The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: The Kid Needs A Break

         I had thought about making a video on my channel for this topic, but I decided to make this post while the idea was fresh on my mind. 

       About a week ago I saw a post on Facebook in a group that I'm in that deals with black women and how they handle mental illness. This mother wrote how her teenage daughter was being challenging as of late and that she was on the verge of canceling Christmas. My shock was seeing all the other women encouraging her to not get anything for her child, when I've seen many of these member's detail the hardships they had growing up with their parents not seeing them as their own person and how a child should be able to express themselves and that children can get stressed, etc. Don't get me wrong, if you have a kid that is continually disrespectful towards their parents, that's a different story and sometimes you have to take whatever punishment you see fit. When you have a kid whose attitude is out of the ordinary it makes sense to try and have a one on one with them to find the root cause. I know that trying to get a teenager to open up is like pulling teeth, but they at least deserve the opportunity to open up.

        I know that it's easier said than done and that for me it's easy to say these things because I don't have a child. I understand how challenging it can be, especially when dealing with a teenager. I still believe that parents lose sight that children go through moods and emotions like adults do. Imagine being a teenager in 2020. You can't see your friends, your education is iffy, there's no dating, and now you're primarily in the house. 2020 is hard on us as adults and I couldn't even imagine being 15 and wanting to talk to your friends in the cafeteria, or see your crush in algebra, or missing school dances and events. Everyone's lives have turned upside down and our kids don't know how to express it and even prior to covid parents rarely gave their children the opportunity to be open and honest or make mistakes, have moods, have space, etc. Even without a pandemic the thought of treating children as property or servants always irked me. The idea of hounding a kid to do certain chores and not even realizing that child may be going through something like overwhelmed with homework, a fight with a friend, or they're heartbroken, and here we are hounding them for something that can be done the next day. Teaching a child responsibility is important, and so is structure, but allow them to decompress every once in a while. Allow them to be.

        Overall, don't take Christmas away from kids this year, of all years. They deserve some type of normalcy in 2020. That's if you're able to. I know a lot of families have had their livelihoods taken away because of covid, but still let them hold on to that Christmas spirit. It also doesn't hurt to really sit down and have conversations with your kids. Don't allow your kids to be like so many of us were growing up, feeling like it was us against the world or being told that we didn't have anything to stress about as if work and bills are the only things that bring stress. I know that this post has been mostly about teens, but this goes for all kids. Toddlers can be stressed because they don't know how to tell you what's wrong and are still figuring things out. Kids in elementary school can be stressed because of trying to figure out friendships and schooling. That doesn't even factor in the kids who are going through a parent's divorce, the death of a loved one, verbal/physical abuse, disease, homelessness, etc. They are people who go through all the range of emotions as well and we as adults should be the ones to guide them through that in a healthy manner that doesn't always lead to punishment.

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)

Tragic Best Friend Tales #5

         I reeeallly haven't done one of these in a while. I even contemplated whether or not to do this one. I decided to give the green light because, ultimately, this is how I process things, work through them, and eventually (hopefully) let go.

        Friend P I've known for, sheesh, close to 15 years or so. We have very much had our ups and downs over the years, but always manage to come back together in the end. That's just how our friendship works. There were times where we'd fall out and once we'd come back together I'd think to myself "Shouldn't we have a conversation about that?", but we'd never have a conversation and we'd move one like nothing had happened or under the notion that our friendship didn't need all that spelling out of a situation. We were good. Underneath it all, I know it's because neither of us likes confrontation and that more so, on my end, I know how sensitive she can be and I never wanted whatever I said to come out too harsh and end up hurting her. I love her. She's my best friend. So, I'd go along with not talking it out or talking it out in passing or just the surface and all would be well. 

          Our friendship fell out over everything from guys, to me moving to Chicago, to flakiness, to just overall growing apart. Even though all that we've stuck by each other through everything. P was one of the only people I could talk to about certain things that I was embarrassed to talk through with other people. She got a side of me that no one else got because of the simple fact that I knew that she would get what I was going through. We bonded over our families, with both of us having overbearing mothers and we both did the best we could to try and walk each other through those parental incidents, or at the very least find the humor in it enough for us to not feel defeated by it anymore. We knew that at least in that sense neither of us were alone. 

        This year everything is different. To blame Covid or to not blame Covid. I don't know. 2020 kind of turned us all upside down. I'm not sure if the uncertainty of this year made the friendships hard or if being apart brought things to light or maybe even a little bit of both. On my end, the hurt came from around the time of the murder of George Floyd. There was something about his death that left me depressed. Legit depressed. Be it the normal feeling of not knowing what to do when police brutality happens or the feeling of being stuck because we're in the middle of quarantine when this happened so now I'm really stuck in a state of not knowing what to do. His death left me in tears for days and then piled on the anger of seeing friends and co-workers silent. How can my white friends sit there and not say anything? I didn't get it. How can my job sit there and not say anything when you have a workplace that is primarily black? At that moment I put my foot down. I made it clear that I couldn't take the silence anymore. Unfortunately, P was one of the silent ones and it hurt my heart. It really did. With racism at an all-time high I needed more from allies than a black square. Our pain deserved more than that. It made me reflect on the times in our past that had racial undertones that I overlooked or saw as no big deal because that was my friend. I remember years ago of her crying on my shoulder about a boyfriend that was, pretty much, if not totally, a skinhead. I gave her the advice any friend would, but I always wondered why she would cry to her black friend about a guy who openly called a mixed friend of hers a "nigger". I look at most recently, a year ago, of her wanting to come work with her all the while having a coworker who was openly racist and a manager that did not want to fire her. I looked at it that my friend was trying to get me out of a position that I hated, but at the same time why set me up like that when you know I'll definitely not tolerate that? And why not go above your boss's head and report it? All of this put me into my thoughts of thinking "Does this woman really have my back as an ally or just as an almost acquaintance like friendship?" It hurt my heart to have to think to myself that maybe she doesn't. I still went through that it was the pressure of this year and being in quarantine that was making this feeling much stronger than it normally would have been pre-covid. Again, with us not liking confrontation I thought over and over in my head how do I start a conversation or how I should move past it or do I open up the dialog or wait until the opportunity presented itself. I did the latter. She once texted me to see if my job was hiring and how it was going. I told her my thoughts on my new job. Not bad, but pay not enough for what we do, and that their response on race relations really fell short. Silence. Our conversation was back and forth until I brought that up and I never got a response back from her. That really hurt. It almost said to me as if my concern about it was annoying or not worthy of a response. I didn't even know where to go at that point. Now I'm just included in mass texts for holidays, but a no thought when I respond back. I feel as though I'm a non-factor or not worth the recognition after a decade-plus friendship.

        A part of me would also notice things I'd be left out of and I overlooked it as it's something that maybe was only between her and her coworkers, but then there'd be all these pics on social media of her "and her girls" and it would often make me wonder where I fit it. Eventually, I started to just feel like the venting friend. The one you'd vent to, but not the one that was presentable enough to want around for a girl's night out. Don't get me wrong. To be that person to someone where they can be raw with you and show you their bare self is something special, but sometimes it would be nice to be around for the fun times too, not just around when you need a cry. I felt like maybe I wasn't good enough to be around these other people. It was a sucky feeling.

        I won't sit here and pretend that I'm the best friend in the world. If you look at my last TBFT you will see that is not the case. For P, I wasn't in her wedding. That wasn't her call. That was mine. I was gung ho about it until I found out the wedding was the weekend of my birthday and an evening wedding to boot. I was set to make a trip that weekend to Chicago and to take a bus in the middle of the night on a Friday, after the wedding or that Saturday morning would've caused a domino effect for the events I had planned on getting into. I chose me. My birthday plans fell through and I still went to the wedding, but not as a bridesmaid. I'm sad I didn't get to be a part of that for her. I have no regrets about anything in life, but I do wish that had gone differently. Part of me still feels like she's still upset about that and maybe wants to sever our friendship. That I can never be certain on, but it's a feeling that I have and it would be valid on her part.

        The most hurtful is that I did/do consider her son my nephew. I love that kid to bits. I'm hurt that she's about to have a little girl, and she didn't even tell me. I found out with the rest of social media. I never got a happy birthday even when she and I have a running joke on our birthdays. I'm trying to figure out navigating life without this person who was a huge part and without her child I'd grown fond of and of a child I may never meet. She was a big enough part of my life that if my boyfriend had ever wanted to propose to me she'd be one of the people he'd have to get a blessing from. 

        As I've said in other TBFT's these stories aren't all bad. I don't always focus on the negative and see that person as the enemy. These people in our lives we take with us, the good and the bad. For P I will never forget how she was there for me after my miscarriage. No one was there for me around that time like she was. She was there for me when my relationship was falling apart. I have never been able to confide in anyone like I have with her. I have many an inside joke that I'll never forget because of her. Red trucks, the best road trips, fighting in bowling alleys, and not being able to eat pizza without pineapple. That will always be a part of our friendship story. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)        

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: From One to Three

        2020 has been a hard year for many, if not, all of us. Even if, like me, 2020 has given you numerous blessings, it goes without saying that this year has been nothing short of chaotic. With this year being so clouded with illness, death, and uncertainty I  still managed to make this one of my best years in the past, at least, eight years. I started January with a new job, that allowed me to work from home, once this whole pandemic blew up. I couldn't imagine working at my previous job, in a retail pharmacy, once Covid was at it's height. The amount of people I can imagine me yelling at for not having on a mask or social distancing is enough to make my head spin. I also managed to grab my degree, although I am bummed that I didn't get to have a graduation. I was really looking forward to that after all the hard work I had put in. I finally finished my novel and hope to find a publisher very soon. Also, on my birthday, in October, I got a fur baby. A little hamster that I named Lady Samwise Hamgee.
        One of the most memorable moments came from one of tragedy. Unfortunately, on October 1st I lost my favorite uncle to covid. It was a shock, and still is, almost two months later. One day after his funeral I get a facebook message saying "Hey, I think you're my sister." It was from my half brother that I hadn't see since I was about 12 years old, and even then that was the only time I had ever seen him. He had heard of our uncle's death through his mom finding the obituary and unfortunately through that they learned of our dad's death. We talked for a while on the phone and pretty much introduced ourselves. I got to hear about him, his life, and about his family. It made me sad that my dad didn't get to meet his grandkids or even more so that my brother didn't know about our dad's death. I didn't know where to look, didn't know his mother's name, or if they even still lived locally, but I still made a point to add him into our dad's obit, because, in my life or not, he was family. To add to that I also have a half sister. I had never met her (but always knew about her), but my brother was determined to find her as well, which in a matter of a few days, he had. Earlier this month I had the great opportunity to meet with them and some of their families. I'm an aunt to 12 nieces and nephews and I'm no longer an only child. Now I'm the baby. I'm so amazed at how my family seemed to grow overnight. I wish we had all met at a better time when the world wasn't under so much fear, but there's no better time in the present. I'm already psyched to go visit my brother at his home in SC once Covid is over and hopefully meet all of my sister's kids as well. I hate that it took the death of my uncle to finally connect with my siblings, but it was definitely a light in something that was really dark. Finding my big bro and sis was a big, if not the biggest, highlight of my year. I feel like a part of me that was missing is full now. I know my dad is probably glad that we all found each other. I know that he made that moment possible and I thank him for that. 

- Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)

         I have done a horrible horrible job of keeping up with this blog. 2020 has had a way with making me completely bored and feeling like I have no time to do anything, all at the same time. I've spent the last several months working on my novel, which I have finished, but was also working on increasing my word count until I got word that my novel was not picked for a competition that would have given me an agent and possibly have my work published. So I just kind of eased up on the editing, for now. I'll get back to it eventually and work on the process of finding my own agent and publishing company or possibly even just self publishing. I have a few pieces I'm working on right now that I hope to get posted here in the new few days. I hope you guys have had a pretty decent year and that the rest of the year goes smoothly. 

        So guys, she's almost done! The deadline for me to submit just the first 30 pages of my novel is only a few days away. If you check my last video on my channel you'll see me talking about getting a novel finished for Graydon House Books who is looking for black writers. I have spent the last month or two writing and I'm almost done! Even though the deadline is only 4 days away I will still submit unfinished (if I'm not able to finish in the next 4 days) because they only requested people enter the first 30 pages. So far I have 17 chapters done so I think I'm in the clear lol. I know how it will end and I only hope to have 2 more chapters to do. This is my query letter and I'm excited and nervous and everything in between. I can't wait to see what happens and I can't wait to move on to the next one. Tell me what you think of the query letter. I shaved it down a lot so that it's only one page. Wish me luck!

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Work in Progress



        My latest video is finally up. I'm discussing the current novel I'm working on that I hope to have a first draft of done by the end of August or early September. I also thought I'd give a little synopsis of what the novel is about. Thank you all so much for your support. You don't know how much it means to me. Give a like, follow, subscribe, or comment :)

        Hey, everyone. I know it's been a minute, but the good new is that the motivation bug has hit me. I've been working on my novel and have knocked out four chapters in the past few weeks, which brings me up to chapter either (I did the first three chapters during a novel writing class when I started back to school this year).
        I'm so incredibly excited and so very proud of myself. My goal is to have this done by a deadline for a publishing company in September*. I don't see this novel going more that 14-15 chapters so I'm very excited to be close to the end. I can't wait to share this with the world. I have been on and off working on this novel (among others) since about 2011. It's been a long road and I'm happy to see a clear path ahead of me. I have three other novels that's been sitting idle and unfinished for years as well as poetry and a few short stories that I'd like to all get out there eventually. I hope this is an amazing start to a career I've dreamed of since I was a little girl. A best selling author is the goal and a best selling author I will be.

* Black writers there are a few publishing houses that are looking for black writers and accepting submissions. Deadlines are end of August-early September depending on which one you'd like to submit to. Take a look and get your work out there

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: I Am He and He is Me

         It's that time of year again. That time that I dread. Every June 17th since 2016 I'm forced to relive the day that changed my life forever. The day I lost my dad. I'll never get over the universe's sick joke of taking him two days before Father's Day. Every year I get gut punched twice. "Hello, Asia here's the day your father died. Oh, and here's the day set aside to celebrate him." Thanks, universe! Thank you so much for that precious memory.
       This year it feels slightly heightened with everything that's happening in the world. Thinking of George Floyd's daughter spending her first father's day without one. Knowing that Rayshard Brooks' daughters are about to feel the same as I do. I wonder if they were daddy's girls like me. That's the hardest. I crumbled at the age of 33 losing mine. I couldn't imagine him being ripped from me before even reaching high school age. That's why this year it hits different.
        My dad was the one who tried to educate me about the injustices we face. I heard, but never listened. I was a kid. None of that had to do with me. That was all in the past, right? That's what naive innocent me thought. My dad knew better and he made sure I knew better. Like him I use my voice. I speak out and I stand up. In that he lives in me. He stood up for what he believed in. He said it with heart and he said it with force. I try to channel that in when I speak. The strength to fight for what's right.
        My father taught me about my ancestors. That started my love for autobiographies and history books. While every other kid wanted to read ghost stories or fiction I was in the library every week picking out books of black icons from Ida B. Wells to Marian Anderson to Jackie Robinson. I was forever learning. That thirst for knowledge didn't come from school. That came from William Anderson.
        He is the first black man I have ever loved and he was a great example of a caring, creative, knowledgeable, strong individual. I happy to be a part of him. I am more than happy to carry on his voice. I will be elated the day that I can have a child and pass on everything he ever was and everything that I am to the next generation of Andersons'. That would be my greatest honor.
         Still every June 17th I hurt and shut down. I still find myself trying to make sense of something that is and will always be a part of life. Still... Still I can't help but ask why. Four year later I still grieve. Time does heal some wounds but never all. I wish he could've made it this year to see me graduate. I wish he had made it to 2018 to know that there was a possibility that he'd be a grandfather. All of these milestones and the ones to come have an empty spot there. I know he's there for all those moments. I know that the grandchild that almost was is there with him now. The could've, should've, would'ves are all empty because that's not how life was supposed to go, unfortunately. No matter the hurt this is what the universe had planned. It's awful and it sucks, but this is what it is. That's the way life is. I'm thankful to have had him as long as I did.
         My father is gone, but never ever forgotten. I am he.

- Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020(c)

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: No Longer A Token

        **LATE POST** This is my most recent and latest video. I'm discussing the friendships I've kept in my past where more often than not I ended up being the token black friend. I'm making boundaries in my life and putting my foot down as far as letting macro and micro aggressions go unchecked in my life. I have to hold the people in my life accountable, and most importantly, myself.

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: I'm Fed Up

        **LATE POST** I initially made this video for Instagram, but I had a lot to get off of my chest with yet another black man killed for no reason. I posted it on my channel and forgot to make a post here on the site.

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: We Would Never Sleep and You'd Still Never Get It

         In the wake of George Floyd's death and recent protests there is one question that rings in my head. It's a question that was asked of me by a former coworker around the time of the murder of Trayvon Martin. The question was something to the effect of "When things like this happen why does one story get more coverage than another?" Although that question annoyed me because it was the first of many times that a white friend would look to me to be their guide in racial injustice who assumed that somehow I knew all the answers to everything black and also because... How in the hell am I supposed to know?! I'm not CNN. Still that question sticks with me today because it was, in a way, a valid question. Why does that happen?
         I've realized that anytime news breaks of a George Floyd, or a Sandra Bland, or a Tamir Rice there are always little side stories that emerge that quickly get lost in the smoke. For instance a week after the murder of Mr. Floyd CNN ran a piece about a man named Javier Ambler the III. He is most likely the reason the popular show Live PD was just canceled because Mr. Ambler was murdered while their cameras were rolling. A story that got lost in the smoke even though a popular cable show may have been there to film his death. This was in March of 2019 and was only spoken about in mere minutes almost 15 months later.
        I now have one theory, among many which would be way more obvious, as to why a lot of stories go unheard. Of course a lot has to do with it perhaps not being filmed and no witnesses, but I also feel that if we were to hear about every single one that's all the news would be. In three months time we've heard about the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd. Think of the amount of people in between that are in small backwoods towns that were murdered, the ones that don't get filmed, the ones that are marked as missing and presumed dead. If we were to hear every one of these stories that's all we'd see on the news and up and down our newsfeeds. Just endless black death. That's how often this is happening. Yet still there comes no justice. In the past week two (or three, because again this happens so often that one often, and sadly, loses track) men have been found hanging from trees. Today a young activist was found murdered days after tweeting about being sexually assaulted. It goes on and on. Absolutely endless. 
       The thing is even if every news outlet covered every story or every case of injustice would you still hear it? Would you still be determined to say "All lives matter" in response to "Black lives matter"? Would you try to learn about systemic oppression? Would you listen to women tell their stories of assault? Would you still deflect and speak about black on black crime? Would you still deny your privilege? Would you still keep your eyes closed when presented with endless black death? Because the sad truth is.... a lot of you would. This is why we march, we vote, we scream, we fight. 

-Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020

Whyte Noise: The Sound Of Silence

Loud silence
Fleeting solidarity
We can take no more
12:00 a.m. a new day 
Back to your regularly scheduled program
Post your lattes
Your DIYs
And your kids
Another generation unable to speak
Seasoned with a pic of a vibrant sunrise
While cropping out the burning streets below
Your privilege allowing you to lift your veil
While we are still shrouded in darkness
Yet your laziness expects me to be your guiding light
Ah, I love the sound of white silence in the morning
Your sudden screams of deflection
"Omg look at the thugs looting"
Followed by our tired sighs
"Omg look at the white guys in disguise
Who break and destroy
Only to run away when the heat starts to rise"
We'll be right back to your regularly scheduled program of tone deafness
Ill timed quotes
MLK with a side of Gandhi and a dash of John Lennon
A little James Baldwin if you nasty
You're so woke
Then your loud and proud "buts"
Drowning out the voices of the unheard
"Stop! I'm being oppressed"
"That black man wants me to follow the rules"
Oh, the humanity
Clutch of the pearls
You master of oppression, you
Silence while you steal black culture and loot black lives
You praise the style and moves Justin Timberlake
As if Usher didn't do it back in '98
Pay the copycat
And when the people whose culture you stole asks you to have their back
Just do the minimum
Give yourself a pat on the back
Then turn the sound down 
And bring the silence back (Yeah!)
Appropriators don't know how to act
Change the channel
Another murder porn is on
A world premiere
Then you begin to sing your favorite songs
"Well He Must've Done Something Wrong"
"We Don't Have the Full Story"
And the #1 smash hit
"He Didn't Comply"
Outage ensues
Another moment of silence
Followed by a rerun of the tone deaf chronicles
#AllLivesMatter 20/20 special edition
Meanwhile mere objects are more valuable than mine 
Did you say that TV was $599 and designer handbags worth hundreds?
That sounds pretty steep when compared to the price black life
Target becomes your importance
Over the target on my back
Proof all lives do not matter
If my value is less than that of a coat rack
You kneel not in solidarity
But instead on the neck of our existence
Mother's without sons
Father's bury daughters
We can take no more
But I'm sorry
Did we interrupt your baseball game with a revolution?
There it is again
The deafening silence
I'll let you get back to your regularly scheduled program

-Asia Aneka Anderson, "Whyte Noise: The Sound of Silence" 2020(c)

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Grieving the Unknown

         **LATE POST** I uploaded my latest video to my channel a week ago, or more. It took me a while because with the new layout of blogger it would never populate my video even if I searched it with the link. I had to go back to the old style of Blogger to do so (That would've been helpful if I had known that a week ago).
          In my latest video (which I've labeled with a **trigger warning**) I'm discussing a loss that I've written about several times before. I recorded this video the day after what would've been my baby's first birthday. I'm discussing my grieve process from that moment of miscarriage to even now as I still try to navigate my way through life after expecting it to change in such a great monumental way.

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: It's All Part of the Plan

        So I'm sitting here in quarantine and the creativity still ain't hitting me like I want it to. I'm working from home and business is slow. Maybe watch Netflix? Meh. Can't really focus on it. Maybe read a book? Meh. Once I start to get into it I get a call and in the end figure it' not worth it unless I can curl up, get cozy, and dive in completely. 
        One day after getting off the phone I scroll through Instagram and come across a horror account that I follow that posted a short clip of a horror video game. I got a little curious and headed to the comments to see if anyone mentioned the title of the game. A few had and I went to Google to search away. Down the rabbit hole I went. I came across a YouTuber that I will admit I quickly became obsessed with, and that's Corey Kenshin
        I've been glued to Corey's channel for a good month now and let me tell you that he's actually got me inspired again. Seeing his work makes me want to create. It makes me want to keep pushing. I know that sounds odd. He's a gamer that makes videos of himself playing mostly horror games or posting his #SpookyScarySunday of scary videos and I'm out here trying to be a writer and with my channel content being much more personal, intimate, and maybe, at some times, gloomy. I get that the content doesn't match, but I'm mesmerized at the growth. He's been humble, creative, and totally himself the entire time he's had his channel. He hasn't had to put on a fake persona or make some kind of gimmick to get people to like and follow him. I dig that. And although what we are doing is total opposite the goal is the same. He's reaching people by being himself and doing what he loves and that's what I hope to accomplish with mine.
        You can see that I've been trying to be more active. There is a small drawback to that. When it comes to the topics that I talk about they are much deeper and close to my heart. So when it comes to my channel there may not be an everyday upload or even every week, as sometimes these topics do take a lot out of me. 
        I do aspire to be that, at least, once a week person. That being said I'm taking my time learning how to edit, create thumbnails, add music, and all that good stuff. I'm starting that with a new video I recorded a few days ago. This video is a lot more personal than the few videos I have up now. With this topic being so close to my heart I'm taking my time with it. I want it to be right for right now. My channel will grow with my ability, but as of right now I want this to be the best to my ability as it is today.
        As my channel grows, I hope to incorporate better edits. For instance animated intros and things like that. I plan to do things like that for videos I may do when I talk about my writing or any projects that I have that are writing related. When it comes to my videos that are more me speaking to you about my life and experiences I hope to keeps those more subtle. I've actually made a few intro and outro edits for this new video I'm editing. Those will be at the bottom of this post. As time goes on I don't see myself like a Corey Kenshin with 6M subs. I just don't think I talk about the sort of things that 6M people would want to hear... and honestly nor would I want to. Just the thought of it makes me nervous to have 100 people hear me bear my soul let alone 6M. But here I go on this journey. Baring my soul for all of you to see whether it be through me or my characters. Either way it is a piece of me. 
*Let me know what you think of these edits I have for my next video** For whatever reason I cannot add the outro gif here. Check it out on my IG*

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Does Trauma Cause Memory Loss?

     I finally got around to uploading another video. Recently I've been thinking back on a chaotic part of my life and how that, now, I have trouble recalling some of the things that brought me some sort of calm during that time period. I'm a big pop culture buff and a lot of the things I enjoyed around the time period of 2008-2015 have somehow slipped my mind, with the exception of movies, bands, etc that were HUGE then. I made this video to discuss how this has effected me. 

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: Adapt, Adopt, and Improve

                         I started this blog in 2014. I got inspired to start on Blogger from seeing my best friend post her amazing artwork projects and vegan recipes among other things. I had so much of my work that I had back logged laying around in tons of journals and folders. Starting this blog offered me an outlet to share all of this work I had created. It offered me some inspiration that I had been lacking at that point in my life. Finding this space gave me the inspiration to branch out and create new and funny ways to tell my stories like my "Tragic Tales" or more recently "The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind". It gave me the opportunity to talk about topics that are important to me in ways that I hope others can relate to. I bare my soul in these topics instead of disguising myself in my characters. With my increasing need to bare my soul I got inspired to start an YouTube channel in connection with my blog. I'm still in my baby stage when it comes to my channel, but this blog gave me the confidence and motivation to take that next step. 
      I say all this because, slowly but surely, I've made progress with this blog. I may not have always known which direction I was going with it but I knew I was at least going forward. There came the Facebook page, the IG page, the YT channel, and now, my most recent step, as of last week, was buying my domain. I started with way back in 2014 and now I'm announcing that my domain is This is mine. This is my baby. I will continue to nurture her and watch her grow into something beautiful. For the people out there who take the time to read my work and watch me rant. Thank you. I appreciate your input and your warmth. Here's to a productive quarantine. I'm currently working on beefing up a poetry book to publish as well as possibly publishing my first short story. The on to much bigger and better things beyond that.

Thank you so so much for your support. 
       SCHOOL. IS. OVER.  Let us rejoice in the fact that I don't have to look at another equation, have to find out a Y axis, or find out what x is when I'm still confused as to why x moved over to math in the first place. I will say that I wish I had pay more attention to my last biology course so that maybe I could understand more of this virus business, but at the same time, by that last semester my brain was super fried. It is also worth mentioning that I started out the year with a new full time job where I DON'T have to work weekends and I DON'T have to work nights. A win-win.
     I say all of this to say that now I feel like I have the time to write more. Now I will say that with this pandemic going on my anxiety is all over the place. That means that my inspiration for new ideas is kinda shot because my brain is going into overdrive and overthinking about dying. So panic + creativity= mush. That's a mathematic equation that I can understand. Several months ago I submitted to a contest that was looking for poetry books. I didn't win, but I still kept the collection. Lately I've been trying to reach deep down for new material to add to the collection as well as get together some oldies but goodies so that I can test out self publishing. So far I feel like I have I have a good collection together. Right now I'm just taking my time to put it in an order that I like to publish it. Once that's all said and done then I can go back to writing my novels that I've been slowly working on for the past 72 years. 2020 might be the shittiest year of all time, but it may be the year that I can finally get my work out there.
         December of 2019 was my last semester at Sinclair Community College. I received my degree in the mail early March of this year. I spent the beginning of 2020 making plans for graduation weekend. I thought of how I'd find the right dress to wear under my cap and gown, getting my nails done that weekend (even though I am not a girl who is really into those sorts of things), and had a gift certificate already purchased for a massage that I was saving for just this moment. It would be a weekend for me. A weekend to celebrate all that I had worked so hard for, for so many years. All the years of putting school on hold because life got in the way or too complicated had finally come to an end. There was finally an end to that chapter. Then, as we all know, 2020 is the year that the world decided to fall apart. Without hesitation my school cancelled graduation before any lock down orders, self quarantines, or peaking U.S. death tolls.
            A week before graduation I made my bi weekly trip to Walmart for groceries decked out in gloves and a mask. Walking among people dressed the same. A scene out of a Twilight Zone. I came across this plaque for 2020 on a display for graduates that looked sparse. That was due to either 2020 grads buying these things in order to hold on to some small celebratory moment of this graduation season that will never happen or perhaps there wasn't much to begin with for fear that, with all ceremonies cancelled, that it wouldn't sell. I stared at it contemplating if it was worth it to buy until I finally made the decision that there was still something to celebrate. There was still an accomplishment that was made that should be honored.
         Although on May 3rd I didn't get to walk across any stage or get to hear my family and friends cheer for me I still want to hold this moment high. It deserves as such. Perhaps 2020 will make a turn for the better to where I am able to come together with family and friends to mark this moment. I'll look forward to it. For now my graduation weekend will consist of me doing my own mani pedi, baking a cake, and lounged in front of Netflix with some fancy face mask on while I sip from a fruity drink. It is not ideal by any means, but this is how you make due in the chaotic world dealing with a pandemic.
   For all the grads of 2020 whether it be high school, university, grad school, etc do not let the state of the world damper your moment. You made it. We made it. This is one chapter in our story. Did the chapter end how we wanted to go? No, but really good stories hardly ever go the way you want them to. One thing is for sure this will be a graduation we will never forget.

Graduates, I toast to you! 

The Ramblings Inside My Creative Mind: In Wounded Womb

        It’s been a while. I’ve been busy graduating with my creative writing degree and starting a new job. It’s been draining to say the least and it’s been overwhelming. Still all of this in the very best way possible, but still very draining. I haven’t had the energy to write, workout, update my new YouTube channel, or create. Nothing. But here I am with a topic that I need to express and there’s no other place I would other than here. 
        On a recent visit to my therapist we spoke about how things were looking up for me. I’m a college grad finally, my job situation just got 10x better, and I can finally FINALLY see a clear path up ahead on where I want to go. Then she stopped and asked me how I was coping with my miscarriage. This was the initial reason for me seeking treatment this go round. I told her that I was okay, but honestly it still sticks with me, over a year later. It’s more in the background like a low hum that I can ignore. Then there are the triggers where that low hum becomes a screeching siren. There’s the holidays where I think about how I’d be opening presents with my kid for the very first time or decking them out in their “My first ____” outfit. There’s the due date and miscarry date that is lovely placed four days after my birthday. Then there’s the baby announcements. Those are the absolute fucking worst. I truly want to hate the people posting their good news, but I can’t hate something that is a big moment for someone else and some I know the stories of their own heartbreak. I can’t hate on that other than that’s what I want.  
        I want my happy ending too and my brain cannot process why it was taken from me. So I keep going. I live with it everyday. Alone. I carry the weight of that. Alone. I have done so since day one and I will continue to. A man, no matter how in touch he is with his feelings, will never understand that kind of heartbreak, but God I wish they could. Now, I could stray from the topic at hand and scream “Men ain’t shit”, but I won’t. That’s a different topic for a different day when my heart does not ache like it does in this moment. That way I can speak truth and not hurt. Because even though it’s a popular go to saying I would like to believe that we know that statement isn’t true.
        I bring up my miscarriage because something my therapist said stuck with me. She told me that there have been studies that link the trauma that women go through after a miscarriage is similar to PTSD and I can see that. I felt that. The pain I felt when that happened somehow surpassed the grief that I had when my father passed two years prior. I was confused how I could be more devastated from losing someone I’d never met over the man who primarily raised me. There was the guilt that I had done something wrong or that something was wrong with my body. There was the feeling that maybe it was some harsh karma coming back to bite me or the fact that I’ve said, even since I was a kid, that I didn’t want kids. That one in particular has made my grief more difficult. I often ask myself “Do I have the right to grieve something that I swore I never wanted?” Either way it felt like my fault. You take that and add the fact that I find out two months later that my partner didn’t want kids it feels like getting hit with a bus. Then I realized why that weight felt heavy on my shoulders alone. 
         I think about this miscarriage today because I found out something troubling. There was something my partner did not even 6 months after this event that has crushed me. I won’t go into detail, I’m sorry. I’m so shocked and it’s a lot for me to process at the moment. With that being said, I look back on that time in my life of losing a baby, to finding that there may not be a baby with the man I was in love with, to a rift in our relationship shortly after, then us getting back good again, a surgical procedure to have my cervix shortened to prevent cervical cancer (and also would cause problems in me getting pregnant), and then all of this within 5 months and he does something to betray my trust. Something that I have still yet to hear sorry for and only excuses. It all makes me wonder what goes through a person’s mind when they hurt someone, especially after something life altering as this. I carry all of the burden of these things yet I was betrayed in a way no one deserves. My heart hurts. 
        So, in all honesty when my therapist asked “How are you handling the miscarriage?” I’m not fine. These are the little lies we tell ourselves to get by. “I’m okay”. “I’m fine.” “It’s no big deal”. It helps us not to focus on this, but at the same time it makes those feelings linger longer. So I am not fine. I am not okay. But I’ll carry this alone. Day by day. That’s all anyone can do. For now I’ll sit in this hurt. I’ll process and heal. I’ll learn from it and grow from it. I’ll build better with it. I’ll always wonder what I would’ve had, the mom I would’ve been, and the family that would’ve been created. My heart will always yearn for that. 
By: Asia Aneka Anderson, 2020 ©

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: I QUIT! I QUIT! I QUIT!

        I did it. I quit my job. That toxic part of my life is over. A new chapter is starting. 2020 is already opening doors for me and I couldn't be more thankful. I'm just so excited to be able to breathe. My job suffocated me for entirely way too long. I appreciated the opportunity, but it was just too much drama for no reason.

A Look Inside My Creative Mind: Self Care is Mandatory

I uploaded my second video to YouTube. I talk about how I've learned that self care is important and that this is something plan to make a necessity. With all the stress we deal with in our lives whether it be work, family, school, etc we all deserve a little time to ourselves without feeling guilty about putting ourselves first.