Cognitive Dissonance

Posted: December 26, 2013 in Uncategorized

There are so many voices screaming in my head, resounding from every neuron and bone structure they can find. Demanding, accusing, reprimanding, asking, pleading, sobbing. My brain expands and contorts, writhing and cringing in pain.


As a snake molts its skin, so too does the self with its adolescent identity. Separation from blood, from given name, from proscribed expectations hung upon the self by that bizarrely dysfunctional unit of family. It’s a sink or swim scenario, are you strong enough to follow your unique individual heart over the heart of the family, a group of people you fraternize with not by choice but by the unlucky draw of the hat that you were born into them. Oftentimes, the only real similarities one shares with the majority of their families are similar DNA and seats at the same table in the human genome.


My brain rejects these broad generalizations. My whole self is loath to me. My mind is being torn apart, fragmenting from a searing, white hot epicenter right in the heart of my identity.


I am a fish out of water, I have no lungs with which to draw breath. I can feel the skin beneath my scales shriveling, drying out, flaking away. It is an emotional draw-and-quartering. I am stuck at my childhood home, celebrating a holiday I don’t believe in. The part of my family I’m stuck with, homophobic and misogynistic, lives square in the bible belt where conceal and carry is legal and that jackass from Duck Dynasty has been all but canonized. I am a black sheep, hidden behind a cloak of cotton balls to keep myself safe. “Queers deserve death, it says so in the bible,” they say. Here I am, am I to expect mercy or are you ready to burn the witch?


Meanwhile, my best friend, one of the great loves of my life, is spending Christmas in the hospital. Instead of being there with him, where my heart, head, and loyalty tell me I should be, I’m stuck 900 miles away, surrounded by death, hatred, and bigotry.


Everything hurts, nothing feels right, and it is taking all of the strength I have in my mind, body, and soul to keep from falling apart.


Rally for Lamont

It is absolutely atrocious that in this day and age, HIV status will prevent needing and dying people from being placed on the registry for organ transplants. This man was murdered by New York Presbyterian Hospital and their outdated policies on organ transplants among those with managed HIV+ status. Fight back. 

Link  —  Posted: December 15, 2013 in Uncategorized
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Over the last few weeks, a large amount of potential energy has been set in motion. This, of course, terrifies me, but I have been so terribly exhausted lately that I’ve allowed myself to grow cynical and complacent. In my world, cynicism is a one-way ticket to loneliness and complacency can lead only to death.

Thank the gods that I believe in silver linings in the face of preventable pain. I’m still standing and I’m back with a vengeance. I’ve done several inventories and compiled a list of idiosyncrasies and fears, things I shouldn’t have to hide anymore. Interestingly, many of these words happen to begin with the letter f, and I’m always a fan of gallows humor.

Part One:


Family is one of those words with a million experience-based connotations. For some, it brings to mind the typical “American Dream” family that our heteronormative society sells for pennies on the dollar: suburbanite, white picket fence, 2.5 kids, homemaker trophy wife, bread-winning man, and a dog named Spike. Others see, in their mind’s eye the statistic that fifty percent of marriages end in divorce, and recall the heinous effects broken homes have on children. It can even bring the reminder that we’re born alone and inevitably die alone.

For me, family is being ten years old and coming home from a bad day at school. Kids can be ruthless creatures, and I was constantly tormented for my intelligence and my weight; ten was around the time that the accusations began to fly, that I was the worst thing ten year old girls can think of: a lesbian. Many of my family members were not much better. “You’re the spawn of Satan for reading that,” they said about my Harry Potter book. My third concussion couldn’t exempt me from sports I hated, my books were taken from me and replaced with copies of Seventeen, Teen Vogue, or Cosmo magazine. “You’re fat and ugly and no one will ever love you.” I was twelve.

In my experience, family equals censorship. Even with those members of my family that didn’t actively seek to hurt me or despise me for what I represented, expected a specific face. Family means having to hide the crush I have on the girl I have class with on Monday mornings, that I’m not a Catholic. Family is constantly having to wear the mask of whoever my family wants to see, just to shield myself from the abuse. Family is stifling, limiting, dangerous. Family means hiding whatever colors I have in my soul and bringing them to neutral, not to make waves, not to incite anger or hatred.

Family is the expectation that you should be married with kids by twenty. That your ambition is antagonistic to the sanctity of family. Family is what makes you one of the few girls in your graduating class without a long term partner or a baby. Family is an analogous unit, rife with the mob mentality that terrifies me. In my delusions, my fantasies, my fictions as a child, family was the one place I could be myself without fear or abuse. I wanted a new family, and often dreamt up new ones.

In recent weeks, this paradigm has been shifting. Family is something else, something I haven’t fully defined yet, and that ambiguity itself is terrifying. I guess all I really know is that families: real families, not those connected by something as inane and petty as blood, always say thank you.

The Dream Is Dead

Posted: November 9, 2013 in Uncategorized
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As shadows fade with the rising sun, 
so too does the monster.

Poison does a body good,
to detox is to surrender to the darkness,
abysmal, fiery chasm in the mind.

The replacement piece of a completed jigsaw
discarded, unnecessary.
The death of dreams is inevitable.

It’s NaNo time,  I’m sorry I’ve been such a shitty blogger. I’ll be back in far better force in December!


Posted: October 24, 2013 in Uncategorized
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Finally, escape
tired, hardened, sobbing, done

Betrayal most foul.

Hope is discovered
In the darkest of times
if one makes the light.


I’m moving soon. It’s getting more than slightly annoying how often I move from one place to another. Since I moved to New York in August 2011, I have lived at four separate addresses. I move not for wanderlust or ennui with neighborhoods or people. In fact, one of the major reasons I moved to this cosmopolis was to find a place I could call home and feel comfortable in a living space. To discover people and places I could choose to spend some amount of time with.

I won’t go into why the three previous establishments wend bad; I ask only for your positive vibes and well-wishes for my newest abode.


much love, l

Missing the Point

Posted: October 23, 2013 in Uncategorized

This is beautiful. Read this, mull it over. It may change your life.

Random Moments of Epiphany

Some of the most horrible atrocities in history have been committed in the name of God. Does this mean we should vilify God?

Some pretty unspeakable acts have been done in service to the greater good. Does this mean we should vilify the greater good?

Some of the worst crimes against humanity have been committed in service to selfish ambition. Does this mean we should vilify ourselves?

I’ve done some pretty bad things because I felt something too strongly and lost control. Does that mean I should vilify feelings?

Like I said, there’s a lot of villains out there.

Again, I think the problem comes from a lack of consistency in thought, feeling, word, and deed, and a failure to accurately express what exactly it is that we are trying to do.

Jesus preached peace, love, and acceptance. Pretty good ideas, right? So naturally we should hate, condemn, and kill…

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Rape in the Media

Posted: October 14, 2013 in Uncategorized
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Read the rest of this entry »

NaNoWriMo begins in nineteen days. While I may not be starting anything from scratch (yeah, WriMo rebel, come at me), there’s still tremendous pressure in the few days leading up to the event. I’m about 20,000 words into my novel, and being 70,000 by the end of November would put me pretty close to done with it, which would be amazing. I haven’t completed a novel in nigh on five years and it’s really incredibly frustrating. Sure, I’m an adult now and have adult worries and cares to attend to, but still. I want to be successful, gods damn it!

In other news, my life seems to be going rather smoothly at this moment in time. There’s even an attractive person who seems fairly interesting. My job’s going well, school’s going well.

Also, I’ve begun a couple of other blogs for your viewing pleasure.

My professional writing blog can be found at, and my magical blog can be found at  Feel free to check them out and follow them also.


xoxo, A

This past Friday, October fourth, I turned twenty. Typically, people rejoice at the prospect of being that much closer to full-on adulthood and celebrate with booze and bad decisions, thrilled by a reinforced sense of personal agency. I spent the day in deep reflection, considering over and over how it was possible that I actually made it to the two decade mark.

Last year on my birthday, it was pure serendipity, synchronicity, even, that I was prevented from ending my life. It would have been my fourth suicide attempt. The fact that I’m here is, in a lot of ways, miraculous. The past year was incredibly…confusing. The ups and downs were enough to drive the sanest and bravest people completely out of their skulls. I’ve been used, abused, loved, saved, and taught. I don’t think I’d have it any other way. For the first time in my life, the positives have outweighed the negatives. While I’m not happy, I’m more than content to live.

I’ve made significant progress in the treatment of my mental illnesses, my spirituality, my work, and my overall well-being. But it’s not enough, of course. It’s never enough. My dreams have not yet been fulfilled, I am still overweight and my head is positively buzzing with characters and stories. I have wasted enough time ignoring them. No longer.

I will be participating in NaNoWriMo this November, visiting Prospect Park every week, exercising most days per week, practicing yoga every day, and stop wasting so much time. I have potential to do things, and I’ll never do anything if I don’t start now.

*Flourish of trumpets*


xoxo, L