Drop Dead Reader

There is a whisper in the wind that tells of an old friend. Someone who is missed above all else. Silent and unseen, the words tumble to and fro. Going ignored by those who are meant to see.

Dearest Reader,

I am a work in progress. I allow my world to rule me. I allow the actions of others to decide my fate. This is something I have always done, it is all I really know.

I try my hardest to change but I just keep making excuses to stay the same. For that I deeply sorry. Dearest reader I will not promise to change, because I know that at this moment I can’t, but I do promise to get better. To be better than all of this.

I want to write stories that change the world. And I can, I just need to change myself first.

So here I go. A step in a direction I do not know. Wish me luck dearest reader. I will need it.



I find that writing prompts and challenges can sometimes help a person get into the habit of writing at a constant rate.  

Sadly when things happen, such as an illness, getting back into the pattern of things can be difficult. Often times it damn near impossible.

Last month I participated in a writing challege and was going strong till I not only got sick, but I had also gone to visit friends. 

It was so hard to start writing again. Sure I could have just wrote down anything yet it wouldn’t have fit my theme. My theme being questions and answers (stated for those who probably couldn’t tell). 
So this time I will doing random writing prompts and stalking Pinterest boards for things to help me get in the writing mood again. 

Todays prompt is quite interesting. 

I am not sure how I will go about writing it but I will try my best to keep it engaging. 


Lucky me

Good luck!

Simple phrase yet  brings a smile to my face. 

Makes me think that I have a chance. 

That I can actually win!
Good luck!

Break a leg

Don’t worry, you will do great 

Such faith

You have in me

Such well wishes 

In my ability 

It will be ok!

Go get ’em tiger

Oh what words

Such a phrase

That brings a still smile to my face

Makes me wish I have a chance

That my ability could bring me the win.

Bless me

I say words I don’t mean

I hold on to things that no longer bring me joy

I try to taste the past out of reach




Better days.

Bless me cause I can’t breathe

Keep striving for different things

But matter will never change

Bless me and hope for better days.

I love to write but it doesn’t mean that it is always going to sound good.

Not everything I write will win a reward. Some things will be damn near cringe worthy. Still…I write.

I write because it brings me joy. I write because it is the one gift I have to pass on to my baby girl.

I write to make you think and feel.

I write because it is the only way to show I am here.

Excuse me whilst I rant

I had a really really bad episode that lasted a few days. Maybe even a week, I am not to sure. So I decided to send some links to someone to help them understand me better. Well that was idea until I ran across this lovely article that…well…it pissed me the freak off.
This site is, Mental Health America, said a few things that set me off a bit.

See it started off extremely insulting

What is Borderline Personality Disorder?

The symptoms of Borderline Personality Disorder can be summarized as instability in mood, thinking, behavior, personal relations, and self-image. Individuals with the disorder may:

demand constant attention and make unreasonable demandsavoid being alone by acting out a crisis or dramatizing a problem

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha no.
See I am an adult and what they are describing is the toddler nect to me who is currently upset and crying because she didn’t get to eat more then one gummy vitamin. 
Not an adult who struggles with reality and sometimes does or says things to correct said reality. Who feels way to much or not at all. Who is afraid of being alone even if they person they want most is just in the next room. They are not some clingy girlfriend that demands you log your whereabouts every tens minutes.  They are people who constantly worry about you every tens minutes though. Who have to fight the urge to check up on you every few hours, because if they do, they feel like they are bugging you.
They are not some child lying their way unto mommies good side ( No she isn’t getting any more vitamins, I refuse to clean that blowout if I was to give her more)
It is someone who tries their hardest to please someone because they are afraid of them leaving. They are afraid that their true self, what ever that is, will not be enough for someone. So they hide. They create a different version of themselves. They hide in the shadows for so long that it becomes reality.
Not everyone does that though, lie that is, some are capable of expressing how they feel. Those feelings tend to be high though. What feels like a papercut is not an arm being chopped off.

Despite that my all time favorite is this

histrionic personality – self-dramatizing, self-indulgent, demanding, excitable, vain
narcissistic personality – intolerant of criticism, self-important, lacking in empathy, envious, constantly demanding special favors
antisocial personality- callous, reckless, impulsive, irritable, deceitful, and emotionally shallow.

Your basic psycho right!???

So this person who wrote this is basically making BPD put to be this horrible thing and that people who have it are the lowest of the low.
Which is strange because although our emotions are an extreme high many of us are way way empathic.  Which means we feel for others way to much and out them before ourselves. I won’t even eat unless my daughter has had at least two meals. Yes I starve myself till dinner so that I know my daughter really does have enough to eat.
Envious? I want a dog really bad. I got jealous at a couple next door because they can have one and I can’t.  Hell yea I cry but I talked to someone else who doesn’t have BPD. Guess what she did for years cause she couldn’t have a dog. She cried about it from time to time. We love animals. Guess that makes me not only envious but vain because I compared myself to her.
This pisses me off and just goes to prove just how much things need to change. How much BPD needs to have more recognizition. But don’t take my word for it. I am deceitful, remember?

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The preacher heard me prayers
Asking for my sins to fly away
Forgive me Lord and everyone
Know that I have faults
For I am a sinners son
Preacher heard me lie that day
He knew sin wasn’t done
He sat there with a smirk
Knowing I wasn’t the only one
I yelled and praised as all before me
Sundays best clothed me
The preacher heard my praise in vain
Cause he knew I would sin again
Once the day was over
I went outside with all the rest
Went home that day
And stabbed my father in the chest
Preacher could see it in my eyes
So it came to no surprise
He felt the world had wronged me so
So held my hand throughout the day
Whispered evil deeds in my ear
Came to no surprise you see
To the church, those who were forced to grieve
The preacher wasn’t a



Such a shame he passed that day