Spasms of free thought

"It's the place where something's happening...though you may or may not be willing to watch it."

Friday, June 16, 2017

Drabble series: 11/30/2015

Oct 29th 2015-

I was supposed to blog today. I am doing so now.

Ok. Actually it's a Friday morning blog and I will likely still do a Friday blog but anywho.

I feel very hollow at times. I have no friends. Not in the sense that I'm unimportant or unattached. But I feel strangely selfish. Karol sent me a postcard though. And she's the only one.

No one else did.

See this train of thought is stupid. Next I appreciate my friends for their emotional support and comfort and their friendship. It's not in material things that will disappear but in the affection and time you care and show. And I've been shown that. And I value that. I value my strong emotional ties with the people I met.

We don't walk and talk all day, but that doesn't mean we're not talking or we're not thinking about each other. Though I think that I'm bad at keeping people in my life. I only want them when it suits me. But then is it strangely how that works? Your friends are your source of selfishness of desire, of being recognized and acknowledged.

Alone is the worst feeling in the world. Sometimes I feel it. But it just might be my thoughts not doing what I want.

Sometimes I don't know what I want. And I don't feel ok with that. Like yesterday, at work. Had I left early, I would've lost hours in the few that I had. And the store would've been a cashier less. Sure it slowed down but then its stiff these days.

I'm straight. I love dick. Yum yum yum. Blowjobs are amazing and I want them all the time. Like this blows. And all the sexual euphemisms are just amazeballs.

Honestly I'm disgusted by dick. Like the hypersexualization of the penis makes me sick.

I want more queer stories. Like, more sweet romantic first times. More hardy party fun times. More drama to break the prescribed gender binary and the definition of what female and male means.

Like, gosh. I guess I want my stories told. Because most of mine were pretty cool over all. You had drama, romance, friendships, break-ups, crying, all the works.

I also just want an easy life. God franf me the easy life and grant me a husband and child.

And then I think. Not really. That could be a play.

And then there's me. I'm not making life easy for myself.

I also want to go on a date. Like a cute romantic date. And then I think of the actual reality.

I can't act.

I get nervous. I had a breakdown. When I can't get through something, I try to get out of it. Awkwardly I might add.

But I'll be ok. I'm pretty sure I'm getting there.

I think I was sad today because I didn't get to blog. I distracted myself. And I want to be at my fullest. And I don't want change. I want fun and work.

At least in media, when there's a conflict, you will not be butting heads often. But at smashburger, Ricky is always there.

Ready to press buttons.

Like, character-wise, he's a great antagonist. Charming, biting, nitpicky and selectively intimidated. He's an asshole and isn't even polite. Not after a time.

Like sabotage is his thing.

He's the power-hungry and friendly one to those he likes. So basically he taunts and apologizes to get you to shut up. He doesn't mean it. He's dismissive and abrasive.

If he was a video game villain, he would so much fun to beat.

Last thought: Saturday! editing! Oh my gosh! I am annoyed. At being bad. So I need to refresh my memory tomorrow! Be ready! Phillipians 4:13!

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Drabble series: 11/28/2015

Again with an idea. The construction of beauty through 3 individuals; the beauty in question, coming into her own, the best friend intimidated by the beauty's newfound attentions while trying to find her own sense of beauty and the poor young man bombarded with his own infatuation with the beauty.

The two girls are in like. The boy will be ok.

All this because of a midriff. My midriff. And blasted teenagers. The web series. The performance of feminine sexyness. And the passivity of men's courtships and rituals.

Men have to court. Women have to prepare themselves. Grooming is mutually essential for a good cover.

But at the same time, women don't have to do anything. They will be objectified.

Men don't have to do anything either though. They will excused for anything.

Two different extremes. Fascinating in theory yet infuriating in practice because it's imbalanced.

Last thoughts: Work. You betta work. Work. Like blah. Build good habits.

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Drabble series: 11/27/2015

Oct 27th 2015-

Ok. Okayyy! It's been hard to vlog. And then you can think about it and be like, well, you have to be by yourself to do it. Though that isn't true, it is your personal private time you get to share. And you tend to forget that.

I had a silent vlog yesterday for laughs and I think I should just make another one today. It does go to the realm of doing things that are done without value, but no. That's not what this is. Don't fall into that trap. This is an exercise. One vlog, one drabble everyday.

And on that subject...I think I forgot how to write. Other than these forms of confessionals, which is more likely word vomit, any other sort of form is actually escaping me. Or rather, I think it is. Or I am not willing to try and improve. Because my first time will be a bad try. But that's not fair to the story. How are you supposed to get it done if you don't do it at all?

And of course you know this. And I think the TV is actually a distracting thing. How many shows do you really watch? And again, you can watch them online. Someone, somewhere will find a way to access it for free.

That reminds me; it would be amazing if there was a USB key that could help you free up free space on your PVR. So you can access your recordings anywhere. And it gets saved on your device and your computer so there's more space for more recordings.

That way I can watch Columbo, Supergirl and anything else anytime. I mean with the internet I can do that too but you can't always be online.

Which reminds me, is there Pocket for Firefox mobile? If so that would be amazing! Since it works offline as well!

Sigh. It bothers me greatly that I've heat, so to speak. I mean, I will not show this to anyone at all, so really I should be able to say that well...I am horny. Horny horny.

That is a funny word the more you say it. And it sounds like an ass's laugh.

Oi. Fuck me. Like. Really. Eat me out. I want her face is my cunt, you have no idea.

Last thoughts are less than pure let's just say that. Tee hee. 

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Drabble series: 11/21/2015

Oct 21st 2015-

Yesterday's drabble was short. And I was pissed. Not happy. And that was yesterday. After not having food. Then thank the Lord we did have food. And Mom came home and didn't have time to stay at the airport.

Now it's the day after. We have eaten. Are eating. And I'm gonna vlog. And I like I'm getting better. And I'm gonna blog. And I have been getting behind on what I have to do. Which is a lot.

But I will get through it. I have lots of ideas. And I have to sort through them and workshop them. I miss sex.

Or do I? Ugh. I have this ache because I feel bad. And I don't want to go through the effort of the nagging. And dang it, this is a depressing one.

Why am I always so intense? It's exhausting. I think it's because I'm just in my own head. And I did realize a lot of things. Like I am a floating head with a blob for a body I tend to check up once in a blue moon. I don't know if I can feel my middle. Like my head.

And I always felt that way. Like a walking blobhead. Now however, I am a bit more aware of my body. My neck and stomach are my most prominent features on my body.

Basically my upper body is there, but my legs are just muscles to hold me up.

My toes are dirty. And my nails. Like, constantly. :(

I want this blobhead to feel more alive. More human. More intellectually abd physically. This is totally a writing prompt.

And music is fun. Like ugh. I don't want to think.

Final thoughts: Sex is fun. You are just sad and confused and in need of a body. And acceptance. And precedence. And romance. You are going well. What do I like about myself? My voice. It sounds pleasant.
My mouth. It's small and cute.

I like my strength. I like being strong and imposing. I want to protect. Shield and sword. Rawr.

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Drabble series: 11/20/2015

Oct 20th

Food is good. A bit miffed about Air Canada but it will be ok. It always is. I'm kinda tired of this being ok. I want my day to be fantastic.

I hate my mom going to work hungry while I eat.

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Drabble series: 11/19/2015

October 19th drabble

I'm hungry. Not only in a physical sense. But in a spiritual and emotional sense as well. I am hungry for connection and success and life. I want to live life and let the world know it every day.

I live for God. Jesus is my homeboy. He keeps me up. He keeps me alive. I can do anything through he who strengthens me. I have a dream. A dream that has been neglected for too long.  I do and I don't want to hide it anymore. I want to eat peaches and strawberries. With some nuts and cheeses. I want to be healthy. I want to eat canteloupe. And I'm not a big fan for some reason. Grapefruit. Oh my godd. Grapefruit. Oranges. Peaches. Prunes. Potatoes. Carrots. Spinach. Goat cheese. Cheddar. Black bean pepper jack cheese.  Grapes.

I want to film it all. I am tired of hiding. I have never thought about it but I want to film everything from now on. Document it. Edit it. I need to get better. I want to be self-sufficient. I want to be my own business person.

Mom has been saying it and I have been doing it but now it needs to be out of the way. It needs to be done.

I need to promote myself. My scripts. My camera operation. My producing. I need to be active. I want to be active. I want to thrive, not just survive.

I just want a husband. And children. Like. I could choose passion over family; passion. Ok. Passion about family. At the same time I'm not there yet. I'm still growing. I haven't found a man to love yet. To have a family with. And who says you can't mix passion and family? That can be done. Have it all. Handsome, God-fearing, kind, good-natured, an inhuman being blessed by God.

Why is it that's how all the men I make up are? Like, sweet, gullible and soft? Basically Jack Mcbrayer.

I want to bike. I want to look good. I want to be good. I want to feel good. Yeah, I want to cook. I need to learn how.

Final thoughts: I will eating tomorrow. And I will be enjoying it. I will be filming tomorrow. I will be writing tomorrow. Oh yeah! I love love love Yulin Kuang, Shipwrecked Comedy, Couple-ish, and the new Transmedia wave that enables fan-creator relationships and dynamics. KitR was superb. I just. Yes to everything. Which reminds me to update on Wild Echoes.

And script. Love, life, loss. And Air Force One. And the Drifter. I think that will be enough on your personal projects.

Along with teaching yourself how to edit and practice. There is no deadline.

Be the person you know you can be. You are in good hands. You are in great hands.

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Drabble series: 11/15/2015

October 15th 2015-

Today's drabble. I had a good day at work. Guests like me. Of course I felt like going home every frickin minute. But then I finally did so and so I'm home at last.

And I wrote a bit more of my script today. Which is really act one of three and I'm barely done because I have to rewrite it. In fact, I want to have my projects immediately done. Guarantee. I don't want to stall anymore.

I know what's its like to stall. I don't like it. And I want to work on it. So many things I want to work on.

And I mean projects.

I want to work on being self-sufficient. Camera work, editing, producing and promoting. Which are all things needed to market good media.

I need my driver's, safety permit and my two courses. Then work my way up to the production office. Either that or join the writer's Guild while working in the DGC.

I need to beef up my skills with camera operation, at least basic editing, production, scriptwriting and promotion.

What else happened today? I felt like my prayers work. At work, I was at peace. Mostly. I was calm. Ok, I blabbed to Terri. And I know who I was with. I have to keep my mouth shut. I have to keep vigilant with what I say. It'll get me in a tizzy and in a mood and I'm already sensitive. I don't like Rickey. At least Ken is consistent and he's formal so yeah you feel awkward and intimidated but he isn't weird about it. But Rickey is just an asshole. He's "nice" after he blows shit up. Actually he always rebukes me. He's frankly abrasive. Some of my thoughts on him were less than sane to be honest. It included castration and frustration. Ugh. It wasn't pretty. Like. What the Frick.

I'm sorry Rickey but you can go fuck yourself.

I also liked the guest's complimenting me. It's rather bittersweet because I don't like working there anymore. It's always the guests and the customer experience that makes you stay.

Although at the same time, you have those who are great and those who cut you off; and I'm repeating your order so you can get it right as you want. If I tell you what's on your burger, that's because I want to be sure if its what you want. And Mark was a butt today. Like I do notice that if I'm not in the mood to laugh with you, then I will shut you down.

No, I don't give much of a shit about people. Ugh. At least in film, you have one job. And you are needed. You are all part of a great whole. And most of the time, its static and dynamic at once. You often have to wait in one place for one scene and amazingly, its a millisecond of a scene.

A whole day is barely frames.

Last thought: keep on keeping on. Calgary Inferno! I would love to watch the game. I am actually excited about the game. And I want to work on set. And darn it, drive. And travel. And kiss. And I want to party but if I can actually celebrate something. These days I would rather be on set. Or working. Like actively. And I want to be disciplined. Like. In all the things.

I want to release a short every 6 months! I want to blow up my Instagram! I want to have my own viewing party! Like I want my life to be in complete videos!

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Drabble series: 11/14/2015

Wednesday October 14th 2015

Knowing me knowing you, there is nothing we can do...

It's so melodic. And fun. And guitars. And insert sounds here. Fascinating really. And depressing. And airgh. All the things. I'm afraid of effort. I think. Actually, no. My biggest fear has always been with waking up next to a man. Or rather, waking up and realizing that I should be with a man. Like, I remember that was a vague eA reoccurring nightmare of sorts.  And I don't remember why. Was it because my base impulses were heterosexual at its core? Was it God tuning into my deepest darkest desires?

Actually, I guess my most obvious one is making love to a woman and having her come all over my face. Fuck that's hot. And intimate.

The idea of a blowjob disgusts me. But not gonna lie, slightly intrigues. I have to admit that I don't like men. Not sexually. And I don't want a man's attentions. I won't feel I'm enough to give it back to him.

But with God, all things are possible.

Or was it me? Afraid of the outcome of my devious homosexual lifestyle. That quite frankly I am romanticizing. Because at the end of the day, all romance doesn't erase the fear of telling your mother something you're not quite sure of. And love is something I'm not sure I know. Love is socially constructed.

I'm afraid of having my heart broken at the core. I think that something I acknowledge I'm aware of that fear. So put the effort in God. And he will bring someone into your life. That's the answer.

It can't be a woman. You can't have children with a woman. But with a man, you can have happiness and prosperity, with children and companionship. And best of all, you will feel good in your heart.

You will be in a good place.

I also don't want to end up hitting my head on the same rock forever. I want to be stable and active and work. Be productive, be happy and be healthy.

And with film and Media, I'm not ashamed in admitting that I want the glory, I want the fame. I want kids to be telling my name. I want the power of influence and people crying over my fiction. That's power and influence. I couldn't care less about stars. Because it's power is really behind the scenes. It's how your build them, how you brand them. How you portray yourself.

Sharon Belle. I had a dream I kissed Sharon Belle. And fuck, it was slow at first but then I swear, her tongue was in and I was like "Danny", which is terrible at the same time because is it like do I like you Sharon or who you portray and obviously I like her because have you seen her face and her mannerisms.

But damn it, I would not say no to a night with Annie Briggs.

And Sophia Walker is my Menace. My Black Cat.

I have so many thoughts. Oi. I want Love, Life, loss to be a thing. Like a film. Or a pilot. Preferably a film though.

Brandon is a douchebag but you feel for him. Edie is at her happiest and at her scariest. Gywneth is down in the dumps and she is scared adn hurt. Mostly hurt. And perceptive. And she and Brandon are fuck buddies after the script.

Ashton is a douchebag too. But a sly douchebag. His brother's broody. He is plotty and sweet and assholish.

Gillian is a light of sunshine, especially when shit gets tough.

Nathan is a poor, growing boy who doesn't know how to express himself.

These are all awkward young people trying to make something of themselves and the world is throwing them bones. And rocks. And storms.

Final thoughts:

Love. Life. Loss. Could be a thing. It could be turned into another thing. But just keep at it. Keep at it. Don't quit. Don't stop. Baby don't stop. The B-52 had a great song. Love shack.

Also, Gay. Queer. Fluid-ish. No label. May-homo? Queermo. Wanna get to heaven though. Naked women are beautiful. Then again I'm just narcisstic maybe. Probably.

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Drabble series: 11/13/2015

Oct 13th 2015

"Why am I quiet again? Am I really quiet? No no. I want to stop myself from screaming and biting someone's head off. Also my period is starting so it kinda makes sense. And ok xar, that's a good word. I shall keep if.

And these are my words. I am pissed off that Toniann is being ousted so shittily. I want God to strike Ken down. But then again, that's not how that worksm. He will avenger her wrong and give her something better. He will give me something better. I want an office job.

Or actually, I want to work on set. I want to be in a thriving environment where I get feedback and learn. I want to play badminton. I want to try MMA. Just to get over all the sexual innuendo out of the game. Because I swear Teppuu is just one big sexpost fest disguised as fighting.

I have 6 minutes. And counting.

Last thoughts: Oi. Keep writing. Done stop. Don't be afraid. God has not given you a spirit of fear and timidity, but of love, power and a sound mind.

You are beautiful. And awesome. And you will thrive. You are ok. You will be a better place. Learn to be better. Accept critique. Learn and evolve." 

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Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Wayback Wednesday: Drabbles and Vloggles of Years Past

Hi everyone,

It's been even a longer while then thought. 

I've been...busy. Doing. Working. Living.

And my life has gotten me all the way back to Montreal. 

So to celebrate that and see how far I've been able to collect my thoughts in the last couple of years, let me post my drabbles.

When I was in Calgary and then went back to Vancouver briefly, I tried to create my best sense of consistency. I felt for the longest time that I hadn't done nor created something concretely. 

So I forced myself for a time for a little bit every day to film a thought. To write a thought. 

What came out of them were these. 

Below you'll see what I was able to save. And I mention save because I had TRIED to recover them from my phone and was able to get a bit, but there was quite a lot lost due to my carelessness. 

But still, from October 2015 to about October 2016, I was creative. To a certain degree. Or at the very least expressive. These are my most private thoughts and names and feelings will not be omittted. 

These were my headspace and thoughts once upon a time. And I'm fond of looking back and seeking what I felt, what I did and who exactly I wanted to be at that point. 

As I'm writing this, I'm still trying to figure that out. Mold myself, shape myself, create something out of this robot. 

If you ever stumble upon this though and ask yourself questions, remember at least this; 

You are good. You are great. You are ok. You will be good. You will be great. You will be ok. 

I also apologize for the long-term ghosting. 

I'll come out from the shadows soon. 

But I do occasionally try to light up on the Instagram here: My Insta Sista

This will be added onto the masterlist of course and this will be archived. 

Catch you all on the Flipside for now.




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Friday, May 29, 2015

Hey there. It's been a while.

Dear Calgary…

It’s been 6 months since I’ve arrived here. And to be honest, you’ve given more opportunities in the palm of my hand than I think I could’ve ever had while I was in Vancouver. I mean, of course, I was a different girl then; I was a college student with slipping grades and a terrible GPA; I was working at Whole Foods and at COBS bread at the same time; and I was also on the verge of a burgeoning blossoming romance that really tested my patience and my fortitude because each of my romances tend to do that, but really this one really had my attention because it always does.

But, anywho…6 months ago I was at a Hostel in downtown Calgary, which I had known to discover, was the emptiest city I had ever seen during the holidays. And that wasn’t even the first thing that I was startled about; well, actually scratch that. It was. That and your Ctrain that runs along the tracks with traffic.

And that was before I had the unpleasant experience of going through your Cold winter and your incomprehensible closures at 6pm every single day.

And also, while you’re at it, you have a shitton of liquor stores at every corner. I still can’t wrap my mind around that. And I’m not sure I actually ever will, but eh, I’ll reconcile with it at some point.

I mean after all, you have given me good things Calgary.

You’ve actually helped me push my ass into gear and kickstart what I should’ve been doing while I was in Vancity. But then again, maybe back then wasn’t really the time. As said, I was a student and I was working and I didn’t really have the time nor thought process like I have now.

I have all the time in the world to really work on my craft. Which is to tell stories.

I’m a writer, and I see myself honing my skills and turning those stories into flesh and blood through all meaningful mediums, whether it be short films, webseries, radio dramas, podcats, stageplays or comic books. (All of which will be done through some shape or form within the next little while. I’m on a roll now and I don’t wanna stop. I’ve always said these things so I’ll shut up and act, like all of my friends are doing.)

Both of which I am currently helping others make. Because I had no clue on how to do anything, so I’m really just leeching on others and absorbing their life experiences to better my powers.

They’re my red chicken of power.

Ten points if you get that really bad reference. And if you really can’t figure it out, that’s ok.

Anyway…onto what I’ve actually been doing for the past 3 months…ish.

Because actually, if I can be honest, I’ve been pretty much sleeping in for the Winter months and then left hibernation in April and all this work started popping up.

Like finding myself working for these oddballs at California Balloons and helping them out with their kickpeople campaign so they can encourage piracy. (Well actually it’s an Indiegogo campaign and it’s actually pretty cool! Details here:

They’re also giving me lessons in planning events, computer editing and writing incredible stories that I would throw my money at if I wasn’t already volunteering for them.

And then when I wasn’t part of the CSIF Script Club, I was writing an article about a girl and her bloody dress-up habits, that you can see here:

And then, falling in love with my church and my spirituality, which is something I’d never thought would happen. Why? I honestly, don’t know. But at the same time, I’m glad I did. And I see my relationship with God in a better light thanks to this new Pastor and how he says things. He makes it so personal! And he’s pro-women! Like, seriously, how cool is that? Like, he actively acknowledges women and includes them in his sermons and talks about them? And he’s a pretty chill dude and some of the church goers have tattoos? And that’s pretty cool because I WANT A TATTOO!

(Actually, I want 3; a 4-star dragon ball, a smiley face, and the crest of love. And maybe a star.)

And I say that because I am directly involved with them by actually doing camera work, too! So I feel directly connected to helping out the church and I feel even better for it!

(Note that the previous church I went to wasn’t anti-women nor was it anti-inclusive; on the contrary, they had a RAINBOW FLAG in their Canada Day service at Rogers Arena! And I came out to my church youth leader when I was a lass, so they’re pretty chillz! I guess I just wasn’t completely involved and it wasn’t quite the same!)

And then I’m also helping out at NUTV, which is the University of Calgary’s Community Television station that airs on TV. And this is pretty big because it gets me to see what it’s like to work in a TV studio and have the whole thing set up and put together! And there’s a writer’s room and a production meeting and I’m going to make an active effort to attend it more because opportunity!

And then of course, I can’t forget that I took part in my first guerilla shooting as I met Han Siu and his merry band of misfits as we shot the beautiful short film Mia.

Did I mention that this was Last week?

And we shot in 8 days so he can submit it to TIFF?

And that he’s a zombie right now because he’s really proactive and amazing and editing hours of retakes and guffaws and adlibs into a rough cut for this morning exactly?

I really learned a lot from him and from all the actors and crew I got to meet and work with and I’m really grateful for that. I’m honestly thankful for having given me an opportunity to meet and work with him and all of whom I’ve met and advised me on just continuing forward and learning. And being proactive, because that’s what this particular business is about.

And I honestly can’t say thank you enough to all the beautiful, hardworking and focussed artists I’ve met in so little time. Being with you has revitalized me and encouraged me to really strive to make me the best artist I can be. And I promise you that when you’ll get to work with me, you’ll be in good hands. We’re all gonna make great things and you’re all helping me get to that place. You guys remind me very much of my hardworking, busy friends that I rarely got the chance to see when I was back home.

Despite being quickly acclimated here in the Old West, I still call Vancity my home as a creature of habit.

But my home is where the heart is. And that’s where my passion for stories will take me. And the way things are going, that will be anywhere that the Director’s Guild of Canada will take me since I can go anywhere when I soon join and become a member.

And with that in mind, I’m looking forward to a great summer.

It’ll start with awkward hugs as I’m going to be a volunteer PA on the set of the Storyhive winning web series Hug-o-gram for the next 2 weeks.

And then it’ll continue with MORE awkwardness, though a gayer variety as I become involved in helping  out with the web series “Awkward Mo’s” for their second season.

And then I’ll be getting my PA certification workshop on June 13th and starting my way up to have more on-set gigs as I learn the ropes of actively working in the film industry and leaving my Customer Service days behind…

And then helping out the CaliB crew with Pre-production of Space Rippers and setting up more Cold Reads…

And also working more with NUTV and climbing up the ladder to vague volunteer girl to PA girl to Overlord of the Universe. Or until then, writer of one joke that made it on the script.

And falling more in love with my church as they help me with my career as a filmmaker and help me be a better me.

And also, building up my own projects and actually having them see the light of the day through hard work, rewrites, crying over the rewrites, and acute time management.

…Or at least, a bloody script and assembling my avengers of actors.

I can see myself as Nick Fury now.

I will now come on all functions with an eyepatch.

But if you must know, monogamous individuals of all genders interested…

If you’re bored and in need of a pseudo-platonic date, lemme know if you want arm candy. My muscle is nice and firm. (It’s 3am as I’m writing this.)

But ALSO, know that I am currently engaged to be married my career. It’s been courting me since childhood so we’re pretty much an OTP at this point and we’re endgame.

So you’ll have to be ok with sharing me with my ideas and my ever-expanding squad of aesthetically-pleasing film geeks. And I don’t care if you’re cute, I’m not giving that up.

Not after all I’ve just started doing and all of the places where it’ll take me.

Which by the looks of it will be long hours of gophering and asking people for collabs…which then leads to shooting and eating and then editing and not sleeping…

But then that leads to promoting and then the award shows.

Soon. And then the wrap parties.

Ah, the wrap parties.

And the general parties I will throw.

Cuz I’mma get turnt really high as the kids say.

Sigh. I can't wait to party. 

Anyway. I should sleep now. It’ll the last time I do for a while because it’ll get busy again.

So yeah. See you. Flipside.

Suzanne Helen James.


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Tuesday, March 31, 2015

Shaelan and the Shrew

((Masterpost Here))

Shaelan and the Shrew

A story by Suzanne Helen James

" An hour after having entered the bar and had a good share of drinks to make her forget about the shitty day she had, Viola bumped into someone's backside. She was drunk enough that the blow actually made her wobble backwards. “Whoa there!” Viola heard as she was caught by the arm and then brought back to her feet. Her fingers gripped the arms that steadied her and she grumbled. “Who the fuck are you to help me?” She muttered at her rescuer, who stiffled a soft giggle which irritated the girl further. In response to the giggle, Viola attempted to kick the other person, only to trip forward on her heels. “Whoa there missy, you best be careful!” She then heard as her rescuer, female with a sharp irish accent, tugged Viola's arms to and held her by the waist, forcing Viola to collide against the stranger's chest with a soft thud. “Alrighty then”, she then said, “Time for you to go on home cause you've had a few too much drinks.”

But then as Viola was lead outside, the drunken woman suddenly elbowed her assistant in the stomach. “That's for fucking ordering me around” she muttered as her attack made the Irish woman recoil and release her grip on Viola's arm. “I can walk my own self home thank you very much” Viola huffed and raised her arm to wave at an incoming cab. When the cab sped by her, she gasped and growled. “YOU FUCKING SHIT!” The girl yelled and was about to run after the taxi when she was again tugged from behind and this time fell down in a puddle. Aghast at her soggy clothes and wet state, Viola turned her head to glare at the Irish woman, who looked at her with raised eyebrows and arms crossed as she failed to save Viola from falling.

That's what you get for not listening to me,” The Irish-sounding girl said before sighing and sitting down next to her pouting companion. Viola turned away from her and huddled her knees to her hips. The other woman rolled her eyes at her actions and smirked. “Shut the fuck up and don't you dare laugh”, the other woman faintly heard as she covered her mouth and looked at the clearing night sky. A few minutes passed as the two didn't say nor move anything...until the Irish woman got up and stretched her arms.

Well then,” she said expectantly, “Aren't we gonna get you another cab and get you on home then?”

A grumpy Viola responded by snorting under her breath.“You know what the fuck you can do?” She began, ”Why don't you fucking drive me home? Since you're the only one who's giving an apparent fuck about my well-being for some reason, why don't you just be the one to get it done.” While Viola's crude words visibly stung the Irish woman, she nonetheless sighed and shrugged before replying with “Alrighty then if that's what you want!” and tugged a grumbling Viola to her feet as they walked and stumbled to her vehicle."

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Those greedy little eyes

"Those greedy little green eyes"

A short story by Suzanne Helen James

My eyes looked down at the cradle as I watched him sleep. For the 14th time that night, a frown crossed my face, expressing the bitterness that was as sour as ugly green gummy worms. Gripping the handles on the white cradle, I narrowed my eyes and took another heated glare at my new little brother. Jeremiah was his name, but everybody shortened it to Jeremy.

I'd rather call him Germs. Or Goblin even.

Mommy and Daddy had brought him home less than 6 months ago, when Mommy had to go to the hospital. She stayed there while Daddy went to visit her every day. I stayed at home with Lynda, my babysitter. She had been hired because Mommy and Daddy had called her a “cheap easy.” I didn't know what it meant, but I did know that I didn't really like her very much.

As a big “big” kid (a teenager), Lynda was always talking about her “boyfriend”, her “hell of a life” and how she wished she was anywhere but here. When she was really mad, sometimes she would use big words. But she wasn't always like that. On the days when she felt in a good mood, Lynda would talk about her boyfriend and actually try and take care of things around the house, including me. On days when she was in a bad mood, well then Lynda didn't like anyone; she didn’t like her boyfriend, and even worse, Lynda would be mad at everything I did and not like me at all.

Unfortunately, I ended up picking a bad day for Lynda when I had asked why Mommy had been in the hospital for so long. Lynda, who was yelling on the phone, suddenly turned to me and said, “Well she's obviously gone cause she's having a baby, twerp! Now scram, Sam and I are talking!”

Later that day when I asked again, Lynda was still in such in a bad mood that this time she used big kid words, like “pregnant”, and “labor” and stuff…and didn’t even explain anything to me! Since I didn't know what they meant, I waited for Daddy and asked him when he got back home. When he told me what they all meant…

I was shocked. My jaw dropped. “Mommy was gonna have a baby?” I said slowly. Mommy was going to have a baby? Soon? Another little kid like me? I was excited! This was gonna be like having a little mini-me around! Someone to play with! Someone to blame things on when I'd really done it! Someone I'd protect from the dangers of girl cooties!

...Though if it's a baby girl, I could teach her how not to get cooties.

It would be months after that before I finally heard those footsteps from downstairs.”Guess who?” I heard as Mommy and Daddy came in the doorway. I bounced down the stairs and ran towards my new sibling. When Mommy had knelt to my level, the wide grin on my face had shrunk to a small frown. I swallowed slowly and squinted as I saw the little baby, wrapped in a red blanket. What was this? Who was this? Thin red stripes on his face for eyebrows, a teeny-tiny nose...and a small closed mouth. Was this the little brother that I was supposed to play with? Was this the little brother I was supposed to blame things on? He was so small. He looked so fragile. He looked like a soft, frail little doll. Ugh. I blinked and raised a dusty hand to touch him and instantly flinched. Mommy and Daddy giggled as he awoke to my touch. It was when he opened his eyes that I saw the softest shade of green ever. It was so bright, so...pretty and...shiny.

I don't know why but my eyes narrowed and my frown deepened. Without warning, I turned around and ran away to my room, leaving Mommy and Daddy confused. When I reached my room, I slammed the door and dove under the bed covers. Staring into the darkness, I laid on my stomach.

"Son?" I then heard from outside. Daddy was outside my doorstep, trying to understand what had happened earlier. Another knock followed. "Son? What happened down there? Are we feeling a little shy about meeting our little baby brother? Aww, that's alright...really! It's fine, you know. We're all feeling a bit shy in our first time, too..."

Yes, that's what my problem is. After a long silence, Daddy finally gave up. "Well...alright then, mister. Feel free to give yourself a time out until you've felt you're ready to face him. But honestly? You might've startled him when you woke him up, but I swear that those pretty greens of his were so happy to see you!" Ending with a chuckle, Daddy left me to my brooding. When left alone, I growled madly. I clutched at my bedsheets, making my fists burning with heat. I started to shake and hit the mattress. I slammed my head on the bed back and forth until I was starting to get dizzy and my forehead was getting sore.

And then a tear leaked down from my eye. I bit my lip and shut my eyes. I didn't want to cry, but...

"ooogh!!" I muttered in frustration and rubbed my eyes. The tears didn't stop flowing. I shook, squirmed and growled as my mind conjured up that baby's face. Those striking little green orbs. Staring at me so irritated me. It made me mad. It made me cry.

Those green eyes stirred something in me. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that my little brother was going to take something away from me. Those green eyes of his told me so. And I don't know why, but I knew that I would hate him for it. I would never forgive him for watching me so innocently with those eyes of his.

At first it was his cries, invading my ears from far upstairs or on the living room radio. Mommy or Daddy would apologize and leave me by myself while they sped up to his room. But that's not what I wanted. Little did they know how much their apologies meant nothing to me, but instead I would rather have it if Germs wouldn't even be here, at their beck and call.

Then, it was his smell. Mommy and Daddy would laugh and joke and fill the air with his dirty diapers as they changed him. The smell of his poop and the weird smell of the diaper perfume wasn't pretty. But Mommy and Daddy would never notice my tongues at his direction, my grimaces or my disgust. No, I was too grown-up for that. And I was smiling too much.

But one day I decided that was this was enough. The green-eyed little monster had gotten
its time. I started going to school. I started to write, spell things, number things and draw pretty pictures. I was using all the tricks in the book. Even Lynda liked it and praised me. But when I started to fight for Mommy's attention, nothing worked. "Oh! Honey, did you draw that? That's a good- Awww, look at that, Jeremy's got a little thing up here..."

And what I drew was actually quite good.

When I fought for Daddy's attention, not even grabbing my own milk and cookies by myself had even gotten a glimpse of attention from him. "Hoh hoh! Someone's been a good boy!" I remembered, "I'm so proud of you! That's a-Jeremyyy! You little spiller! How could you do that?" When Daddy returned his attention to Goober, I remember not staying too long in order to avoid staring at those eyes. Those greedy little green eyes.

It would be a little longer after that that I would realize that I was too late..but I knew what was going to happen the minute I had stared into his eyes. I wouldn't stop trying though. I couldn't lose to that little Goober...I just didn't want to be stopped by those eyes.

It wouldn't be long before Mommy and Daddy would completely forget about me.

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A letter of dear importance

To my dearest…A letter of great importance.

I would like to say that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you in any way. It was brash and impulsive and I didn’t think of the consequences. As with everything else, I thought you wouldn’t take it very seriously. But you had been hurt and I had realized it too late. Again, I am very sorry for what I had said and done. With apologies out of the way, now I must clarify things. First of all…Yes, it was me who killed Mikhail by crashing his car, though that was…unaccounted for, somewhat. But…if you want me to, I will take responsibility for what happened. Partially. And yes, I had tried to poison that friend of yours, Adele. And it worked. But was it my fault if my temper got the best of me while I saw her kissing your cheek? You looked like you were enjoying it!

In my defense, I thought that in the end, drastic measures had to be taken. I hope you understand that I was simply listening to my feelings. My heart was telling me to react. Please respect that. Oh yes, before I forget…tell your father that yes, I will be attending Mass tonight. And my deepest condolences for your mother’s departure. But before you point fingers at anyone, I’d like to say that for once, I wasn’t the one who staged 
that murder. Again, this wasn’t my doing this time. By the way…do you remember that football jock you were interested in, Brian Kinney?

Well here’s what “little” of him I’m now holding in my left hand.

And frankly, it’s nothing special. I’ve desecrated bigger. And for a black man, he sadly disappoints. I’m sorry, but in the long run you weren’t going to be happy anyway, so I might as well be the one to break the news to you…before it might’ve gone somewhere where you might’ve regretted.

And then…then was her. You know who I’m talking about. You can’t hide it anymore, it’s too obvious by now.

She slouches a little sometimes. Sitting down. Looks like she’s recoiling into herself, like she’s trying to hide. She’s always in the cafeteria in the morning, doing something or nothing of the sort. Despite her slouching, however, when she walks on her feet, she walks with such grace and elegance that it would only seem fair that she owns the world…Well she certainly owns yours, doesn’t she? To save face in the eyes of your peers though, you always find time to constantly tease, belittle or just ignore her altogether…Yet, I know the awful truth, love. I know that “Little Miss Popular” defies the Status Quo, in secrecy. I know that in your home you take mere minutes to “talk” to her. On the net. And there, its like you two are in your own little precious world. And you two live your own little adventures. And it’s just the two of you. How precious, isn’t it?

You don’t think I know who it is? You think it could be anyone of your little bitches that follow you? Oh I’m afraid that she’s not a blonde, so that shortens the list. To make it easier, let me just give you her name right now. Although you probably have it etched into your mind already.

…Camlyn. C-a-m-l-y-n. Dawes. D-a-w-e-s. Camlyn Dawes. Does she ring a bell yet? Yes? Yes? Yessss?

Good for you, you remember!! And just so you know, I spared her. Yes, I 
spared her. Although she’s barely breathing. Don’t think she’ll make it much longer. So if you want her not scattered in too many pieces, I suggest you come home. You know where I am.

By the way, don’t forget that I love you!


~Your beloved…~

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Line of consequence

Line of consequence
Author- Suzanne Helen James
Rating- T
Genre- Sci-fi, drama, mystery
“So...why exactly have you asked us here, doctor Rothernathy?” came the quirky, monotonous and squeaky question, hiding no sense of positive emotion in the tone of their voices. The two voices seemed identical in their poses, and their facial expressions were perfectly robotic. The only thing that seemed to function properly was the miniscule things, the small details and quirks that couldn’t be noticed unless you were able to take a really good look at their mannerisms. On the right, where the mother was sitting, her left hand, hidden under her right, was quietly drumming a repeated beat. Her two forefingers rose up and down and quickened their pace as the tension increased around them. On the left, where the father was sitting down, his left leg, crossed over the other, was thumping in a similar fashion. Except that it seemed much more obvious that he showed more vulnerability than the mother had.
Either way, something was definitely feeding the ominous silence that had hung around the room for the last twenty minutes.
Looking shortly away from her papers, Doctor Clarissa Rothernathy removed her reading glasses halfway through her nose and glanced at her clients. Though her eyes reflected no worry or sign that anything was wrong, it was just a normal facade that she had learned to master over the years. In truth, she sympathized with the daughter and wished the best for her. Really did. But with her latest predicament, Clarissa wasn’t sure how exactly would the all-mighty patriarch and matriarch handle their child’s new turn of events. But then again, it was normal for them to react as they would. However, with this new rising society’s new topsy-turvy outlook, things were bound to go off the wire eventually. After all, things you thought you knew, it turned out they were wrong.  And people you thought you knew, in the end, it looked like you didn’t either. It seemed that everyone was merging into symbiosis, and few were really able to define their own identity anymore.  Shrugging off the distant thoughts from her mind, the red-head finally raised her head and decided to take a good look at the authorities in the eye. As clear and coloured eyes stared back into stagnant and gray ones, Clarissa clasped her hands together. Her fiery eyebrows furrowed down on her eyelids, making the effects of a serious, stern and utterly intense look. Though hers of course, held much more life than theirs ever would’ve.
After all, they do say that it’s all in the eyes, wasn’t it?
Before trying to diminish the ongoing silence brought on her part, Clarissa was in the midst of deciding if exactly the parents were ready to face the truth. And by the way it was looking, if their own daughter had convinced her own psychiatrist to tell her parents the news, then the least Clarissa was to do is to make them see what exactly they would be facing in the coming future. Clarissa had been known often for giving people all sorts of hidden tests in her evaluations or her many meetings, and unbeknownst to the parents, this wasn’t an exception. It may have been a different case but it still required the similar methods nonetheless. Looking up at the parents as she crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, Clarissa then made magic of her face and her with the blink of an eye, her face softened and her expression turned into something a little more lighter. She was at her best when she smiled anyway.
“Now Mr. and Mrs. Odonell,” she addressed casually before pausing, “...Despite her introverted moments, Julie-Ann was mostly always active and on her feet, wasn’t she?” At what was disguised to be a simple question, the parents both nodded in response. A short silence resumed again before the mother’s hand was raised slightly, making Clarissa fan her hand downwards in approval of a potential question.
“...However doctor,” she paused and drew the raised hand to her lip,”...I do have to say that in recent years, in fact ever since we had even moved here, Julie-Ann has been showing a bit more of her introverted side, as you’ve seen of course.”
Giving another acknowledging nod, Clarissa folded her lips into a pensive frown; though it might’ve looked a bit exaggerated with her eyes half-lidded this time around. The red-head was now smiling a bit more eagerly, and it looked very much that not only was she keeping something from the couple, but it was looking as if she was enjoying herself at watching them think so fruitlessly.
Yes, it looked like she was really having her way with the unsuspecting couple.
After another short-lived silence where all parties were to come up with an answer, it was once again time for the main person to speak her mind.”...Has this introverted side of your daughter exceptionally affected your daughter in any way before this? Or perhaps, have you noticed any introverted moments when she’s around people she’s familiar with? When she’s with boys, how is she acting than when compared with girls?” Again, Clarissa still held her mischievous face, complete with her thumbs dwindling on her chin. The fact that she was asking all these questions was all part of the test. These small hints were all part of the puzzle. Looking at the pair’s eyes, Clarissa knew she had seen a short flicker of light when they had blinked at her question. Perfect. They were getting closer to seeing the truth. The pieces of the puzzle were all getting together. It may not be a pretty picture when they put two and two together, but at least they would’ve been confronted to the truth.
Chuckling as she watched the confused parents consulting themselves for advice, the young woman just felt like laughing. Really, really hard.
Oh, she would definitely get some good champagne tonight.

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