Posted in activism, artsy stuff, community, creativity, crowdfunding, dreams, emergency, faith, friends, history, observations, poetry, storage, urgent, writing

8/16: Act (poetry)

[Still urgently needing help with crowdfunding and saving everything]

Dream.
Is to
Believe in oneself.

Living.
Is more than a commute and
Bland food.

Belief.
In self and the good in the world
Leads to peace.

Create.
What you see is beauty.
Others might agree.

Explore.
The world has much variety.
Experience it.

Love.
All our differences that make us
Stronger.

~A

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Posted in anxiety, artsy stuff, auction, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, family, life, poetry, storage, urgent, writing

7/30: The Sanctity of Space

The Sanctity of Space
[Poem about what I’m going to lose if I don’t raise the funds. I have a task tomorrow that will put a bit into the ‘kitty’, but not a lot.]


The sanctity of space
The collections of memories
The baubles of comfort.

Stashed out of reach
From
The Collector of Time.

Seeking peace amidst
The flurry of madness.
Afraid to lose.

That which is attached to
History and future.
Slipping away.

The tendrils of commerce gripping
The hope of dreams past and
Yet to come.

Ornaments of family gone.
Held in grief and love.
Pain yet released.

The paraphernalia of memories
Not forgotten
If only for the tangible itself.

Dreams returning to life.
Passions on hold
Hidden behind lock and key.


~A

[Yes, help is still needed. Badly. Unless a miracle happens, I don’t see a chance of getting storage caught up before August 1st. I’ll find out when auction is and go from there.]

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, empath life, grief, homeless, homelessness, life, storage, urgent, writing

7/25: rediscovering myself

So, yes. Still need help with getting things caught up financially. Preferably before the end of the month. Whether it’s via the GFM or PayPal (preferred), any help is vastly appreciated.

So… after last nights fucked up mess, I had therapy today. I read her the poem and the second post about getting my life back. Talking to her about the argument and what I posted got me realizing that I’ve been focusing so hard on real life shit that I’ve pushed aside all the stuff I love that has defined who I am and how I want my life to be.

Music, writing, etc.

While I can’t do much on the music front, I can write. She noticed that whenever I get into the deeper emotional stuff, I back out and start talking about my writing or music.

I had a warped little prompt pop into my head while on my way there. So, I’m playing with it and seeing where it might go. A mix of fantasy and murder.

I’ve missed the creative release. I see who I become when I push that aside and try to work too hard on real life. I have to stop feeling guilty for writing in the midst of the mess my life currently is. I’m angry. At myself and the injustices I see and experience around me. The bullying and lies. The hate.

I give myself permission to create in the midst of madness. I need to keep reminding myself of this, as I no longer have my dad to nudge me.

~A

Posted in anxiety, bugaboos, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, empath life, grief, homeless, homelessness, life, storage, urgent, writing

7/25: rediscovering myself

So, yes. Still need help with getting things caught up financially. Preferably before the end of the month. Whether it’s via the GFM or PayPal (preferred), any help is vastly appreciated.

So… after last nights fucked up mess, I had therapy today. I read her the poem and the second post about getting my life back. Talking to her about the argument and what I posted got me realizing that I’ve been focusing so hard on real life shit that I’ve pushed aside all the stuff I love that has defined who I am and how I want my life to be.

Music, writing, etc.

While I can’t do much on the music front, I can write. She noticed that whenever I get into the deeper emotional stuff, I back out and start talking about my writing or music.

I had a warped little prompt pop into my head while on my way there. So, I’m playing with it and seeing where it might go. A mix of fantasy and murder.

I’ve missed the creative release. I see who I become when I push that aside and try to work too hard on real life. I have to stop feeling guilty for writing in the midst of the mess my life currently is. I’m angry. At myself and the injustices I see and experience around me. The bullying and lies. The hate.

I give myself permission to create in the midst of madness. I need to keep reminding myself of this, as I no longer have my dad to nudge me.

~A

Posted in creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, faith, homeless, insomnia, life, peace, poetry, storage, urgent

6/24: The Sky (#poetry)

(Still #crowdfunding as well. Time is running out as auction is at noon 6/28)

*******

I want to look at the sky.
Not some cinderblock wall.
Remind me I’m alive.
That I have dreams and goals.
That I wake each morning
And have another day
To plan, live, breathe.
I wake each morning
And see the sky.

Beckoning.
A dream lost in
Time.
In space.
Small steps.
Where is the niche?
I must fit somewhere.
Do I belong
To the sky?

Or am I ever meant to belong
Anywhere?
The sky
She calls.
Imagine.
Dream.
Plan.
But don’t forget
To
Wake each morning
And see the sky.

~A

Posted in dreams, family, grief, insomnia, life, music, observations, writing

Dammit, Brain!

(Ignore the fact I chose a pic of Portia, it’s 3:40am now…)

Dammit, Brain, it’s 3am. And you decide to dream about a random chance to meet Marilyn Manson. You aren’t even a fan. Stop doing random shit Brain and go back to sleep like you should.

So, because I can’t get back to sleep, I decided to look up Marilyn Manson and see why he comes up. Read part of a rather odd interview. And below is what I found.

Now I think I may understand why my brain did what it did. I read an article on MM. He lost his mother and then his father, whom he was really close to. And in the dream, we take a pic and then I mention that I’m just here by happenstance. He said he felt the need to come over, even though I wasn’t seeking him out. I briefly mention losing both parents and then being homeless, but bouncing back. And he gives me a hug.

There’s a common thread in our real lives. Both of us are “adult orphans” … and after his dad died, he knew his dad wouldn’t let him take time to grieve as he was super supportive and a fighter. When my dad died, I was in the middlenof NaNoWriMo and, despite everyone saying it would be okay if I didn’t do it that year (2014), I knew he wouldn’t want me to stop writing. So I didn’t.

Something about that… I didn’t know that about MM until I just looked it up. Subconscious is trying to say something…

~A

Posted in dreams, family, grief, insomnia, life, music, observations, writing

Dammit, Brain!

(Ignore the fact I chose a pic of Portia, it’s 3:40am now…)

Dammit, Brain, it’s 3am. And you decide to dream about a random chance to meet Marilyn Manson. You aren’t even a fan. Stop doing random shit Brain and go back to sleep like you should.

So, because I can’t get back to sleep, I decided to look up Marilyn Manson and see why he comes up. Read part of a rather odd interview. And below is what I found.

Now I think I may understand why my brain did what it did. I read an article on MM. He lost his mother and then his father, whom he was really close to. And in the dream, we take a pic and then I mention that I’m just here by happenstance. He said he felt the need to come over, even though I wasn’t seeking him out. I briefly mention losing both parents and then being homeless, but bouncing back. And he gives me a hug.

There’s a common thread in our real lives. Both of us are “adult orphans” … and after his dad died, he knew his dad wouldn’t let him take time to grieve as he was super supportive and a fighter. When my dad died, I was in the middlenof NaNoWriMo and, despite everyone saying it would be okay if I didn’t do it that year (2014), I knew he wouldn’t want me to stop writing. So I didn’t.

Something about that… I didn’t know that about MM until I just looked it up. Subconscious is trying to say something…

~A

Posted in anxiety, artsy stuff, C-PTSD, community, convention, cosplay, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dragon, dreams, emergency, friends, homeless, homelessness, individuality, life, PTSD, Science Fiction and Fantasy, storage, urgent

4/6/18: Geeky Beggar #geek #starwars #geeklife #crowdfunding #urgent #cosplay #cosplayer #Jedi

I’ve never hidden my true geekiness. From music to books to movies to well, a lot of things. So now I’m putting the call out to my fellow geeks. I need help. I’m a freaky geeky weirdo of all trades. I’ve done what is now called #cosplay since I was a kid, really getting into it in my 20’s. Star Wars, Star Trek, some period stuff, creating my own characters, and eventually dabbling in #steampunk.

I still have all my costumes. But they’re stuck in storage along with enough brown fabric to outfit a small force of Jedi.

A bit of my geekiness over the years:

A storage unit that is going up for auction on 4/12, next Thursday.

I owe just under $1400 as of a letter I received via email earlier today.

I’m technically unemployed, although I do tasks through Taskrabbit, but most months have borne little income. I’m homeless and all my worldly possessions are in that storage unit.

To lose everything in that storage unit would be akin to losing my identity. Losing myself.

Any help, sharing and donating being the two things that can be done.

~Amanda