blog, blogging, life, love, writer, writing

Stubbornness

I believe that everything happens for a reason…

Yet here I find myself trying like hell to ignore the reason as to why this image continually sneaks its way into my mind…

I keep trying to convince myself that this entire situation is ridiculous…

But, truth be told…I’m kinda scared to find the answer…

So universe, could you please stop doing whatever it is you’re doing. I know I usually listen to you, that I learn from life’s lessons, however, this one time I’m refusing your lesson, I’m denying your sign…

I imagine that there will be a shift slamming in for my act of stubbornness, but let’s be honest with one another, that image (as sweet as it is, as handsome as he is) isn’t destined to come true…

So allow me permission to kill it and peacefully lay it to rest, because it’s been allowed to kill me for too long…

Am I outta my head, am I outta my mind… -MGK

blog, blogging, creativewriting, life, love, mental health, writer, writing

Side Effects

This reflection was momentarily captured on the other side of this glass, small features have shifted, changes have been made…

The catch light that glows within those hazel eyes has dimmed and now it flickers like the fourth lightbulb…

The beat that vibrates her entire skeletal frame has lost some of its bass, soft almost unnoticeable…

The electric currents that race limitlessly around this luminous cerebral cortex has been having one too many glitches lately, causing frustration and confusion jams…

All of these mishaps equal a young old soul that is becoming weary, side effects of this internal conflict has been tears sneaking out of those dimming eyes…

A cure hasn’t been found…

Like neon inside glass, they form my brain. But, I recently discovered it’s a heatless fire… -Twenty One Pilots

blog, blogging, life, mental health, music, relationships, writer, writing

Morphing 2018

I have morphed from a young kiddo to an interesting human…

I have morphed from the broken girl always in the hospital to the immortal mortal, Death clearly isn’t ready…

I have morphed from the suicidal teen to a voice who won’t shut up about ending this suffocating stigma attached to mental health…

I have morphed from the immature girl who would enter into wrong relationships, eluded by the notion that at least I wasn’t lonely, when in fact I had never felt lonelier. Guys that didn’t deserve what and who I am, each breaking me down. It took the toxicity of dating a sociopath for my eyes to truly open, for my mind to reevaluate and for my heart to realize that waiting for my genuine Jack isn’t asking for too much…

I have morphed from the quiet doormat to taking care of myself and starting to stand up for my values, for myself. I have detoxified my atmosphere, those whom I surround myself with, both in reality and the internet…

I have morphed from Derra to Derra Nicole!

I’ll morph to someone else, I’m just a ghost…defense mechanism mode… -Twenty One Pilots

blog, blogging, creativewriting, life, love, writer, writing

Black Hoodie, Black Skies, Baffled Brain

Black hoodie with purple blocks that trail down the left sleeve, a giant purple M on the back in representation of Mania and the logo of Fall Out Boy in block lettering on the front…

Hood covering this burnette head and keeping these ears warm while this cerebral races…

The chill in the breeze bites the tip of this freckled nose as sips of piping hot coffee warm these porcelain bones and the steam escapes from the Jack Skellington mug…

The moon and stars are slightly peeking out from the plush black skies, inspiring this pen to articulate the unsolvable equation that is currently torturing this beating heart…

The ink embedded on her back, in between her shoulder blades, is glowing a luminous teal and yet feels as though it’s digging into her skin…

She feels the need to write about it, blog about it because in her mind this is a problem needing to be solved. She needs to find the answer, it is the only way her brain can move on…

The brain owned by this young woman is scarred yet brilliant. It is capable of producing intelligent thoughts as well as solving any situation thrown her way (more times than not). However, with a mere 180* flip, this brain has also been known to conjure up a few dark thoughts. All of this adds up to be both a blessing and a curse…

For the last year, this stranger has rented space in her mind and heart. For the last year, this young woman has tried tirelessly to evacuate this stranger from her mind and heart. And just when she feels that she has accomplished her mission, his image is right back where it doesn’t belong…

This is one equation that has baffled this young woman….

“Why me?”…

“Why him?…

“How the hell do I make all of this vanish?”…

Aside from Googling “brain transplant” , she’s at a loss…

Perhaps she is just doomed…

Lonely nights I laid awake, pray to Lord my soul to take, my heart’s become to cold to break .. G-Eazy

blog, blogging, life, mental health, writer, writing

Rubberband

Upon my right wrist used to live a rubberband…

This rubberband’s daily mission was to snap a sharp sting that would shoot up from my vein all the way up to my brain…

That sharp sting would annihilate the current toxic thought of wanting to murder my name…

All through high school this rubberband fought tirelessly to save my existence…

Today, that rubberband has been replaced by this life line embedded underneath this scarred skin. This ink’s purpose is that of a promise made to another human that I would never again attempt to take my own life…

Upon my right arm lives the memory of a rubberband.

Neon Gravestones try to call for my bones… -Twenty One Pilots

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Symbiote

The lyrics below are the very ones that have been swirling around my mind. Here is a dose of motivation, let this symbiote take over..

“I got a song filled with shit for the strong-willed
When the world gives you a raw deal
Sets you off ’til you scream, “Piss off! Screw you!”
When it talks to you like you don’t belong
Or tells you you’re in the wrong field
When something’s in your mitochondrial
‘Cause it latched on to you, like—

Knock knock, let the devil in
Malevolent as I’ve ever been, head is spinnin’
This medicine’s screamin’, “L-L-L-Let us in!”
L-L-Like like a salad bowl, Edgar Allan Poe
Bedridden, shoulda been dead a long time ago
Liquid Tylenol, gelatins, think my skeleton’s meltin’
Wicked, I get all high when I think I’ve smelled the scent
Of elephant manure—hell, I meant Kahlúa
Screw it, to hell with it, I went through hell with accelerants
And blew up my-my-myself again

Volkswagen, tailspin, bucket matches my pale skin
Mayo and went from Hellmann’s and being rail thin
Filet-o-Fish, Scribble Jam, Rap Olympics ’97 Freaknik
How can I be down? Me and Bizarre in Florida
Proof’s room slept on the floor of the motel then
Dr. Dre said “hell yeah!”
And I got his stamp like a postcard, word to Mel-Man
And I know they’re gonna hate
But I don’t care, I barely can wait
To hit them with the snare and the bass
Square in the face, this fuckin’ world better prepare to get laced
Because they’re gonna taste my—Venom…” -Eminem

blog, blogging, life, writer, writing

Love Tap?…Nope

41… this number represents the amount of hours that I have been awake. 2 hours ago I entered into the zombie zone that has placed my body into a weird auto pilot system.

Why are my eyes cemented open?…

Maybe it’s because these manuscript ideas are racing …

Maybe it’s because these songs keep playing on repeat…

Maybe it’s because these plans need to be scheduled…

Maybe it’s because of the cooler weather…

Maybe it’s because I’m a born night owl…

Maybe it’s because I am engulfed in these specific lyrics pertaining to these Neon Gravestones…

Maybe it’s because my attention is captured by this beautiful 2am sky…

Maybe it’s because of this Venom seeping into my veins…

Maybe it’s because my birthday is in 3ish weeks…

Maybe it’s because I’m excited for the holidays…

Maybe it’s because I’m hungry…

Maybe it’s because my mind keeps resuscitating these certain thought that I keep drowning…

Or, maybe, just maybe it’s all of the above and more…

Honestly….I don’t want to dream, so I can’t fall asleep.

The brain of an Insomniac…gotta love it.

The softest echo could be enough for me to make it through… -Twenty One Pilots