More than anything I wonder what it would feel like to wake up a different person. Someone who’s happy, always smiling, greets strangers, and has the ability to brush off negativity without a second thought. I want to know what it feels like to be a good person. I want to be someone who has positive people gravitate towards her. I want to wake up and know what it feels like to have people root for me and willing to pick me up when I fall. I wonder what it feels like to not have people disappear when times get tough. I’d like to know what it feels like being something other than second best. What would not being ignored feel like? I want to know what unconditional love feels like and not the kind of love that feels forced. I wonder what it feels like to love myself. I want to love me at my highs and my lows. I want to wake up and feel prepared to take on life. What does it feel like to be alive? I wonder what joy really is? I want to know what it’s like not being someone’s verbal punching bag, mainly my own. I’d like to know what it feels like not to be a disappointment. What does it feel like to really be heard? I wonder what it feels like to hear someone compliment me and actually believe it. I just really want to know what it feels like to wake up and not feel like my own enemy. I don’t want to be at war with myself, but the saga continues.

People who don’t really know me or only know me through social media don’t truly understand my love for writing. Ever since I was a little girl I wrote short stories, poems, fanfics, etc. I was even that kid that loved to write essays. All throughout school I was praised by teachers for my vivid imagination and the ways I could make characters come alive. I don’t know how or when my love for something that was my life vanished. It’s like losing a limb. There’s something very numbing about it. You don’t understand how lost I truly feel. Something that would take me hours to finish suddenly takes years. I’m 31 and things I wrote when I was in my early teens seems to be executed much more elegantly. I feel as though my talent is dying and slowly moving backward in slow motion. I’ve tried to much to revive it. I start numerous blogs, I share my shitty work, I try to write down what comes to mind, I put my characters through ridiculous scenarios to see if any storyline changes motivate me, I fail at trying to journal, and nothing works. Today something stuck in my head. It will be my new mantra. Whether it will stick or not will be seen in the future, but it’s given me more hope that any other phony uplifting words like “You can do it!” has.
"You have a story that needs to be told. If you don’t tell the world your story, who will?"
That’s it. I have many stories I want to write and if I don’t get out there and tell the world about it, the remaining inkling of talent I have will be wasted. The passion isn’t what it used to be, but I can’t picture myself doing anything other than writing. That’s all there is for me. Maybe the hardship of life robbed me of the one thing that brought me happiness, but I’m certain that I can find that happy again in my work. I can’t give up now. I can’t wait until I’m on my deathbed and feel regret for the things I never said.

I feel like there’s a change coming in my love life (at least I hope). I met this guy about two months ago on a dating site and we instantly hit it off. The only downside is that we’re not in the same state. I haven’t had anyone make me this happy in a while. He sends me ‘good morning’ texts and checks up on me to see how my day is and recently he’s been telling me a lot that he wishes I could be there to cuddle with and that he thinks about me all the time. That takes me by surprise because in all the years I’ve been dating I never heard those things from boyfriends let alone someone I just met. I know it’s strictly an internet and phone thing for right now therefore I’m not going to be the type to fall for every word, but it is incredibly nice to hear all these things. I won’t know for sure, until I meet him, if everything he says is coming from his heart or just something he thinks I want to hear, but I’m hoping for the best. After all I’ve been through I deserve a good man and I’m at a point in my life where I feel I’m capable to receive and give that type of love. I wasn’t that type of person before, but I’m older and wiser now. I told him that I believe we’ll get a real chance to give this a go since he lives in a city where I was and desperately want to get back to. I lived in Chicago for over 4 years and was alone the whole time. It would be nice to move back soon and finally get to explore the city hand in hand with someone else and make a real home there. I just have to be patient and keep telling myself that if it is truly meant to be then the universe will make a way for it to be so. I’ve got my fingers crossed.

Ignore me while I still try to find my writing mojo and bore you with random journal entries from my boring life. Gotta start over from somewhere, right? Right.

Tragic Boyfriend Tales #1

Boyfriend Q was the popular guy in 7th grade. A lot of girls wanted him, myself included. His best friend was a good friend of mine and I asked him everyday if Q had said anything about me and begged him to talk to Q for me. Eventually Q gave in and he was my boyfriend. I was stoked that me, the quietest shy girl in school, got the popular guy for once. At the end of the school year our grade went on a class trip to the amusement park King’s Island. We didn’t spend too much time together. He had his friends and I had mine. Whether I spent time with him there or not I had a kick ass time with my girls. I decided that before we left I’d go to the gift shop and buy him something cute with my allowance. I gave it to him when we got on the bus and went to sit with my girlfriends. As we were riding down the highway my friends kept bugging him about why he wasn’t sitting with his girlfriend. I heard him say something like “I’ll sit with her if she barks for me.” Total “She’s All That” moment. Of course his friends laughed and mine couldn’t believe he said it. I sat there trying not to cry, but that insecure girl inside me didn’t want to lose him so under my breath I did it. I barked. At least I thought it was under my breath cause his friends laughed. Upset, I yelled at him to give me my gift back and he refused. I stayed quiet the rest of the way home praying we’d get there soon so I wouldn’t have to see him again until the next school year. As we got back to the school parking lot I ran to my car still holding back tears so my parents would ask 21 questions. I watched him through the window of our station wagon as we pulled away and I saw him give my gift to another girl. My heart broke. I read recently online that he (or at least someone with his same exact name and age) was shot 5 times outside of a club downtown. He lived and there was no major injuries. Does it make me a bad person that I laughed?

-Asia Aneka Anderson

So I made a post yesterday about starting a series of short stories about horrible relationship experiences. So today I realized it’s perfect and I thought I’d take it a step further. I’ll write about horrible experiences with past boyfriends, friends, family, potential mates, etc. and call it “Tragic ____ Tales”. Each story will have one incident instead of just going through every fuck up the person has done in one story. Hopefully this will motivaete me to write more.

I need something to get my writing mojo back. Make like some wacky journal like series. I thought about making a “Tragic Boyfriend Tales”, but seeing as I haven’t had many relationships it would be short lived. Still might be worth it. I’ll think about it. I’ve dated some weirdos.