3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

So I’m going to write everything until something makes sense. I read this tweet from someone that said something along the lines of “Pay attention to who comes to get you when you retreat inside of yourself.” There’s no one here.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

Self conscious and self aware are not the same and I happened to become both at once. I recognized that I needed to work on myself to find inner peace. I’d spent the first five years of motherhood learning that despite knowing who you are as a woman, your identity changes when you become a mother. It’s now year six and I still don’t know who “she” is.

I am a woman first because being a woman allows me to feel human. The woman I imagine myself to be knows how to cope with the white noise. As a mom, I feel overwhelmed, lonely, neurotic. As a mom, I should have all the cures and answers my children ask of me but I feel as though I’m coming up short; with empty hands.

My old friend battles anxiety and depression. I was her crutch. Imagine using a broken crutch. When I saw that I needed to pull away to be repaired, I tried but was discarded in the process so fuck her.

I have a friend who is negative. The world is negative. Imagine listening to a broken record. Even a broken clock is right twice a day so I keep her bc she keeps me.

I had a friend who lived in an old shoe. It turns out, we weren’t friends at all. I was her cobbler. Imagine being drained of healing properties you didn’t know you had.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Dreams

You owe yourself your mental health. I can’t help you if I don’t help myself. No longer unable to identify those that drained my mental health, I’m ready to dig into my deeper subconscious.

Night time, maybe even dusk. Think state fair in Central Park. Able to order plates from amazon. Ordered pizza bbq chicken and other random fare. Conspiracy theorist meeting nearby. People go up a tower and don’t come down. I went up the tower before my food arrived and returned without remembering the trip. My food was covered but the random ppl that ordered with me were gone. Saw a homeless guy run further into the park. I gave chase then woke up.

I am growing. I think.

I see him everywhere in everything. I wish I was referring to my higher power but I’m referring to my lost and late love. I wonder if this will ever get any easier.

My chest hurts. I wanna cry but the strength and stubbornness in my melanin will not permit me to do so.

I need you because I trust you even though it doesn’t seem like it. Again, blame the stubbornness in my melanin.

A woman who cried often taught me that the only real emotion or relevant emotion was her anger. I don’t know how to fix it. I heard this is called Black Trauma.

I don’t want to kill myself. I have so many stories to tell and trips to take. I just want to feel better. When I breathe, I don’t want the crack in my heart to feel like it’s bleeding. I don’t want it to feel like the bricks I laid around my emotions are eroding, taking my ability to love and be empathetic away in the winds if experience.

3 AM RAMBLINGS & Indistinct Agony

I’m tired but can’t sleep. My eyes are burning but they won’t close. My brain hurts but it won’t rest. I’m trapped in a continuous REM state and the entire show is a nightmare.

January 2020, my first property will be a building. This building will be transformed into a privately funded transitional shelter for single individuals and families. At least 10 apartments to begin. Hebrews 11:1

I’m tired. I forget to pray for inner peace and when I remember, the stubbornness of a born sinner won’t allow me to follow Psalms but I think it was people like me that Jesus died for. I’m hoping this is sufficient.

I’m so tired.

I am tired.

I miss him so much. I don’t think any of my friends understand why. He loved me through the mental break downs before we understood my affliction to be a mental illness. He loved me anyway. His family loved me anyway. They even liked me despite the burden my 14 year old broken spirit arrived with.

You are among my dearest memories. When my mother was thought to be hours from death, it was you, the person I knew least who comforted me the most. It was you who kept me occupied. It was you who visited my mother when I could not. It was you who watched me cry without judgement. Thank you.

I want an ofrenda. My father had one but it wasn’t called an ofrenda. It was simply the ancestors’ room.

I’m tired.

My phone is dying.

I can’t sleep.

But I must sleep.

Still nothing makes sense but I must sleep.

Master’s Masterpiece

He said he’d buy me a collar then we’d do erotic things.

I wonder what those things include.

Would he instruct me to gracefully kneel and lift my hair?

As he fixes the collar to my neck, would his rough finger tips graze the tiny goosebumps on my nape?

Before he walks around to stand in front of me, lifting my chin so he can see me

Staring into my eyes so he can see us


Because I am now his submissive.

A reflection of his dominance,

A result of his care,

His masterpiece.

:Random 40:

Subject yourself to being subjective.
say, “I feel like,” or rather,
“I believe that if you place your thumb firmly on my clitoris, I will climax on your index and middle fingers.”

Night Terrors


All of Monday I had the strangest feeling. I felt unsettled and uncomfortable. I assumed this feeling was due to the stress I have been experiencing with my finances as well as the apartment building I live in, my work life, and my love life. I haven’t been able to focus on my story telling or anything that I typically do to keep my creative mind active. I stayed up until around ten last night fiddling around with ideas of what I could do while my children are away for the week. I couldn’t settle my mind on anything so I turned everything off and went to sleep on my sofa. I woke up around two in the morning. From there I still did nothing. I surfed the net for two hours; scrolling various threads on Facebook. My brain was still clouded so I called my children’s father.

We talked for about thirty minutes until I decided at 4:13 AM that I should probably lay down. I wake up at five AM everyday to get ready for work so trying to take a nap after a fairly sleepless night was a bad idea but I did it anyway. My alarm went off at five and I, of course, hit the snooze button. Then I heard shuffling across my floor. That’s not very unusual, I’ve been hearing just about every morning since I was a kid. My mom’s slippers have always been too wide so they slide across the floor when she walks.

I continued to lay on my stomach but cracked my eyes. A wave of panic rinsed over me because I was supposed to be at home alone. My mind raced through possibilities of who could be in my house as the shuffling sound grew closer and I heard my mother say, Jay, it’s five AM honey, it’s time to get up.

All at once I could feel my body getting heavier and I couldn’t breathe. My face felt as though it was being squeezed and my mouth was sealed shut and my chest, arms, and legs were pressed firmly against my couch; I could feel the imprints of hands holding me down. The entire time it was as if someone was standing over me watching other people hold me still.

My phone’s alarmed sounded again and my eyes searched for it wildly. It was there above my head. I could see it lighting up. I could see the red and orange images prancing across the screen but I could not move. The presence standing over me remained as did the hands holding me down. I began fighting against my immobility. I tried to rock my shoulders but did not move. I tried to reach for my phone but was unable to do that either. There was whimpering in the distance, whimpering I could only assume was my own.

I felt like my body gave up and my breathing had grew to be more labored and then it stopped. I was able to roll to my side and sit up but I felt the presence sit next to me. The hands that held me forcefully to my couch felt as though they were still hanging on to me. My chest hurt and I was dizzy. The presence that moved to my side was fading away. I closed my eyes to get my bearings but I dared not to fall back asleep. Each time my eyes closed, I could hear a clanging sound. Coming from the darkness in my eyelids there was an ice blue mask with cracked lips surfacing through a pool of black.

The mask had no expression and there were no eyes; only a face that appeared to have weathered a violent tempest. Sleep was over coming me again but I would not allow my body to succumb to its grasp. I opened my eyes wide and slid off of my couch. I could not let this happen for a second time.

My chest has felt heavy most of the day and I haven’t been able to catch my breath. Sleep paralysis is the mystery that entered my home early this morning without provocation. Sleep paralysis which is noted to have no cause in particular yet plagues millions of people. What do the people likely have in common? Weary hearts, heavy minds, and likely low energy levels. I don’t believe this is simply a random affliction that can happen to anyone.

Has this happened to you?