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Be grateful graphic Revenge of Eve


A reminder for us all.


We all have days that seem never ending. It is usually on these days that we feel discontent. If you suffer from mental illness these days can feel like they outnumber the good days.

 Focusing is near impossible. Complaining solves nothing and no physical activity sounds inviting.  

Mustering up the energy to accomplish the simplest of tasks is out of the question. Take-out is an essential when days like this strike.

And that is okay. 

Some may say that we are in control if it lasts more than a day.

 Who is anyone to say? 

Being in tune with our mind and body will influence how long the yuck will stay. It may linger for more than a few days.

 And that is okay. 

We must nourish our body and our mind. We must be kind. There will be days that we remain in bed, struggling to lift our head. Days of dread. We cannot be cruel, forgiving instead.

No amount of sleep, drugs, or sunshine can cure a saddened soul but to make ourselves a priority is the goal. Shower to soothe the uncomfortable emotional turmoil within. Because if you do, surely you win. Pampering ourselves feels like a sin. But that is nonsense. Depression is not your friend.

Be brave. Look depression in its face. Put it in its place. Allot it a small space. Inform it that sadness,  you refuse to chase. Be bold in the storm. Do the things it tells you not to do. Be a rebel in the midst. Conquer the darkness with a twist.


It’s back.


You, again.

Familiar foe.

Was I a fool to think you moved on?

Slithering your way on in without effort.

And how convenient it’s beautiful outside

yet dark inside.

I am learning, you see.

You may move in but not consume me.

You are but a mere piece.

A piece I will conquer and be set free of.

Depression, please be satisfied with your portion.

I will soothe you.

I will care for you.

But do not bury me.

We will work together this time around, you and me.


Letter143 is a series of letters written to myself, my loved ones and anyone else who wants to read ’em!

Pain. It’s relative.

Individuals with individual tolerances

For some, childhood emotional pain prevents them from conquering what it means to adult

And others exhaust personal pain with to-do lists, appointments, work

Add a dose of us who live daily with mental illness

And…what we, isss… (yes, Gun n Rose’s lyric)


Yet in my world,

I am at peace

Speaking in terms of today,

Of course


Letters written to myself and loved ones…and anyone else who will listen.

Pandemic Peace

Not once in time, can she define a moment her mind unwind.

In fact, it turn on the dime.

Except…This time.

Amidst pandemic confusion, or is it an illusion?

She assume unprecedented numbers choose delusion.

She nestle her fated conclusion.

Embracing her Queen deep within, she seek to invite anew begin.

A slate so fresh and so clean, its time she shift her lean.

A moments encounter is all it took.

A glance.

A side-look.

She shutter.

A shadow she’d not met

mimic her,

distorting her silhouette.

A mere reflection

of the darkness

her being


In disgust,

she shook.




This were conditioned,

created and enabled

by a

sickened society’s






unsolicited opinions

replace Respect and


An abused child





Open your

Fuck’n eyes

When does it stop?

Man burdening others,

demanding secrets remain concealed.

Generations of lies.

Perhaps the current pandemic is the universe’s way of suggesting we all take a look.

A response to the immense pain our society covet.