....Thirty....fucking THIRTY!!! I mean, according to the societal stigma placed on women, I'm supposed to be married and have like 3 offspring by now, right? If I was a tiger, I would have been past my prime decades ago, but...the fact is folks, I'm not a tiger, or a frog, or a horse, or, apparently, a normal female. No, because I look at love and life a little differently.

Are you married?

No.

You have any kids?

No.

*Assuming I am now a lesbian*

       Ohhhh...

    No, I am not a lesbian (sorry to ruin that image for ya). And, no I am not a 'man-basher' or feminist, or whatever else people think of me because I'm 30 and still single. I'm just not ready to settle. I'm not ready to put myself in a position where I'm searching for an escape route. And I also dont see view love as a jail sentence.
    When I love someone...I love them with everything I have. Physical, emotional, material, mental....everything I have...is theirs. And while, some may argue this isn't the best approach...it's my approach and it's my emotions.

Truth is.....

Maybe I'm a hopeless romantic, or maybe I'm just a fool. But....It's been brought to my attention recently, that I deserve more than what I've been seeking. I'm confused by this sentiment. Frankly, if I want something, isnt that what I deserve? I mean....I'm allowed to be selfish every now and then right? Maybe I'm not making any sense right now....I dont know if I ever make any sense. Maybe thats my problem....communication.

But, how do you communicate love? I think I do a pretty damn good job at showing it. I know I say it enough. I know I do enough....what more do they want?
It just seems like no one wants my passion....there is always someone better. Always someone prettier....someone with bigger tits. Someone smarter. I cant compete anymore....and I'm tired of trying. 

Warning: May cause extreme uncomfortablness. Proceed with Caution.

I have not written a blog in quite sometime. To be honest, I haven't written anything in a long time.

But, why Amy?

Well, to be honest...I'm afraid. Pouring my feelings out onto a screen is not an easy thing all the time. Especially when every single time I write, I get judged for what I think. This doesn't only happen when it comes to my words.

More often than not, I'm NOT happy. I don't feel fabulous. I don't feel great...fuck, I don't even feel okay with myself. It's a struggle to make it through the day sometimes without wanting to throw in the towel or run to the nearest liquor store and drown my sorrows in a bottle of vodka.

Oh, I'm sorry...is this making you uncomfortable?

This is the problem. We walk around the world pretending that everything is just fine. We ask people we see how they are doing and don't really care or wait for their response. It is second nature to us to simply respond with an I'm fine/good/great. When in reality, you probably just got done crying in the bathroom.

So, why even ask when you dont really give a shit or do not want to hear the real answer?

The truth is, we all struggle with saddness every once in a while. So, why can't we be honest about it?? We keep this emotion locked away like it's some sort of disease. Boys are taught from a young age that crying is NOT acceptable behavior, girls are taught that crying is okay but never show your misery in public. You must always put on a happy face. Why does this emotion make people feel so awkward?

Ya know there's a pill for that.

Yes, of course there is. Because as soon as someone feels something that is anything less than positive...well...that's just ludicrous.

Here ya go honey. Swallow this pill, it will make you happy again.   

My point here is that we shouldn't be ashamed of our raw, naturally occurring human emotions. Life is fucking hard...and having bad days is completely normal.

  
 So you have yourself a good, sad, bad, great, happy, miserable, or whatever the fuck kind of day you want to have. If you want to talk about it later, I'll be here to listen. I'm not afraid.

Love to all.

 

Happy Birthday, 'Murica!

On the eve of America's birthday, I thought it would be appropriate to give a shout out to how awesome our country is. So, here are a few tid bits of what you can expect when you enter the land of the free and the home of the brave.

*Only in America can you get a pizza delivered to your house faster than an ambulance.

* Only in America it is legal to have sex with a horse in 26 states but only 6 states have allowed gay marriage. 

*Only in America is a cheeseburger .99 cents but a salad costs $4.99.

*Only in America you can buy cigarettes at the front entrance of a pharmacy but have to walk to the back of the store for medication. 

* Only

 in

America....

I could go on but...do I really need to after this one: 
 

  So, thanks USA! You Rock my socks. Also, NSA: I hope you are enjoying my naughty and quite hilarious text conversations I have on a daily basis. :)

What you see is what you get.

 Crazy.

Weirdo.

Chaotic.

Cynical.

   
      People I meet in life are not always that nice to me. I'm learning each day, however, to accept these realities as the universes way of letting me know that everyone has their issues, and the things people say to me are just reflections of their own insecurities.
    I have been told, on several occasions, that I open up too much to people. I put myself out there too soon....I expose myself to the core too frequently....and this is what allows others to hurt me. My vulnerabilities show and people take advantage of that.
Still, as much as some may see that as a flaw...I truly think thats the best part about myself....

I have been blessed with the GENUINE gene...I believe I inherited that from my Mama. 

   I am an open book...right down to my physical flaws. I don't wear makeup, I never got braces, I don't use padded bras...I rarely wear heels. Because, you see....You gotta love yourself and you have to let people love you....the REAL you. Showing off all your not so prettiness, allowing others to see that some days, you just don't feel like smiling, or showering...or even getting off the damn couch is OKAY!  Those days that you feel unaccomplished and vulnerable, and you can show others that you are just like them is fucking beautiful. Because, lets face it....we all feel that way sometimes.
   So, no...I am not going to hide who I am or try to "fix" what is less than perfect about myself. We are all flawed; that is what makes us special. 
  So, even if I am cynical, crazy, weird and chaotic....I am also...

Beautiful.

Creative.

Funny.

Amazing.

And so so so much more....

I am who I am...and I make no apologies for that. Neither should you.

I'm sorry, you're too poor to live here...please move to a different country.

Welfare.

   Nothing gets my blood boiling, my heart racing, my stomach turning more than the welfare debate. Please, do not read any further if you are an ignorant jackass that cannot tell the difference between his ass and his head.
   Now that I've gotten that out of the way, let me continue....
   Let me begin by admitting to all who are reading that I am on welfare. *GASP*

She must be lazy!

Get a job!!

Maybe you should go back to school and get an education?!

Oh, I didn't realize you were paying with FOOD STAMPS!

     Yes, all of the above statements have been said to me and about me. No, I am not lazy. In fact, I have been working since I was twelve years old. My first job, aside from assisting my older brother with his paper route, was a babysitting job for my next door neighbor. Since then, I've been working non-stop at various places, such as restaurants, retail stores, animal shelters and the like.
     Furthermore, I am educated. I have two college degrees. I was, unlike a lot of people in this country, fortunate enough to go to school, obtain an education and graduate with honors. Since I graduated in 2007, I have been working in the social services field; I have yet to find anything full-time. Because of this, I've been working at least two to three jobs at a time just to get by. None of these jobs provide any type of fringe benifits and unfortunately, for me, I need constant medical attention.
     For the past 13 years, I have been in and out of hospitals, Dr. offices, switched on and off of medicines, and had tests as well as surgeries performed. So, unless you have been blessed with optimal health and never had to deal with any part of the medical or pharmaceutical industry, you will know that it is extremely expensive. Opening the door and walking into a Doctor's office alone can cost you up to $100.00 and without medical coverage, the bills can collect rather quickly. In 2008, I was recieving my life sustaining medication through programs that were offered through the pharmacutical companies (my meds cost $1,400.00 a month out of pocket) while paying for my doctor visits via credit card. Some personal circumstances arose and my medication supply diminshed, which led me to not take the correct dosage, eventually landing me in the hospital for eight days.

Now what the hell do I do? 

     So, I had no other choice but to apply for WELFARE! Yup, that's right folks, medical assistance IS welfare. Some of you may be thinking:

Duh, why didn't she just pay for her own health insurance?

   Well, there is a little thing called the pre-exsisting illness clause. Basically, that means that, you can buy health care through a company (if they let you) for at the very least $450.00 a month. The only problem is, you will NOT be covered for your condition for one year. So, that's like buying a car you can't drive for a whole year...and....well, I'm not an idiot. So, medical assistance was my only option. 

But this is different, Amy!  

Hmmm....and, how is that? Because, I am taking the time to EXPLAIN my situation....when, in reality, it's really no ones buisness. By the way, I'm NOT done yet.

Three months ago, I got laid off from my job. The company I worked for were real pricks and when I filed for unemployment, they denied me. So, there I was, no job, no income, no savings....FUCK! How am I going to pay my rent; how am I going to make my car payment or my other bills; how the hell am I going to buy food?? *SIGH* Once again, I had to seek help. I deserve to eat just as much as those who have sustainable income do. So, I trudged my way to the assistance office, IPhone in hand, and applied for Food Stamps.
    Yes, I have an IPhone. Yes, I have a pretty nice, newer car. Yes, I have a Coach purse (Its fake). Yes, I have a tattoo, and, yes...I dress nice. There is no rule book for being poor. There is no law stating that if you are poor...you must automatically dress like a scumbag. I shop at consignment shops and look just as nice as the chick who just spent $80.00 on a dress at the Mall. My point is, I had all of these things before I fell on hard times, but I am now going to be judged because I'm going through a rough patch? I think this country needs a lesson on empathy.

Oh, that's right...Sorry, Mr. Romney...I must have forgot...

 

 

But, Amy, the majority of the people on welfare don't need to be on it. They are abusing the system...most of them are drug addicts....

Oh...Well, bust my buttons...I had NO idea! Please, tell me where you receive your information, or are you simply generalizing? So, if I say that the majority of black people are thieves....does this give me the right to automatically think and say that ALL black people are going to rob me when I see one?  

Quick, hide yo' shit girl! The black folk are comin'! 

Of course not because that would be racisit! But, if I work in a grocery store and I know tomorrow is 'food stamp' day....it's okay for me to say/think/post on Facebook....

OMG. So I just totally had a girl at the store pay with food stamps while she was playing on her Iphone and sporting a Gucci wallet. She then got into a really nice car! Wish I could live off of the system!

 Makes sense.....

I have just one very simple point to this whole story:

 Do Not Judge What You Don't Understand.

     Educate yourself before you make assumptions about others....and please, please, pleaseeeeeee...........if you think that tax breaks for the rich are NOT the same as any type of welfare for the poor....you have some serious mind control issues going on...as a good friend of mine once stated: "It's all government cheese no matter how you slice it."
 
Namaste.

Internet dating...enter at your own risk.

Dating sucks in general. Trying to meet and date new people living in a very, small area sucks even more. Dating in your late twenties sucks the most. Most of the men I meet are either already in established relationships, married, divorced, have 15 kids that they can't support, are alcoholics, do not have jobs, are disrespectful, or don't have teeth. So, for almost a year now, I've decided to enter the world of *drum roll please* online dating.
   At first, I trolled the sites like a ninja, floating in and out, just to see if I knew anyone personally. I didn't want anyone to see that I had stooped to the internet to find a date. After a few weeks, I decided I really didn't care all that much. After all, this was about me; I wanted to at least meet new people outside my social circle; whether or not it developed into something romantic was a whole different story.
   So, I put some pictures up and filled out a very vague profile about myself, and *POOF* in flow the e-mails... 

Hey beeutiful. :)

Your pretty and seem nice...

Wanna Chat?!

I want too taste you...

  Really guys, really? You cannot think of anything better to say? *sigh*
  And, did we make it through 3rd grade English class? Even if you aren't that great at grammar or spelling, there is something called spellcheck. If you're trying to score a date with a girl, please use what the age of technology has blessed you with.
    Still, after sifting through the horrendous attempts to get my attention, and the horrible screen names, sorry titsandbooze69, I WILL NOT be responding, there were a select few men I decided to write to. If they responded, and we chatted for awhile, nothing ever seemed to come out of it. The conversations usually fell very dry and mechanical. I mean, how much can you really say to one another typing back and forth through a screen?
     I remember, quite vaguely, one man who I ended up giving my number to. We texted back and forth for a week or two until we finally decided to meet for coffee; he stood me up.
    At first, I was a little pissed off because:

#1. He wasted my time, which I consider sacred.
#2. He made me begin to re-think the notion that I'll never meet a decent person...ever.

AND

#3. He was being fake...and I HATE fake people!
 
     I don't know, maybe it was me, or maybe that whole 'catfish' thing was happening. Either way, I was not putting up with it. So, my online profile got turned off for awhile. So, it was back to the drawing board for this girl.
   Just like previous years, however, it was all the same. Asking if I wanted to go for a ride at a baseball game was not my idea of being swept off my feet by Prince Charming. Neither was the slobbering bar scene. But, ALAS! Not all hope was lost, along came FACEBOOK! 
        Ahhhh, Facebook: the stories, the drama, the endless pictures of cats and what people are eating for dinner, but potential dates? Well, whoddathunkit?
Yes, it's true. There are people who meet (through a screen) on Facebook and fall in love. But, BEWARE, people can be whoever and whatever they want on the internet: Smart, attractive, kind, capable, single, SANE! It's all a beautiful facade, but it's fleeting and reality will sink in quicker than waking up next to a stranger after a night of heavy drinking.
  Still, there have been some success stories within the realm of online dating. Many of them involve very close friends and even family members of mine. As for me, however, maybe I just expect too much....like respect, reciprocated emotions, and actually spending time with the person I'm dating. Yea, I know...I must be a weirdo....  

 

  

Jesus is just alright with me.

     For as long as I was able to mutter words, see clear images with my new born eyes, and rationalize the difference between what was edible and what was not, I was taught that there was a "man" floating above us in the sky...a man that we referred to as "God."
     My parents baptized me into the Catholic faith, where I was assigned a godfather, (still not quite sure what that even means) and then, they sent me to a Catholic school, where I was beaten, quite literally, with a bible on a daily basis. My young mind, while too young to comprehend any better, truly believed that the angels were having a bowling tournament every time there was a thunderstorm. And, why not; I mean, if there really was some dude up there that can make ANYTHING happen, I'm sure he could let his angels play bowling if and when they wanted to...right??
     Now, please don't misconstrue my sarcasm. I am NOT an atheist, I am NOT a devil worshiper, and I am NOT the anti-Christ. In fact, I'm not anything. I'm just a human being. I'm a really awesome person trying to make it through a not so awesome world.

     SO....Why are ye fearful? Oh ye of little faith.

Let me explain.

     I like Jesus. I think he's a pretty cool dude. In fact, I even like the idea that there may be a "God" out there, but my problem is his fan club.
     Everyday I am bombarded with bible toting Jesus Freaks, shouting his name like teenage girls at a Justin Beiber concert; quite disturbing.
    The differnece between Beiber fans and Jesus fans, you ask? Well, Beiber fans are happy. JB fans don't tell you that you are going to go to a place filled with fire and brimstone if you dont like him as much as they do. JB fans don't hate you because you celebrate Halloween, or because you happen to like the same sex. In fact, JB fans would probably invite you to their Beiber party if they found out these things about you! True Story!

"OMG. Like, Jesus is like, so totally dreamy!!"

"I know! Did you see how he turned that water into wine? Like, how HAWT!"

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for shouting to the world how much you love something. I mean, I really enjoy eating pizza, and when the oppurtunity arises, and I happen to strike up a conversation about food, you bet your ass I'm gonna tote my love for the simple, yet delicious taste of this Italian delicacy. But, if the person I'm speaking with has already tried pizza, and well, they just don't like it, or maybe they are allergic to tomatoes, well, I'm not going to push the issue.

YOU HAVE TO TRY IT AGAIN!! IT WILL BE DIFFERENT! PIZZA WILL SAVE YOU!!!!

Sorry folks, it just doesnt work that way. Eventually, people will not only NEVER want to try pizza, they will HATE pizza, and eventually....you.
 
     Now, aside from the oh so annoying, in your face, come to the other side of Jesus plight that I really can't stand about this whole thing is that [some] people honestly believe that I must be some sort of demon because I simply do not and will not accept these 'truths.'
I'm sorry, but I will NOT and can NOT believe for one millisecond that Jesus would start wars in "his name," or condemn people for all eternity because they are in love. C'mon, people! Jesus don't hate!
He doesn't even hate Satan. Disappointed, yes...Hate...No!
     Still, there are Jesus fans out there (such as myself) that do not go around preaching judgement or hate, or shoving religion down your throat like a pregnant woman craving chocolate. There are those who respect others beliefs and keep their own beliefs to themselves...ya know, the way it's supposed to be.
   
   My point here is, I don't want to hear it. I keep my faith the way I want to keep it. I believe that I am a good person, and if there is a God, or if I'm really am going to meet St. Peter at those pearly gates one day, I think I'll be judged on my behavior...NOT because I attended church every Sunday, or memorized bible verses.
 

Peace and Love to All.

 

Let's talk about loneliness, baby...Let's talk about you and me.

Lonliness...I know it all too well.

Although I grew up surrounded by people, always having my Mom, Dad, brother and two sisters around me at seemingly all times, I never really felt that human connection. I was always walking between worlds. But, I was an odd child....I felt more comfortable in the hands of fictional strangers and fairy-tale lands.

     Grade school was a nightmare. I was the quiet chic who colored her teddy bear pink and had the really weird haircut. Peers brushed me aside like I carried the plauge underneath my plaid jumper; teachers did the same.

I said: 'Girl Scout, step OUT, Amy!

 When high school approached like a bat out of hell, all of the "friends" that I did have, were way ahead of me in the romance department. Their first kisses had come and gone years ago, usually lost during a game of spin-the-bottle, but here I was, still the odd girl with the weird haircut...STILL painting her teddy bears pink...and still not kissing boys.
      It was the summer going into my Freshman year when I finally did it. I finally just laid it on some dude in the back of a '92 ford escort. It sucked; too much teeth....not enough meaning. But, at least I could now say that I wasn't the ONLY 14 year old that never kissed anyone....let alone (dare I say) *gasp* have SEX!!
     Throughout my high-school days, unlike most giddy, hormone crazed teenagers, I did not have a significant other. I floated through the crowds a pot-smoking, but very jaded and angry, free-spirited hippie chic.
     When I turned sixteen, I fell in "love" with a nineteen year old mucisian who, like myself, loved beer, smoking pot, Dylan, poetry, and hated the government. (BE STILL MY HEART) Of Course I was in LOVE! This extremely unhealthy and obsessive attraction lasted for six years. I lost my virginity to him at the ripe old age of 19, and then continued to swoon over him until I finally gave up his rejections and accepted the fact that we would never be what I longed for.
    During the course of those years, I dated a few guys. Nothing ever came out of those relationships, however, and most of them lasted only 4 months or so. Part of this was due to my heart being in the wrong place, and part of it was due to their 'heart' being in the wrong place as well...if you know what I mean. *wink wink*
    During college, and after I was finally moved on from my first love gone wrong, I found and fell for another douche-bag with a capital D. I'm not going to get into the, quite literal, gory details of this horrendous relationship, so I will just say, that the next three years of my life, were HELL. BUT.....Moving on.....

You're probably wondering what the point of all this is...
                 "Yea, Amy...Get to the point already!!!!!" 

Well, fine....

Introducing, Hunter S. Thompson....

Sticks and Stones and Broken Bones....

     Like most people, I struggle with life on a daily basis. I trudge through the dirty waters of financial hardship, health issues, societal stigmas, social inadequacies, and the constant feeling of loneliness. For the past two years, I've been working on that; on both a professional scale and in my own personal time. I feel like it's a constant college course of "re-wiring my brain" to the positive side of life. I've been working really hard to try and look for the silver lining in things, find the beauty in everyday life, live with the light instead of constantly fighting with the dark...BUT.... (Yes, there is always a but...) It's fucking hard, man...especially when you're the kind of person that is not very careful with their heart...  

STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES, BUT WORDS WILL NEVER HURT ME!

You're not good enough. You'll never amount to anything. You should do something about your (fill in physical imperfection here.)

What are we supposed to do when people we love, and who are supposed to love us back, say these things to us? Act as if they do not cause wounds? Pretend that they did not just re-open scars? Smile, hold your head high, wish them peace and walk away? I'm tired of that.

Life throws some vicious curve balls. I never was a good batter...