• Life,  Poetry,  Writing

    What Dreams May Come…

    It seems my words may be coming back. I woke up crying from a dream I don’t remember and the first four lines of this in my head. After ย ten continuing minutes, and ultimate uselessness in trying to go back to sleep, the grinding gears inside my head refused to shut up, so up I got and you are the lucky recipient of something new. I don’t know what it was that upset me in the dream but I still feel as if I’ve suffered a loss. Just so you know, everything is otherwise fine here at Chez Lunatic. But I am definitely going to stop snacking close to bedtime.…

  • #BeReal,  1000 Voices Speak For Compassion

    #BeReal

    Today I get Real and Personal over on Hastywords. She was kind enough to post my #BeReal and what that means to me. It was hard to talk about and under normal circumstances, I don’t open up to people to this extent. But some things need to be heard, and I hope I can make a difference. So go check it out. Thanks. xo Jesi 00

  • Blog,  Uncategorized,  Writing

    When Research Goes Awry, Or Why I Am About To Turn Into A Salt Water Puddle

    I’ve begun doing some research for a short story due the middle of this month. I’ve got the story started but I’m trying to get into my character’s psyche. Which isn’t really all that hard, but I’m trying to understand her because she isn’t me. My story is completely different from her’s though we have one thing in common: despair. This leads to anxiety and mild depression for me. For Janet, it will lead to something darker. Obviously, this is not going to be a happy story. So what kind of research am I doing? Lots and lots of reading. Tuesday I spent an hour at the library and came…

  • Poetry

    Her Dark Friend

    For my girl, interrupted (you know who you are) That Way Lies Madness By Jesi Scott   She cuts to bleed the pain out Because it hurts too much to keep in her flesh-covered prison- Some souls were never meant to bear such weight; her mind betrays and kidnaps her emotions, holds them hostage to its irrational musings (youโ€™re horrible, no one likes you really, youโ€™re a piece of shit, a fraud, you bring disaster to everyone you meet, no one would like you if they really knew you)   And the voices of reason, hope, and love Are hard to hear over the seductive words the terrorist whispers to…