Posted in anxiety, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, grad school, homeless, job hunting, life, Personal, poetry, semicolon, storage, urgent, writing

9/8: Stand Still

(#crowdfunding as usual. I wasn’t intending to post a poem, but the words and the image in my mind wouldn’t go away. This is how I feel right now. Unedited. Unsure.)

Brace myself.
The wind may come
Unexpectedly.
Knocking me down.
Frozen.
Stuck.
I cannot turn around.
Things to do but nothing
Propels me
Forward.
One path blocked.
I look down another seemingly
Open path.
So many hurdles
Hidden.
The fog keeps them a secret.
Another path.
Alas, too steep to climb.
Another washed out.
Where do I go?
I stand still.
Unsure of my path.
At a
Standstill.

~A

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Posted in bugaboos, community, creativity, crowdfunding, dragon, emergency, eviction, friends, genealogy, grad school, history, homeless, housing, job hunting, life, music, Personal, research, storage, urgent, writing

9/6: No Soul-Sucking Allowed, Dammit (but #crowdfunding is)

I started this on Facebook, but opted to bring it over here. And yes, still #crowdfunding to get funds to save storage. 

This is only slightly tongue-in-cheek. Slightly.

My ideal work environment: not dealing with random humans. The occasional co-worker might be okay. I’m currently feeling a smidge Dragonish (i.e. anti-social), so occasional contact is okay.

And no cubicle farms. No/few phones. Email is preferred. I don’t stumble over my words as much. Also my foot doesn’t end up in my mouth as much. 

And not soul-sucking work. I’d like to keep my soul intact for a few more years. At least until I turn 50. Five more years is all I ask.

Let me enter data, do creative-ish things like websites or social media, have a variety of tasks/projects. Research. Gimme things to research. I lurv research. Just not medical, as they want bio degrees. I don’t have one of those. Research and write things. 

Pays well enough for me to move into a market rate studio close-in and cram the rest of my stuff into a smaller storage unit again. Also be able to pay for storage, utilities, Netflix and Hulu again, and eat without needing food stamps. Oh, and put money into savings and pay off a few bills.

*   *   *   *   *   *

Yeah… that shit would take a fucking miracle. I’m screwed.

~Dragon 

(Below is what I need to not lose my storage. Before the 15th)

Posted in anxiety, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, emergency, eviction, friends, grad school, homeless, housing, job hunting, life, Personal, Science Fiction and Fantasy, storage, urgent, writing

8/30: Limbo and #Crowdfunding

Feel free to share as many times as you want… and maybe even get gutsy and tag people you think could help. I’m too chicken to do that. (Incentive for donations in bold below)


I wish there was some magic word/phrase to say to help people understand why saving my belongings in storage is so important. There are so many things going on in the world right now. Storms and flooding in Texas and Louisiana, as well as in Central Asia, India and such. Record rainfall. Then hate crimes and mass shootings and so many negative things that it’s exhausting. I know I can’t do anything. I’m trying to get by myself.

I’m coming up on the 6 month mark this weekend for being homeless. If you were to look at me, you wouldn’t know I am, but where I’m staying is not my own and I am merely a long-term guest. A guest who desperately wants to get back into my own place again and have my stuff accessible… the stuff in storage. My piano, sewing machine, bed, tools, shoes, the rest of my clothes, my fabric…. my life.

Yes, there’s a potential backup. If -and that “if” being HUGE- I get the appeal approved and I’m added to classes for this term, which has to happen by Friday, then I may get financial aid in time. I don’t know. I do not want to rely on that. What if the appeal is turned down? What if FA funds don’t show in time? Too many ‘ifs’ there. Granted, I don’t want to rely on donations either.

So, here’s the deal for this last minute plea: Taking a page from David Gerrold’s “book” from his GFM, For anyone who donates at least $40 from here on out, I will send you e-pub copies of my three novels. If you donate less, one e-pub book of your choice. An assemblage of as much of my poetry into a PDF is also included, if you wish. I’d offer print copies, but what few I have are in storage and I need to redo the covers anyway… (If you really, REALLY want print copies, those would be delayed due to shipping, etc)

Please only use PayPal at this point. If I don’t make it and we have to go into early September, then the YC campaign will be okay, but remember, it takes a few days to process to my bank… as in “business days” not weekends and holidays. PP will be immediate for me.


School is in limbo as well. I’ve done my FAFSA now for aid money and should hear on the appeal tomorrow (she told me this morning ‘in the next couple of days’ which I’m taking to mean today and tomorrow. Friday is cutting WAY too close). Many people I’ve talked to about the appeal say that with all the shit that’s happened this year, it should be a ‘no-brainer’ but we are talking a state college in a right-wing state (remote program) and all the red-tape that goes with it. A school that refused to accept a letter from a Physician’s Assistant… and accepted the same damn letter when an MD attached his name to it. Yeah… pretty fucking back-asswards.


Well, I’m a bit tired… and my back is cursing at me despite having had medication to make it shut up… and I have a dentist appt in the morning. Then a phone interview with a temp agency that’s placing a temp-to-hire job I applied for. The Novocaine should be worn off by the time of the phone call.

~A

Posted in anxiety, artsy stuff, cats, community, creativity, crowdfunding, depression, dreams, emergency, eviction, faith, friends, grad school, homeless, job hunting, life, Personal, poverty line, PTSD, semicolon, storage, urgent, writing

8/22: Wishes and Goals and #crowdfunding

(Crowdfunding plea… time is running out… and now onto your irregularly scheduled post)

If you had asked me a year ago where I would be right now, I’d tell you I’d be on my way to Germany, or already there settling in for a stint working on a second graduate degree. Not homeless, staying at a friend’s place, short one cat, trying to save my belongings in storage.

I wouldn’t believe you if you told me that’s where I’d be right now. But here I am. My degree is on hold, waiting for my appeal to eliminate the tuition and fees owed from Spring term when I dropped out due to the eviction and other stressors. The eviction, losing JoJo, the constant frustration of job hunting and trying to find funds for storage and basic supplies like cat food and litter (I’ve now created a separate Amazon wishlist for Portia’s supplies)… it’s all taken a massive toll on me.

I do sometimes feel like I’m screaming into a void… asking for help… applying for jobs… trying to do pretty much anything. It does feel like there’s no one out there listening. I wish I could get confirmation that people are hearing me… seeing me… and trying their best to help. Very few people on FB are sharing the campaign… which is frustrating at best.

Now my goal is for Fall of 2018 for Germany. But there are so many other little things… well, little compared to moving to Germany, that is.

  • Being able to go to #GeekGirlCon in Seattle again (and having enough funds to buy stuff and have fun)
  • Having a decent job where I can then have money in savings as well as being able to pay debts and move into a new place of my very own. I appreciate my friends for putting me up… but I really do need my own space…
  • Take a few road trips that I’ve been putting off due to a lack of funds and car.
    • John Day Fossil Beds and the Painted Hills…
    • Crater Lake
    • CA Redwoods (not just passing through)

Those are a few things. I’ve also been itching to go to Alpenfest out in NE Oregon… also have enough money together to get my passport and apply for my second citizenship for Switzerland… yes, I’m eligible due to a straight paternal line dating back to the early 1600’s (as well as one lady was able to track)

I also wanted to get my next book out, get the anthology going, write more, art more, etc…

But eviction stopped me in my tracks.

It stopped me from functioning. From living. From finishing school. It dragged me deeper into the abyss of depression. My anxiety is worse. My C-PTSD is a royal bitch… to where I cringe even touching someone on the train.

I’m doing better for now… but that abyss still has a pretty good hold on me. I’m taking Celexa… but even that only gets me so far. I need to make improvements. Will they solve everything? No. But they will help.

The frustration of needing more cat food and litter and Bast Only Knows, a covered litter box for Portia (she’s trying to dig into the earth’s core, I swear… and litter goes everywhere). If it were possible to keep things more local for her supplies by someone buying a Mud Bay gift card or something… they just opened another one this past weekend and it’s a couple of MAX stops away. I know a lot of folks hate Amazon. Her food is cheaper at MB than on Amazon. I’m not kidding.

I’m sitting here in a quiet house, petsitting the house feline (she really does like me… even lets me pet her head, which she rarely lets anyone do… she was abused early on before they adopted her), as well as having Portia around… just wish they’d get along.

Here’s her Amazon wishlist... in case anyone feels up to helping… although storage also still needs help. I can’t risk losing everything I own.

I’m just… well, if you’ve ever been anywhere near the kind of situation I’m in this year, you might understand how I feel. Everything is up in the air. The loss of any control of my life is maddening.

Some friends call me brave… I’m just mucking through life… barely holding on. I may smile or even laugh at things… but inside, I’m screaming.

~A

Posted in activism, bigotry, community, crowdfunding, empath life, faith, life, peace, poetry, politics, sexuality, storage, writing

8/14: Tears

Words fly.
Flames threaten from
One side of the barricade.
The other keeping the flames of
Hate
At bay.
God sheds a tear
Still so much hate
Division.
Violence.
Fear.
Anger.
Messengers of peace
Ignored or
Killed, even.
No one is
Superior or Inferior.
Skin.
Gender.
Sexuality.
Disability.
Equals
But not treated
As equals.
Another tear shed.
The rain is proof of that.

~A

Posted in artsy stuff, creativity, crowdfunding, life, storage, writing

8/12: Why I Write (and #crowdfunding)

(yes, still needing help with storage. Time is running out here. Any help is appreciated.)

I enjoy many types of creative endeavors, but the one I always come back to is writing. Whether it’s fiction or poetry, I dig in and enjoy every word.

So, the deadline for our Alzheimer’s charity anthology, The Longest Night Watch, is looming on Tuesday. I, of course, have totally spaced out and forgotten about it until now. Well, yesterday. Early this morning, a scene came to mind and some tidbits of what the story might entail tagged along behind it. Once we had the yard sale set up, I brought my computer out and worked on it while also chatting with potential customers.

In writing fiction, I’m what we call in NaNoWriMo a “Pantser.” I come up with an initial idea and gradually the characters take over and WHEEEE!!!! I’m just trying to keep up with them as they tell their story. With short pieces, they have to take over a lot faster. In my novellas, it’s more like about 15-20 pages in.

Bradbury, King, and many others also tend to write like this (or in the case of those who are gone, they did write like this). I’m not alone in using this method.

** On a side note, I also got to read a review of our first volume where the person broke down her review with comments on each story. She loved mine as it was a reminder of why we’re doing this labor of love. None of us make any money off of it. All proceeds go to Alzheimer’s research. This is our third year. We started it after Terry Pratchett died.

So one of the reasons I love to write is how I let my characters take over the story. I’m just along for the ride. Sometimes, like today, the ride switches and goes down an alternate track… one I didn’t expect. I’m not done with the story. I enjoy the journey they take me on. I breathe a little life into them and then they lead me on what can be a wild ride.

At the end of the yard sale today, I wrapped up, brought my computer inside and went back out to help clean up. When I closed the laptop, I realized I had stopped at a turning point. Where I thought the story would go… well, it isn’t going there. The MC, an elderly woman, is hinting that she may not be all that is believed she is. A twist. A different track. I don’t know how long this will be. I do know I want to go back and add some filler around the dialogue. I tend to write dialogue and forget the exposition… the descriptions. I’ll finish the dialogue tonight and then go back tomorrow and fill things in.

I love telling stories. Simple as that. I love where my characters take me. I love minimalism… giving readers just enough and then letting them use their imaginations to fill in the blanks. I create miniature worlds for readers to explore.

This is why I write.

~APA

Posted in creativity, Personal, poetry, writing

7/23: dissecting my poetry

This will be quick as I’m fighting a migraine and am using mobile. 

Much of my poetry is train-of-thought. I rarely edit it at all. I also should know better than to title it before finishing it. Last night’s poem is one of those. I didn’t expect the “character” of Regret to take it over. 

The rare times I edit my poems is when I read it out loud and I stumble over the phrasing or a word. But I tend to let my poetry be a raw glimpse into… well, whatever my mind wants to reveal. 

I sometimes read them to my therapist. She’s fascinated by them. I know they can open up discussions. I find they help me find things within myself that I normally wouldn’t notice or bother with… 

~A

Posted in creativity, depression, peace, poetry, politics, writing

6/10: The Prize

The envelope torn.
The card blank.
No winner.
No loser.
No one left
To claim a prize
No one bothered
To save.

The circle continues.
Fire
Fueling
Fire.
No one
Stops.
The prize.
Chemical hate.
No one gets the prize.

The envelope burns.
The card long turned
To ash.
No losers left
To be the
Runner up.
Skies changed.
No going back.

APA 2017

Posted in creativity, paranormal, poetry, writing

5/22: The Room

My eyes cannot
Adjust to the
Darkness.
The room is
Cold.
Empty.
Like those who
Put me in
Here.
I felt them despite the
Blindfold.
No empathy.
No warmth.
Cold.
Empty.
I have felt my way
Around the perimeter.
I know not
Where the door is.
It cannot be felt.
They think
I
Can be
Broken.
Not all of
My kind
Are social creatures.
This was their mistake.
I am
One
With the darkness
That surrounds me.
Let them try.
They will not win.

~Amanda