Every year we make jokes about all the people trying to set goals for themselves throughout the coming year.  The memes are endless.  It’s not bad to set goals for yourself, it’s just, most people never stick too it.  They go hard at it for a few days maybe weeks and eventually the thrill of a new year wears of and they fall back into old habits.  It’s easy to fall back- trust me, I know.  The resolutions are always something big like a change in diet or exercising more or breaking a bad habit- it doesn’t last for everyone.

To each his own.

I wrote a blog at the beginning of 2015 talking about all this.  About how I like who i was becoming and was striving to be better.  And, if you scroll back to that post, the picture i used for that one is exactly what happened to me that year.  I was beaten.

At the beginning of 2016 I decided that my one and only goal was to be a better person- a happier person.  If I didn’t like the way I was at the end of 2016 I’d carry on that goal into the new year.  My goal was limitless.  It meant that I had to find that determination, imagination and perseverance that I once had- I could feel it slipping away from me.  It meant I had to stay humble while being vocal and knowing when to stand up for myself.  It meant I had to control my rage and understand that feeling sad wasn’t a sign of weakness; I’m only human.  Being a better me meant that I had to step up and stop waiting for the world to understand.  It meant… It meant so much to me.

The past week made me realize that I’d really stuck to my goal right until the end.  The person I am today compared the person I was on January 1st 2016 well, they’re like two complete different people.  That person had lost her inspiration but I’ve found it again and I’m working on my second and third book.  That person was loosing the will to do anything, but now I find a way even if i only have an hour.  That person felt like she was the only person on the planet who cared, if even at all, for her… now, i spend several days and nights a week with at least five people I know that care.

How did I go from one to the other?  I honestly couldn’t even tell you when it all started to change.  It feels like it was all over night (and it sort of was), but I know people don’t just change overnight.  I must have done something different along the way.  All I knew was that I was done being that tired person.  I know who I am now- it took damn long to figure out, but I do.  I also know what I want to become.

My point here- If you’re making a new year’s resolution, let it be something meaningful.  Nothing superficial; not something you randomly thought of on a drunken New Year’s eve night.  Let it be something that makes you smile every time you think back to where you were and how far you’ve come.

Link to the 2015 post.  I know, they’re kind of similar.  On another note, the one good thing I did in 2015 was step into the world of Harry Potter. The fangirl in me is strong; you can tell by all the unnecessary collectable items I keep buying.

We Won’t Drown


One day, someday, depends on today
Krystal Cyrus

It feels like living isn’t worth it…
It feels like it’s too hard to go on and giving up is far from being easier…
It’s like being in a constant state of indecision…
It feels lonely…
It feels like drowning…

It’s scary, not knowing where you’ll end up, but…

Adulthood is realizing you’d rather stay home and be comfortable doing nothing.
Adulthood is when you learn to pick your battles.
Adulthood is figuring out how to make the most out of the least.
Adulthood is accepting that you need that bus home or that gas money more than that slice of pizza.
Adulthood is making your own doctors appointment.
Adulthood is understanding the purpose behind failure.
Adulthood is being able to rise together rather than pushing each other down.
Adulthood is accepting that we won’t grow old with everyone we grew up with.

Adulthood is the wisdom we’ll have when we grow old.


Your Ketchup Is My Napkin

Im the napkin now

Adulthood is like looking both ways before crossing the street- and then getting hit by an airplane

She peeps around the corner strands of hair reveals her.  I saw her there, but I didn’t.

One more hour and I’m out of this hell hole.  Yes!  I couldn’t wait to go home and do all the nothing I had planned.  The manager asked if I could stay an extra two hours and I still can’t believe I said yes.  My body didn’t like eight hour shifts, but my bank account was absolutely ecstatic.  Maybe it was my bank account that said yes.

Now I see her completely: pink vest, jeans, pigtails- not like Dudley’s in Harry Potter- and a cowering frame.  She sits back in her seat for the umpteenth time.  Once, I made eye contact with her, but like before I barely registered.

I have an essay due and nothing prepared.  Maybe I can wing it- I’m good at that.  I have to do laundry: this was my last not-so-clean shirt.  Oh crap!  Did I pay my phone bill?!

I stop gazing for half a second to see the older friend urging her from her seat again.  Kids are so restless; this is why I will never have children.  The manager walks by behind me and I grab my damp blue cloth and wipe the counter halfheartedly- I’m working.  I brew coffee and restock cups trying to look busy.  I need extra large cups, but I swear to God if they pop out of the holder one more time I’ll throw them all in the trash.  I get paid tomorrow so I couldn’t care less.

I turn around for a stack of cups under the counter and she is standing on the other side- horrified.  I can see her heart beat through her eyes.  Startled.  Where did she come from?  Is she okay?  I am alert now.


Did she say something?  She’s so quiet.  I strain my ears over the hustle and bustle, bang and clang of the kitchen behind me.

“Can… can-I-have-some-ketchup-please?”  She asks timidly polite.

“Yeah, no problem.”

I glide across the restaurant to grab two packets of ketchup.  It’s all muscle memory- duck here, side step there, pause here so I don’t get burned.  Do the same thing over and over everyday and eventually you can fill a cup of coffee with your eyes closed and not get burned.

“Here,” I smile brightly.  “Enjoy.”

“Thank you.”

She moves briskly back to her table and I saw her shoulders relax.  A bright, proud smile winning the battle to stay on her face.  The kind of smile one gives after accomplishing something big and pretending its no big deal.  Was she afraid to approach me?  What was she afraid of?  I wasn’t going to tell her no.  It was only ketchup- not half my leg and a free bagel with cream cheese and the ever so expensive bacon.  Suddenly I was visualizing a time when I was nine and afraid to ask the lady in KFC for some napkins.  I’d prefer to go home looking a mess over asking her.  Why wouldn’t my mom just do it?  Now, eleven years later, I am the big scary adult behind the counter.  The cycle continues I see.  I chuckle quietly.

What was I afraid of?

In Due Time

In Due Time

Innocence surrounds them.

Innocence and anxiousness.



And the world continues to circulate.

Birds flutter hurriedly along, wings so fast you can hardly see them.

The bikers ride by on dancing trails either for the exercise or for the view.

Walkers and talkers.

The trees stand tall and strong their leaves rustle as if mad at the wind for rattling their peace.

Children play.


Noise of a world not frozen.

Noise of a world going on.


But over by the somewhat murky pond that the ducks have claimed their own stands a brown bench.

A bench with black handles so peeled that the grey of the iron beneath seems the primary colour.

A bench whose wooden back is missing a piece of its frame.

On this bench they sit in a world separate from mine.

Eyes full of love, but bodies timid as the space between them gets lesser, lesser, lesser…


I look away allowing them a moment alone in their world as mine bustled on.

Grenada Day


Start by doing what’s necessary; then do what’s possible; and suddenly your doing the impossible. 

Francis of Assisi

As kids we have so much we want to do. Our dreams and aspirations change daily. Or at least that what it seems like for most kids. It was never that way for me. I was always sure about what I wanted. I knew that I wanted to write stories and have them known and loved worldwide. I knew that I wanted my stories to be more than just ‘stories’. I wanted to inspire. I’d been saying this before I could even properly write. It was this thought, this idea, this dream that pushed me to becoming the author of my first book- The Enigmatics.
As you know I had my first book published as of December 2014. Ever since everyone has been making a big deal about the fact that I was so young and I had accomplished ‘so much’. I couldn’t see it that way. I didn’t see what they saw.
I kept thinking, “I’m nineteen. All I did was publish a book. I could have done so much more.”
Even my mom thought I was crazy because to her I had already done ‘so much’. I just couldn’t see it. I’d been working hard to promote my book and get it into stores. I can now officially say it’s in the Whitby Public Library in Canada and the Art and Soul bookstore in Grenada.
But Saturday…
I went to Grenada Day with 14 books, 20 business cards and a mind set for disaster. I was supposed to sell myself. How do I do that? I was supposed to be charismatic. In my head I think I can pull that off, but can I really? My friends seem to like me. Then again, I took time to get to know them. I had no clue who I was going to meet today. When I got there I found that I’d be alongside two other authors. Great! They’re going to show me up! I wasn’t sure if I could do it at all.
“Don’t try to sell. Just talk.” My uncle said to me. Honestly that was the best piece of advice I could have gotten that day.
It started out slow. People would walk by and I’d say ‘hello’ and they wouldn’t respond. I’d ask if they wanted to hear about my book and they’d refuse. Meanwhile the other authors had already sold 4 books each. I still had 14. Can I go home now? I’ll be completely honest I had given up on trying to talk to people to the point where I started asking the other authors for advice.
Just make small talk…
After that this lady walked up and we started talking about Grenada Day. Next thing I knew I had money in my hand and she was walking away with a book I had autographed. Aha! So that’s how it works! From then things just took off on their own. I was talking to everybody. I collected a few business cards and gave a few away. Not to mention I sold quite a few books. On top of that the reaction of every customer I sold to when I said I was the author was really a kodak moment. My favorite part of the day was when this young girl and her dad came by. They didn’t ask any questions or say much.
She just pointed at my book and said, “Daddy I want this.” He bought it.
I asked for her name to autograph it and they both gave me this strange look wondering why I would do that. Then they trailed off to the side not far from my table. The girl kept flipping through the pages blank faced the whole time until she got to the far back on the ‘about the author’ page. The she tapped her dad and showed him something. To be honest I was kind of worried they’d come back and ask for a refund or something. But then both of them turned back and just looked at me and then at my picture at the back and had this shocked look on their face. That was when I realized. They had no clue they just spoke to the author of the book.
That was all that happened, but for some reason that was the part I remember most vividly about Saturday. I’d never had that happen to me before. I was so happy that when it was time to pack up I actually shed a tear. Why? I finally understood what the ‘so much’ everyone kept talking about was. I finally understood that yes, I was nineteen, but I wasn’t just sitting on my ass waiting for things to happen to me. I finally realized that not many people my age can say they made their childhood dream a reality. But I could. Because, at 8:30pm on the 22nd of August 2015 I finally realized that I was living my dream.

I hope this story is an inspiration to all my readers.  Nothing is impossible.  You just have to want something bad enough to make it hapen.

Broken Hearts


For everything worth having one must pay the ultimate price and the price is always love, self sacrifice and patience.

For everything worth having one must pay the ultimate price and the price is always love, self sacrifice and patience.
We all know what this is. When you care for someone so much that you’re completely vulnerable to their touch. Then when you think you’re safe, when you think they’ll only touch you they poke you where it hurts. That’s the worst kind of pain; the kind that can’t be healed by doctors and medicine or over any short period of time. It’s the kind of pain that you just can’t pin; the kind of pain that leaves you with the biggest scar of your life yet only you can see it. That type of pain is the worst. So to deal you build walls. You put up four corner wall plus glass as a protective barrier to make sure this never happens again and lie in fear of the day that someone might actually break through. It’s a lonely place inside those four walls. You have to keep reminding yourself that you’re doing it to protect yourself and you’re doing it so that you never have to know such pain again. It’s silly, because it’s not like the wall is some sort of remedy. No, all it does is cage the pain, pressure and frustration. Now you’re alone in this four corner wall suffering silently trying to convince yourself that all is right. The wounds will never fully heal in there. They may seem alright, but the slightest move and they’re open again stinging just as much of the first time. You can’t do this to yourself. It can’t work that way. We can’t shut out the world expecting to heal ourselves. We were not made to be alone. The world is made up of diverse people and there is somebody for everybody. Maybe that wound may not be healable by a doctor, but there’s that one person out there who’ll know all the right things to do. Don’t go searching so much that you add more heart ache on top of the one you already can’t bear. It’s ok to keep your guard up, but you need to know when the coast is clear to trust.

Making Decisions

Makign Decisions

Decisions are the hardest things to make; especially when its a choice between where you should be and where you want to be.


It’s funny how one minute you can feel like you’re on top of the world and the next you come crashing down into harsh reality. One minute you’re making decisions and thinking it’s the best way to go because you thought it all the way through. The next you’re wondering why the hell you came across this in the first place. Then you’re wondering if you made a mistake when one minute ago you were so sure of yourself. Making decisions. That’s a scary thought. At least I think it is because you never know whether your making the right one or the wrong one. You never know if what you planned is going to work out even when you have everything perfectly mapped out and you think you know where your going. Then if you get overwhelmed by the negatives you just want to give up and not do anything yourself. You’re wishing you could go back to that time when decisions were made for you. Your wondering if your just going to screw up your life one bad decision after a next. That’s how one starts to fear making decisions. They fear it because they fear the unknown. At the same time what if it was a good decision. What if because you refuse to make a decision and take a risk you miss out on a great opportunity.

Making decisions.

That’s the tough part about being an adult. You can’t run from that though; it kind of comes with the age, you know. Plus if you don’t mess up at least once how would you learn, right? I’m not going to lie, messing up sucks. But go on and make mistakes. Just don’t make the same one twice.