New Twist Out

        Since I started my natural journey back in August of 2013 I've been trying tons of products to find the right one for my hair as well as trying different styles and protective styles. For the most part all of my twist outs were, what I call, single twist outs. I had stayed away from flat twists because I was unsure if I'd be able to do the back of my hair. Once I had tried it flat twists became the norm for me since it took less time and my twist outs looked fuller.
single twist out
        Recently I saw a slightly different type of flat twist on a natural hair account on Instagram. I knew my twist out would barely come close since the model had longer hair and her hair was more of a 3a or 3b while mine is more 4b or 4c. Either way it was a flat twist that was angled so when she untwisted her hair it looked like a curly angled bob.
         First I just started off by cowashing my hair. I made sure to only pat my hair a little so that it's still very wet when I start my flat twists. Since I hair dries quickly I always have a water bottle with me so I can keep my hair wet. 
after washing my hair
         Now, even though I'm a little over a year and a half into my journey I still love finding other blogs that give great hair tips and methods. On one site I'd come across the L.O.C. method (liquid. oil. cream). I know next it's going to sound like I'm using a lot on my hair, but it really does work for me.
        First I'll part my hair into six sections, three in the front and three in the back. I start off by wetting my hair a bit more (liquid) then I use my Africa's Best herbal oil which is currently my oil of choice. I only use about a dime size of it on each section, making sure I have my ends covered.
        Next I use a cream which is called Curl La La defining curl custard. Same as the oil, I only use a small amount for each section.
        Sometimes I will go back and used a castor oil around my edges, but I don't really do it often since, for some reason, I started having a slight allergic reaction to the JBCO I was using, months back.
         To make the curl a little more defined and to also add a little more shine I have also been using Curls cashmere curl jelly. I only use a teeny tiny amount of this on each section.

           The last product I use is Jamaican Mango & Lime locking firm wax. I only use this product on my ends when I coil them. Every time I do a twist out my ends always end up a mess because they never stay together then what happens is when I undo my twists they look fine until you get to the ends, whether I attempted to coil them or not. I found that using this on my ends does the trick. With this I also use a tiny amount since I'm only concerned with my ends.
        After I have all that in I begin my flat twist and repeat all of this when I start a new section. 


        When I undo my twists a few days later I'm very happy with the result. I like it a lot better than the result I get from my single twists.
         With all the products I used in this post I'll do a review of each of them soon so that you guys all know why I choose these products for every twist out I've done lately! :)

Review: Kera Care Conditioner

        I haven't posted any reviews on any hair products I've used lately. Sorry I've been a little busy. I came across a few products that my aunt, who was a hair stylist, had. One product I decided to use was Kera Care conditioner.

        Now this conditioner was something I remember my aunt using on my hair all the time when I was younger and would get my hair done in her salon. Those were the old days when I was still using relaxers and flat irons on the regular. Back in those days I remember not having a problem with it and that it made my hair feel really soft.
        This time around I decided to pair it with one of my favorite shampoos, Pantene for natural hair since I'm currently out of the Pantene deep conditioner that I normally use.
        After shampooing my hair I was prepared to smooth on the Kera Care conditioner, put on a plastic cap and let it sit for a few hours. I would do this all the time with my deep conditioner. I was surprised when I poured it into my hand that the conditioner was liquid. I did not remember that from back in the day. I still put it on my hair and let it sit for a few hours. I wasn't too pleased when I put it on. It made my hair feel kind of sticky and I didn't feel like it really coated my hair. The Kera Care still smelled the way I had remembered it. The only way I would describe it when I was younger was like a fruity perfume that would've been popular in the late 90s.
          Once I rinsed my hair it no longer felt sticky put it didn't really do much for my hair. I didn't feel any volume. My hair didn't really feel all that soft. It was just blah. The smell of the conditioner didn't really linger in my hair. I just didn't really like it as much as I once did. I'm not sure if it's that it works better on straight hair or maybe it didn't pair well with my shampoo. I most likely won't use it again unless I run out of conditioner again and have to use it.

Kera Care conditioner: D-

Day 84: Today is Lee's birthday and #LeePace is everything #2015 #365daysofhappy #happygoals #HappyBirthdayLee #Thranduil <3 <3
Day 83: I don't know why I grin like a nerd when it happens but it does brighten my day #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals
"I may not be beyond repair"

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015 ©

Day 82: I love #tattoos and want a million more. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals
Day 81: Jamming out to some #Coldplay with #Bilbo. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals
Day 80: #WeLoveFine makes the best shirts for my #fandom needs. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals #Marvel #IDoWhatIWantThor! #Loki
Day 79: Reminiscing on my high school days. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #fbf #KoRn #FollowTheLeader #HappyGoals
Day 78: Whoever invented garlic bread should've been an emperor. #2015 #HappyGoals #365DaysOfHappy
Day 77: This finale has me so hype right now #Empire #365DaysOfHappy #2015 #HappyGoals
Day 76: one of my favorite shows, #Undateable, is back! #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals
"Do what you want. Just live."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015 ©

"My lust goes deeper than love."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015 ©

"Open your mind to my universe."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015©

I feel a rant coming on.

So I was with my mom and grandma the other day and they were talking about The View and that Rosie left then the topic of her kids comes up. My grandma says something like “I don’t know why she would mix those kids up in that.” Then she kind of trails off because she probably knows I’m going to fucking come for her. I said “Mixed up in what, huh?” So she says “Dating women.” I’m like “Wtf does that have to do with anything? If they’re being raised in a healthy home then they’re not ‘mixed up’ in anything.” I’m so fucking tired of having this conversation with her. It wasn’t necessary to even bring up. Wtf did that even have to do with The View as a whole? How many times do your granddaughters, one of which who happens to be a lesbian, have to fucking educate you before you start to realize that people are people OR to just shut the fuck up when you’re in the presence of one of us? Keep that negative hateful shit to yourself. So then she brings up how she doesn’t understand how people who are trans grow up and get married then later go through a transition and “fuck their family up.” I told her “BECAUSE THEY GROW UP IN A SOCIETY OF HEARING PEOPLE LIKE YOU AND FEEL ASHAMED AND KEEP WHO THEY REALLY ARE HIDDEN UNTIL THEY REALIZE THAT THEY CAN’T KEEP BEING ASHAMED OF WHO THEY ARE ANYMORE!” Then her and my mom bring up a mom who let’s her son dress the way he wants and why can’t Bruce Jenner have done something like that. I said “Like Angelina Jolie is doing with Shiloh? It’s called excellent parenting, but Bruce grew up in a different time and most likely stuck to what people considered normal.” Then they both went on to say that it was no excuse and that everyone gets bullied and tried to compare someone being bullied because they were overweight to someone who was transgendered or gay and that it was no different. So I came back hard “PEOPLE GET KILLED OVER THAT! ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” Like I don’t understand their thought process AT ALL. Then my mom chimes in that people dealing with weight issues do get killed. Have you guys seen that news story because I sure haven’t. I know kids get bullied because of the way they look and unfortunately may commit suicide, but I see almost everyday about someone being beaten, killed, or bullied to the point of suicide because of their sexual orientation or gender. That was deflecting of the worse kind. Of course they go to “Well we get killed because we’re black.” because they think I won’t have a rebuttal. “YOU’RE RIGHT! WE GET KILLED OVER SOMETHING WE HAVE NO CONTROL OVER JUST LIKE THEY DO! AND WHAT?” I was so beyond pissed by this point. Then my grandma brings up that Chaz Bono transitioned into the man he always was and that “Her girlfriend left her right after she did it.” I’m like grandma she may have left for other reasons, but if it was because of that (I’m not sure if it was. I’m not that invested) then obviously Chaz’s ex was a lesbian and not bixsexual or anything like that and didn’t want to proceed with a relationship with a man because Chaz is a man, ya know? You really need to learn the difference between gender and sexual orientation or at least know what you’re talking about before you speak.”
        Like I know some people think I may be harsh because she’s my grandmother but I have dealt with her judgmental, homophobic, racist, transphobic,and every other phobic bullshit for 32 years and I’m fucking tired. I’m tired of her calling people dealing with mental illness “crazy” even though there have been and are several people in our family that deal with mental illness (me being one of them) whether she knows it or not. I’m tired of her calling black people with natural hair “nappy headed” even though she’s been wearing a fucking weave for God knows how long. I’m tired of her fat shaming people like she’s model thin or some shit. Even today she dragged us to her church (where their pastor has been caught with prostitutes on a few occasions I might add. Gotta love them judgmental Christians, amirite?) when it was over we weren’t even out of the parking lot before she was pointing out some woman and saying she needed a girdle. I told her “A person can wear whatever they want.” I’m tired of her talking to me like I’m fucking stupid even though I have to explain EVERYTHING ON THE GODDAMNED PLANET to her, but I’m the dumb one tho. She thinks I don’t know that she used to call me “Melvin” behind my back. See, Melvin is a nephew of hers that is slightly mentally retarded. So I got her fucking retard. She can for real kiss my crazy retarded pansexual androgyne nappy headed fat ass!
        I’m seriously surprised I didn’t burst into flames. I will say this: I know that for the past few years because I’ve been battling depression I have been irritable and closed off and sometimes a downer, but I have to give myself a pat on the back that, despite having been raised around this type of shit all the time, I became an accepting person. I have my moments where that side of my family comes out of me and I may say something judgmental about someones looks or something, but I try my best to catch myself. I wholeheartedly believe that every person should be treated with respect. I don’t care about who you sleep with, what color you are, your economic status, your gender, or anything else. If you treat me with respect, I got nothing but love for you. If you treat me like an asshole then I’m gonna show you I’m a bigger asshole. People are people. That’s it. Why is that so hard to understand?

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015 (c)
Tumblr: AsiaWrites

I Don't Know What To Do

          My world has been turned upside down and all over the place the last few years. I’ve completely lost all sense of who I am. Honestly I lost all of that before my whole world was shattered.
        Back in late 2012 I lost my home. Despite trying to do everything in my power for months beforehand to not leave my new home, Chicago, nothing worked. I had to pack my bags or what was left of my belongings and make my way back to the hell I call Ohio. I sunk low. I sunk so low that even now I cannot see any light or a hope. I put on my mask and would tell myself that there’s a reason for everything. I still somewhat believe that to be true. There’s been instances where I’ve gotten a job just in the nick of time, or had just received health insurance (after not having any for years) month before fracturing my foot. With this major setback my aunt was diagnosed with stage 4 ovarian cancer only 3 months after I moved back. I set in my mind that even though I didn’t want to be in Ohio I’m here at a time when my family needs me.
        Still I’m at a low with myself and not sure how to stand on my own two feet anymore. I’ve given up. I have completely given up. The worst part is the never ending cycle. I have now been unemployed for a little over two years. Since I moved back even looking at or thinking about an application gives me a legit anxiety attack. It goes back to my previous jobs, especially my last one.
          With my first two jobs there was the typical bullshit you have to deal with at a job. It was at a library. Everything started out okay. I felt like my boss was kind of anal about certain things, but I didn’t realize he was a saint compared to the woman that replaced him when he left. The woman that took over was a tyrant with a smile plastered on her face. I am a hard worker and I have zero tolerance for bullshit. Most of the work done in our department was done by me while the other kids, with the same job title as I, did minimal work. One incident that made my blood boil is there was a man that worked in our department, who repaired audio/ visual materials, that would spend most of his time looking at porn on the workroom computer and having phone sex with women who worked elsewhere in the library. I was disgusted and weirded out by it, but the first time I put my foot down was when the computer got a virus and all of the aides got blamed and we were told that we couldn’t use the computer. I informed my boss what really was happening. She did nothing. The last straw with this particular employee was seeing a photo of myself taken from my MySpace sent to him in an email he left open on the computer. I reported him to my boss and the library director. Nothing. A guy I became close with actually quit on the spot one day because of nothing being done about this guy’s actions. I became fed up and asked a manager in another department if I could grab hours there. This librarian always saw how hard I worked and would continuously compliment me whenever she visited our department. She said she’d have to look at her hours. A few days later she walks up to me, as she often would, and said “I’m not sure if anything is going on with you and Paula (my boss), but I don’t think it’d be a good idea for you to come to our department.” I was so confused. She saw everyday how hard I worked. All of the librarians in the whole building knew how hard I worked, actually. If people needed help in other areas I was the one they came too. That’s how well known I was for my work ethic. I asked her what she meant. She only said, “You’ll have to talk to Paula.” I saw red. I could only assume that my boss told this woman false things about me to paint me as a shitty employee. I knew that she probably did this because I was the aide that mostly got things done and if I was gone then nothing would get done also I’m pretty sure she was sexist. She never gave the men shit, but constantly made rude snotty remarks to the women. I knew I had to do anything to get the hell out of there, which was a bummer. Everyone else in that department with the exception of my boss and perv-boy I cared about and with me working in the audio/visual department there was nothing I knew more about than music and movies. I was everyone’s movie/music guide when they couldn’t find a particular item for a patron. Shortly after this I saw a posting in the newsletter about a higher position in our checkout department. I applied and honestly figured I was a shoe-in because this is a department I would help out often without them asking. In the meantime I still didn’t feel right. I had been there almost 8 years and hadn’t progressed and it was probably due to my boss holding me back. At the same time that I had applied to this job I was also applying to colleges around the country since the community college I attended didn’t have journalism at the time. One of my communications professors talked up Columbia College Chicago. I took a chance and got accepted. I withdrew my application for the other position and packed my bags for Chicago. Since my boss blocked me from getting into another department it was nice to be able to one up her and just leave the state.
          Moving to Chicago was another one of those things happening in the nick of time. I got the green light for my student loans, quit my job, and got an apartment all in about 10 days before school started. It took almost nine months to find a job. Again, this was in the nick of time. I was on my last few hundred bucks of my student loans, by that time. Between school, rent, and bills I was running out of cash fast.  Although I was able to finally let out a sigh of relief by landing this job at Borders (I’ll say the name since these bookstores no longer exist) it wasn’t a big sigh. I was told from the start that the location was closing in about eight months. Borders started as a breath of fresh air. I’m glad it was my first job in the city because I met some really cool people there. It was a nice first impression of the city. I’ll admit I was a little intimidated because all of these people had worked together for a while and they were a strong family unit. After a few months we got the news that the store would be open at least another year and I was able to let out the rest of that sigh of relief. To this day I will say that Borders was the best job I ever had. Unless I open my own business or find a job that allows me to be creative, it will continue to be my best job experience. As much as I love the people I worked with I always felt out of place. I tried my best to fit in but was constantly stressed because I was barely making ends meet, had to go days without eating to save money, drop out of school because I just couldn’t afford it and to make matters worse is my hours were constantly being cut. I stuck it out because at least I was at a place where I worked with people I mostly liked and no one else seemed to be hiring. As time went on it became like any other job. The folks who barely did anything got the most hours while people like me were barely clearing 25 hours a week. Of course I bitched about it, considering what I was going through, and because I wanted things to be equal. I got labeled an asshole. Few people cared about what I was going through, luckily, for me, one of those people who did was the general manager. If anyone would call in or if he had extra hours he’d call me. I was so anxious for hours I spent most of my off days in the area just in case I was needed. I was thankful for him. Still I was upset that the manager who made the schedule would cut my hours and give most hours to the chicks he flirted with. I’ll never forget that one of my new friends there referred to me as Malcolm X once. He was being funny, but I took it as a compliment. Yes, I was angry that lazy people were rewarded and no I won’t shut up about it. He told me I had to “play the game”. I’m sorry, but my bills, putting food in my stomach, and keeping a roof over my head was not a game. I came to work, not kiss ass. I had applied to different jobs while I worked there and after 13 months I was able to land a better paying job. I didn’t know that this new job would fuck up my entire existence.
         This last job threw me into a downward spiral really quick. It was at a call center for a well known cable company. If you live in Chicago you probably know the one I’m talking about and if possible you probably hate them more than I do. I pretty much had problems with this place from the start. They rushed new hires through the training process and most of what they taught made no sense and when we would ask about certain things you’d get answers that were pulled out of asses and no answer from different people were ever the same. I tried to be a sport about it since it did pay more than Borders and was something to fall back on since Borders was definitely closing by the time I got this new job. I’ll fast forward to the bits that explain where my anxiety and depression worsened. This call center was in the suburbs which meant I had to take a bus and a train to and from work. I’d have to catch a bus by 7:30 am to catch a train that left close to 8:30 to be at my 11am shift. My shift would end at 8pm, but the train wouldn’t arrive til 9pm and I wouldn’t get home until around midnight. Repeat. That really really wore on me. I pleaded with supervisors to change my shift just an hour so I could work from 10-7 so I could catch the 7:30 train. I really didn’t see what the harm in it was. That way they could have an employee who was well rested because I could get home by 9 instead of having someone running on just a few hours of sleep. They wouldn’t hear any of it. Also just because I made more here than Border made no difference since I added the expense of public transport which was almost $300 a month. I was always reprimanded because I acted in favor of the customer instead of the company. Meaning I wouldn’t try to push and force people to upgrade a cable package if they could barely afford to pay for what they already had. I worked with customers and really listened to what they were saying. My view was to try and keep a customer so the company would still make money versus pushing them into a package that would be more expensive and risk losing them completely because they may want to go with another company that was cheaper. For the most part I was so well with customers that I had a few regulars who would refuse to speak to anyone but me. The first real incident I had there was after working there seven months my father, back in Ohio, had a stroke. This happened on a night before my days off so after work I took a Greyhound home to be with my family. Even though that next day was my day off I called my supervisor and let her know my situation and what I should do. I was just told to worry about my family and to keep her updated. I kept in contact as much as possible, but it seemed as though my supervisor nor manager really had any clear idea on how to handle something like that. No one said how many days I was allowed to be away or the consequences. The day before I was going to go back I received a rude voice mail from my manager saying “SO HOW LONG IS THIS GOING TO TAKE?!” How long is it going to take the only father I have to recover from a stroke? Are you kidding me? I was the one calling everyday to see HOW LONG I could take off and never got a concrete answer. When I did come back and handed over all doctor notes and proof of where I’d been my supervisor had the nerve to ask me “Why didn’t you come back after your dad was out of the dark area?” What she was referring to was my father was in the hospital for about a week before going to a rehab facility for physical and speech therapy. I’m sorry, but I saw that all as a dark area seeing as my father still couldn’t speak by the time I left (and to be honest still has problems with speech four years later) and again I constantly asked how I should’ve handled that when I was away. The only good news from that is the manager that left me the rude voice mail was fired a week later. Still don’t know what for, but I saw it as karma. At this company you were assigned to a supervisor for on a certain amount of months, I think it was 6 or so, and early on I was so done with my first supervisor. I won’t go into all the shady things she did, but two times she really rubbed me the wrong way was saying I didn’t know what I was doing extremely loud while I was on the phone with a customer. This customer was adamant about leaving our company because we couldn’t give her a discount even though she had several in a row. I was boiling that she said something like that to an employee loud enough that the customer possibly heard. Another time was when I was dealing with a customer who was highly upset because a technician screwed up and went to the wrong house TWICE and wanted someone to come out immediately. My hands were tied and my supervisor did nothing to help her even though it was our fault. She refused to talk to the woman even though she asked for a supervisor. The customer kept saying she wanted to cancel and I got so fed up that I was truthful to the woman that my boss refused to help and that if it was up to me this situation would be much different. The customer recognized that my hands were tied and said that she wasn’t mad at me, but at management. I apologized on behalf of that shitty company and sent her to cancellation. The second huge incident with this place was since I had to walk from the train everyday and through every type of weather I developed a stress fracture in my left foot. I walked on it for about a week before getting it checked. The doctor found nothing. I walked on it for about two more weeks until I couldn’t take the pain anymore and went to a different doctor. He slapped a boot on it and signed the papers for a medical leave. While off my pay was fucked up for most of it and dealing with the insurance company and my job was a pain in the ass. I don’t remember how long I was off, but I do know that I was sent threatening letters that my job would be terminated if I didn’t return. I wasn’t fully healed and had to walk back and forth to work in the August heat with that dreadful boot on my foot for at least a few more weeks. The third big incident is where I feel like everything came to a head and I completely broke. On days when calls are really slow, I mean like 20-30 minutes in between calls, they would send people home early if you signed up for it. Usually you’d get off about an hour early or more if this were to happen. This was on a Sunday and anyone who has taken public transport knows that Sunday schedules are always a pain. Halfway into the day I saw a lot of people going home early and was confident that at least an hour before my shift was to end I’d be leaving too. Well that time had come and gone and I was only hoping that they’d call my name early enough to catch the closest train instead of waiting for the next one an hour after my shift ended. Well turns out that whoever was supposed to check up on the list of names to go home early was bullshitting around and had completely forgot. I was called with about 10 minutes to grab my things and run to the train. I got to the parking lot of the train station as the train was pulling away. I literally fell to my knees and started sobbing uncontrollably and hyperventilating. When I was able to catch my breath and calm down I walked into the train station and immediately started calling therapists. That leads me to my second medical leave. This one my pay was screwed with heavily which led me to the hell I live today because of that I was unable to keep my apartment and my landlord refused to hear what was going on and why it was happening. The icing on the cake was I was told to quit my job right then and there. I was able to find another place with someone within a few days and returned to see if I could get my job back. I was told to wait a few days to see what they could do and in the end they told me they tried and tried, but since I was erased from the system I’d have to reapply and go through as a new employee again (never got a call back for that either I might add). I was also told that I should get unemployment. I cried my eyes out a few days before Christmas after talking with the unemployment office because this place, even though I wasn’t there anymore, got their last dig in and lied to me about that too. It was stupid of me to trust them on anything at all.
           My last job really did a number on me. Because of my work schedule and spending most of my day on a train or bus, I had no room for a social life. The friends I made at Borders I had lost contact with because I couldn’t do things with them and the days I did have off were for me to catch up on sleep or to see my therapist. Because I didn’t have time nor energy to make a home cooked meal most of the week I mainly ate fast food and microwaveable dinners. I gained close to 100lbs that, two years later, I still haven’t completely shed. Seeing myself at that weight really depressed me. I had never been a skinny girl, but never in my life had I ever been over 200lbs. The stress of that place really screwed with my body. At this place is where I lost my passion for writing. At the library I had down time to write as well as at Borders. Here I didn’t have the free time at all. Any free time I had I used to try and clear my mind from whatever hellish calls or bullshit meetings I had to endure earlier that day. This job also made me hate people. Yes, most of the time the customers were assholes who complained about an expense that really isn’t necessary to life and really isn’t worth the expensive price they’re paying. The people who made me hate people were my coworkers. The daily topic was always how much the place sucked and which boss screwed who over. It was fun to gossip at first and talk to people who had the same view that I did, but after a while it just became too heavy. I already have my own personal problems with this place and I really didn’t want to take on anyone else’s hatred. That was too much to take. So while I was there I did do a few irresponsible things like go to Lollapalooza three years in a row, see Paul McCartney, see U2 (which was a childhood dream of mine) and do other things that I otherwise never had a chance to do. It was very irresponsible of me to do those things, but going through the torture I felt day in and day out, I felt like I deserved a break every once in a while and do something that would give me at least a little bit of joy. As irresponsible as it was I’d do it again. When I saw Paul McCartney I had probably $10 to my name after getting those tickets, with no clue when I’d be paid again (since this was during one of my medical leaves) and it was worth it. I’ll probably never get to see him again in life, but dammit I did it and I’d do it again.
        Now I’m back in Ohio and I am so lost. I know that I need to get a job but I don’t want to be in a situation where I’m unappreciated and treated like shit. I refuse to get into a position where I spiral again. These experiences have left me fragile. I don’t want to put my health at risk and have constant panic attacks, which was something I started to experience while at the library, or gain a ton of weight, or God forbid, go to a dark place and never find my way out again. I don’t like being broke, but these things give me so much anxiety. I can’t pull up an application with out thinking “What if I get an asshole boss? What if I have to travel over an hour to get to work only to get shit on? What if I have to do the majority of everything? What if I have a family emergency and can’t be there for them because I’ll have a boss who won’t understand?”. Even just looking at an application makes my palms sweaty. I can’t go through these things again. IT. WILL. BREAK. ME. I know it will.
         All I want to do is write and when I was younger my writing was the only thing I wasn’t modest about. People would tell me I was good and I would tell them that they were right. These experiences have stripped me of my confidence in the one thing I was good at. I have no clue what I want to do now. From the time I was a kid I wanted to be a journalist, photographer, travel writer, director, etc and I just have to interest in these thing anymore. I don’t have interest in anything anymore. I just lay in bed and wish I could just disappear. That’s the only thing I feel semi passionate about. If I could just disappear I’d be better off and so would everyone around me. If I don’t have passion then what’s it all for? I was robbed of what I loved. I was robbed of fully enjoying a city I loved living in and more than anything I want to return to Chicago, but the will to fight for it isn’t there. I was robbed of my identity of being a person that liked to help people. Those parts of me no longer exists. I want to do something that I can share with the world and be a voice but the urge to disappear is stronger than that. I hope I can come to a point where I can clock in somewhere and meet new people so that I won’t have to be a burden on a few people anymore and try to gain some normalcy. I wish I could snap my fingers and have all these fears go away so I can continue a normal life, but I just can’t. My life right now is “I can’t.” I just don’t know what to do. I wish I knew what path to take and I wish I had the courage to even pick a path. I’m just so lost. I’m so so lost and the worst part is I’m doing it alone. Deep down I know I’ll find my way, but it’s not happening soon enough. I know the way I feel now has always been there, it just took my last job to bring out that hopelessness in full affect.

Thanks, Fuckcast.

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015(c)
Tumblr- AsiaWrites
Day 75: The sky was a bright pink before turning purple. It doesn't show here, but was beautiful. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals #Dayton #Ohio #nofilter
Day 74: I am so happy I'm done with the creamy crack. Best decision I ever made. #naturalista #naturalhair #teamnatural #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals
Day 73: I was trying to channel some spring weather and it worked. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals #BeautifulDay
"I want to disappear from here."

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015 ©

If boredom could kill I’d be dead right now.

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015 (c) 

Tragic Crush Tales #6

Crush R didn’t really last long. He stepped into my life recently only for things to take a complete nosedive not even 4 months after first talking.
        I first saw R while searching through the profiles of He was actually one of the first people to catch my eye. Problem is he lives in Chicago and I left there a few years ago to get myself financially stable enough to return one day. Weeks later I received a message from him. He came off as a nice guy. He said really kind things about my looks and what I had on my profile and told me a little about himself. By the second or third time we talked we were already exchanging numbers.
        At first he would text me often. He would even send me ‘good morning’ texts. That’s not even something I would get from guys in past relationships. He worked often and would have to take long bus/train rides everyday to and from work. That’s something I was all too familiar with since the last job I had while living in Chicago burdened me with a 2 hour trip both to and from work each day. After a few weeks his texts became less and less. I’m not the type of girl who gets upset if I don’t hear from a guy for a few days, especially since I really understood his situation. Even without that factor, I’ve just never been that girl. I would text him to wish him a good day at work and sometimes wouldn’t hear back for days. Again, no problem. Just get back to me when you have a free minute. What I did have a problem with is sometimes when I would text him not even an hour later he would be tweeting his ass off. It’s a pet peeve to text or message someone, who takes days to message back, only to see them extremely active on social media. I’ll give him this, he’s not on social media a whole lot, but to blow me off is a little rude.
        A little over three months of talking to him we both kind of drifted. I had things going on in my life and I just felt like he was wasting my time. There were things from the start that bugged me about him, but I was trying to step outside of myself and not be so judgmental. I usually judge a book by its cover and I want to stop doing that. One of the very first red flags that came up is he’s a 36 year old man who types like a 14 year old in the days of MySpace. What I mean by this is Hi5 t3xts wud read l!K d!S. As someone who wants to be a writer this drove me fucking insane. No teenager should type like this let alone someone knocking on 40′s door. I looked past it though. Once I could decipher what he was saying he was saying all the right bullshit. The thing is I learned quickly that it was just that. Bullshit. In the past few years since I’ve been hurt by so many friends and potential mates I now REALLY listen to what people are saying and NOT saying. I’m 32 and have no time to mess around with a person and realize they’re not the one. Most days when R would talk about relationships and what he was looking for he would always just mention that he was just looking for “someone” or that he just “really needed some woman” in his life. It was never “I’m looking for a woman with ____ qualities.” He didn’t necessarily have to say that he was looking for someone like me, but most people say what it is that they’re looking for in a person, not just the next person that is willing to talk to them. It just always stood out to me. The second red flag was his obsession with “redbones”. I had never even heard of the term before him. Like a lot of young black men, I’ve seen lately, there’s this sick mentality that women of white or of a lighter complexion are more attractive than women with dark skin. Since I’m looking for a lifelong partner I couldn’t imagine starting a family with someone that has such a skewed view on his own people. I refuse to raise a daughter who will always be worried if her skin is light enough based on what she may overhear her father say and I definitely refuse to raise a son that will put down women based on their complexion. That was a huge turnoff for me, especially since I started to notice that he was more attracted to a skin color than actual features on a woman. Too many times did he bring up my light skin and even once grilling me asking me were my parents or grandparents light skinned I guess to see where I got it from. Whatever that means. The third red flag is how ill he spoke of the mother of his daughter. After just a few conversations with him he brought up that she was an asshole. Not sure why he felt the need to tell me that after just getting to know me. I know some people have horrible exes, but to bad mouth them to other folks you don’t know and on social media while you have a child with this person is a bit much. The final red flag which really made me throw up my hands is that he would continuously flirt with other chicks online.
          I’m not 100% the jealous type, but most women will tell you that when it comes to other girls it’s them we’re worried about, not you, because we know how shady and slimy other chicks can be. Well, around the times when I’d text him and not get a reply, he’d be on Twitter and I noticed that sometimes he’d talk to one girl in particular. It didn’t happen a lot, but enough for me to notice. It was never a “Hey, what’s up?” …. I’m sorry. I meant it was never a “Hay wHuts uP?”. It was more flirtatious like heart emojis and telling her how fine she was etc. etc. So naturally I’d get pissed because I’d take the time out of my day to text him sweet messages to let him know that I was thinking about him and he would have the nerve to not reply, but would message another chick. I felt that if he could do that out in the open then no telling what private messages are like and not only that, she lived in Chicago too. One day it all came to a head because he did it and I called him out on it. I was dealing with my aunt’s declining health and was actually on my way to the hospital when I saw his tweet to this girl. I went off. He knew what I was dealing with at the time and knew that I didn’t appreciate him constantly talking to these other girls if he supposedly liked me. The excuse I got was that I did it too. What he was referring to is sometimes I’ll RT pics of male models, internet famous people, or actual famous people. One person in particular he brought up is a pic I RT’d of Michael B. Jordan. I informed him that he was an actor, and his reply was that if he didn’t know who he was then he wasn’t famous. I would guess he wouldn’t know MBJ seeing as he doesn’t even know what The Walking Dead was and that is the most popular show on TV. The logic was still stupid. I only know Zayn and Harry of 1D, does that make the other dudes less famous? No. I have no idea who Fifth Harmony is. Guess what? Still famous. I love Zendaya, but you know what? I have no idea what she does, but dammit she’s still famous. If R wanted to message every female celebrity or vine famous chick on this planet I could give 0 fucks. It was the fact that he was reaching out to accessible women and disrespecting me when I said that it made me uncomfortable. If me tweeting Idris Elba or any other celebrity made him uncomfortable if he had said something I would have toned it down out of respect for his feelings. I think what hurt me most was all the while, beforehand, he’d tell me that he couldn’t wait to meet me and things like that then turn around and become a jerk about something like this. Oh, and he also called me a “mother fucker” or in his broken  English “mfs”. What grown man calls a woman that? It was all so very childish and I couldn’t believe that this person that I barely knew was bringing me down to their level.
          By the time this was all said and done I was through. Good for him for saying and doing all the right things for all of about 3 weeks. The last thing I got from him which really made me put the period on the end of my sentence with him is he called me about a week before my aunt passed away. When he called I didn’t talk much. My mind was elsewhere as well as being extremely tired from sitting in the hospital from early in the morning to late at night. He knew all of what I was going through. Shortly after we hung up he subtweeted: “Her attitude was real shitty”. My aunt was dying and my attitude was “ real shitty.” I’m more than happy I’m done with that. Most men I’ve dated have been a few years younger than me. R was 4 years older than me and the most immature man I’ve ever had to deal with.

-Asia Aneka Anderson 2015 (c)
Day 72: Every month should have a #FridayThe13th #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals #13
Day 71: #Lipstick! I will not stop until I have every color ever. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals
Day 70: I've been trying hard to cut out a lot of people this year, a few in particular. Even though I may not talk to these people doesn't mean I don't think about them everyday because they meant a lot to me. I'm taking this year to realize that I should walk away from these people because it's truly what's best for me. It's a harder process than people make it out to be, but I know I will eventually find the strength to move on. #2015 #365DaysOfHappy #HappyGoals #GottaDoMe