Musings of the Smart Girl with Pink Hair and High Heels (My Drug)

I’m addicted. My drug keeps me up at night. I sometimes take it instead of doing what I am supposed to. I buy as much of it as I can afford. Once I pick it up, I can’t put it down.

My drug isn’t dealt in the alleys or by underhanded people in love with money. My drug makes me smarter and keeps me entertained. My drug isn’t unhealthy and it won’t kill me. My drug is reading.

I pick up a book and it sucks me in. It isn’t just the character’s adventure, but it becomes my own. I can experience it all, but from the safety of my room.

I have fought off evil governments or solved a multitude of crimes. I have discovered new abilities and used them to my enjoyment and survival. I have fallen in love. I’ve make mistakes and fixed them. I’ve learned a lesson or two or four or a million.

I can become someone else. I can be the adventurer that will jump headlong into trouble or the shy girl who discovers a way to make her mark in the world. I can be the silly and clumsy one who always speaks before thinking or the calculating villain who manipulates every situation. I can be anyone I want to.

Books give me stories I dive into, but they are all so beautiful. Conflicts are resolved with the turning of pages. Fun and fantasy become reality within those lines. Imagination runs rampant and I can’t get enough.

I’m addicted to reading. Give me a book and I will be satisfied for hours.

Musings of the Smart Girl with Pink Hair and High Heels (Love Unashamed)

My heart fluttered like butterfly wings. A cold sweat broke across my palms and my mouth dried like the desert. Electricity sizzled in my veins. My stomach summersaulted in excitement. Joy blossomed in my chest and my lips couldn’t help but upturn in response.

Love. That’s what I’ve read it to be like…

Never having felt its breadth firsthand, I soak in all the description from the multitude of novels I read. I dream of coming down with its disease.

But I’ve been told reality is cold and hard. It won’t allow for the fluttery feelings the love of fiction brings. They say it’s not a picture perfect as in the stories. They say that love is just a romanticized fantasy.

I don’t want to believe them. I want excitement. I want joy. I want my heart to race like the carefree galloping mustangs. I want fireworks to explode when I’m kissed. I want my skin to sizzle with electricity when he holds my hand. I want the love I’ve read.

Sure, I understand life can’t be exactly like fiction, relationships do take tons of work, but I don’t want the dead and boring. I don’t want to believe love is so stanch and strict. Why is it unrealistic to dream of being swept off my feet? And I don’t mean that has to mean I have a knight in shining armor that rescues me from disaster, but a man who brings me flowers because he thought of me or he buys me a book he knew I would love or any other small romantic gesture.

I don’t want to believe in this realistic love that I have been told about recently. If that’s all love truly is, then I want no part of it. I would rather be forever alone than have to experience the terrible sounding love they are claiming is the real deal.

I just can’t accept that’s all it is.

Musings of the Smart Girl with Pink Hair and High Heels (Release)

Heat sears my heart. My blood is bubbling in my veins, spreading my disease. Acid rolls in my stomach. My lungs shrivel and my throat collapses. Tears burn my eyes, but I refuse to let them free.

My hands shake as if I was dying from thirst and shivers attack my bones, at war with my boiling blood. Fog settles into my mind. My vision fills with black emptiness.

A silent scream lodges in my throat. Pain begins to pound in my head and I fight to gain control. My body betrays me and I collapse.

Fear and Anger fight for dominance. They are choking me with their weapons of destruction. Fear makes me cold and empty, but Anger fills the void with fire. My body is torn between freezing and burning.

The world seems to shatter around me and I’m left in the debilitating darkness. There’s no sun to caress my chilled skin, nor breeze to still the frenzied beating of my heart. The silence presses in to further distress me.

In panic, I reach out for anything to distract me from this horror. My frantic fingers brush against the cool metal of a pen. I clench onto it like a lifeline. The tip presses against the floor next to my broken body and I begin to write.

All my ailments rush down my arm and out of me. My mind clears and forms the words now appearing beneath me. Every unpleasant emotion escapes my chest and my lungs fill with sweet air. A weight is lifted from my stooped shoulders and I’m freed from the burdens of life.

I have been set free from my cage and allowed to soar simply because I put my pen to the awaiting paper.

Photography

Photography

Cedric Blythe (From: Mortiferum Aqua)

Cedric works with his partner, Andy Elliott, and their specialty is demolition. They were hired by a mining company to start a new mine for sapphires in Madagascar. In the partnership, he is the outspoken one and he pushed Andy into many situations. Where Andy is determined and pragmatic, Cedric is more carefree and flighty.

They met while growing up in an orphanage and have stuck together ever since. Because of Cedric’s past, he doesn’t like to care for anything deeply, since everything he has known has always been taken. However, he is very protective of Andy and always fought off the bullies that attacked Andy. Growing up, he was stronger and bolder than Andy and he always feels the need to watch over Andy.

Cedric is as tall as Andy (about 6’2’’) and just as muscular. He is always clean-shaven and his dark brown hair is cropped short. His smile is very playful and it reveals his dimples. He has clear blue eyes. Women find him very handsome and flock to him. He is somewhat of a playboy and can get any girl he wants.

Strengths: Spontaneous, Protective, Bold, Confident, Fighter

Weaknesses: Not trusting, Bitter, Arrogant, Rebellious, Craves Attention

Photoshopping