And I wonder as I lay here, in this sleepless field of dreams..


Somehow you've stumbled upon my blog, scraping the ends of the internet for something interesting.

Instead you found this.
I hope I don't put you to sleep.

I've been a fair-weather blogger lately. I certainly used to update this regularly, but those days are long gone. If you click the text in quotes above, you'll be able to find my archive. Posts labelled with "fiction junction" are just that. Fiction. I hope you enjoy.

do you think of me when I think of you

» Rachel Waa.
» xkcd.
» questionable content.
» the awesomer.
» not always right.
» stumble upon.

as the nighttime slowly sings...?

» chih.
» kaylyn.
» kitty.

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“oh please don't close the door my dreams are behind that”
February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 June 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009 March 2009 April 2009 May 2009 June 2009 August 2009 September 2009 October 2009 November 2009 December 2009 January 2010 May 2010 June 2010 September 2010 October 2010 January 2011 March 2011 April 2011 May 2011 August 2011 August 2012 September 2012 October 2012 November 2012 August 2013 November 2013 December 2013 January 2014 June 2014 July 2014 August 2014 May 2015 May 2016 June 2016 July 2016 December 2016 June 2017

Open letter to the friend I didn't quite make
Jun 19, 2017 || 10:21 PM || comment?

I've been having these thoughts weigh on my mind and I wasn't too certain how I should get them out... Everytime I dwell on them, I feel an emptiness, one unlike any I've experienced.

Pardon me while I speak a little overdramatically, but it feels like something akin to someone dying. Slowly fading out of existence, never hearing their voice or seeing them again. You could talk to them but there's no response. And without saying goodbye, there's this thin layer of dirt covering a deep wound left in the ground.

A void, if you will.

Without this closure I'm starting to doubt the validity of the experience. I can't say all of this because I hardly knew you. So let me indulge myself as I write these words.

It's my secret pity party, because let's be real: no one's reading this, except for maybe one person.


In less than two months one of my best friends will be moving a few states over. I'm fairly terrified because she's one of the first new friends I made whenever I moved out here. It only took three years. And she's been such an integral part of my life for the last six years. I'm so incredibly happy for her, she discounts herself all the time, so sometimes I wish she'd look in the mirror and recognize that everything she has accomplished is so amazing and wonderful and 100% her own doing. Without her, my life seriously be entirely different right now. I wouldn't have an associate's degree, I wouldn't be working on my Bachelor's degree, I simply would not be the person I am today had she not become a part of my life. I'm going to cry when she leaves. I know this goodbye will not be forever--- our friendship is such an incredibly strong bond.

Sorry for rambling so much.

I've been working on some new material for some old material. I can't get Viktor's Girls out of my head, so I've been working on some artwork in order to spark some new life into the project and I intend on writing more for it. Their stories are not finished-- and I'm looking forward to the journey they take me on (and yes, I'm speaking as if the girls are real)!

I'm so...
Jun 11, 2017 || 10:24 PM || comment?

Writing this is a little bit harder than usually because some of the fingers on my right hand are bruised, my index, middle, and ring. And also the tips are cold to the touch, I am wearing a long sleeved shirt. And in the cold of the room, the night wrapped around us, the ceiling fan humming, and no blankets to keep us warm, except for your hand. Through a strained voice I told you...all the things I kept locked away, except for when I sifted through them, finding happier times, but now they are all laced with the bad thoughts from the now. And then you shared with me. Our stories were...almost the same. I think that's what made you sad and happy the most, because you found that you were not alone after all.

[Welcome to The Vault. I'll occasionally tag posts with this label to denote drafts that were originally written some time ago but never published. I won't be editing these posts beyond minor proofreading because I'd like to maintain the integrity of the original content. It's likely I won't recall exactly why I wrote something. I know of the date however I can't simply push forward the post from draft to published because it will place it at the date it was originally written, and no one would know I've published "new" content. I hope you enjoy.]


English assignment
Dec 8, 2016 || 3:00 PM || comment?

Hello all!

Please pay no mind to this post, it's for an English assignment!

Thanks and have a great day!

Relics from the past
Jul 1, 2016 || 11:20 PM || comment?

Somehow these managed to go unposted....

...and by somehow, I mean I never finished them (big surprise). I wish I could find the source material.

Forever lost in the depths of etsy.

Well if it was you that made my body, you probably shouldn't have made me an atheist.
Jun 17, 2016 || 12:17 PM || comment?

[There is more. I just haven't finished typing it up yet. It's also very likely I'm going to rewrite portions of this. I've also contemplated rearranging the order of what I've written so far. Enjoy.]

It was a warm morning. Aleksandra felt conflicted about whether or not she should prop the shop door open as she watched people constantly pass by through the front window. With elbows propped up on the counter, she imagined stories for each person passing by. How she longed to be outside. The bell attached to the door frame jingled, starting Aleks out of her day dream. She straightened herself and brushed nothing off the apron she was wearing.

"Day dreaming again?" a man asked.

Aleksandra smiled.

"Only because it looks so wonderful out there..." she spoke, letting the last word trail off.

"I thought you enjoyed working with me in the shop?" the man asked with a grin. Aleksandra's father, Ruslan, maintained a flower shop as the family's main source of income. His upbringing was an extremely modest one, and quick to teach his daughter the same principles, as soon as Aleksandra had finished with her schooling, he insisted she work in the shop with him.

"I remember as a young girl, you used to go around with the watering can, feeding the plants. When it was full, you had to use both hands to carry it. And that's if you managed to keep all the water from splashing out!" he reminisced.

"Dad..." Aleksandra started.

"Oh I know... look at you now. You've grown into a beautiful woman. I guess it doesn't do you any good keeping you inside on a day like this..."

"Really?!" And before her father could speak another word, she ripped off her apron, making her way out the door. But not before pecking her father on the cheek.

"Love you!" She exclaimed, and the bell jingled her departure.

Aleksandra immediately squinted as the bright sun glared in her eyes. She placed her hand against her forehead, and took a good look around.

"Where should I go first?" she thought.

She walked around aimlessly for a bit, then decided to visit the open air market. She always enjoyed browsing the myriad of trinkets and foods to be found there. Fresh fruits and vegetables. Fish heads staring up with their dull eyes. Meats hanging from hooks and baked breads scented the air. Matryoshka dolls and lacquer boxes, painted with familiar scenes from childhood fairy tales. The market was packed. Summer time meant lots of visitors from all over the world. Aleksandra did her best to keep to herself as the hawk like merchants and shopkeepers targeted the foreigners, charging easily double or triple their usual rates. Aleks shook her head at this. She knew her father would disapprove. He was an honest man, through and through.

«Excuse me! What is this? Can you tell me how much it is?»

An older gentleman interrupted Aleksandra's thoughts, pressing a toy in her face and shooting off questions in rapid succession.

«Are you paying attention?! I asked you, how much is this?!»

Aleksandra stared at the man, attempting to the understand the words that escaped his mouth. She vaguely recognized some of the words as English, but what little she learned in school was long forgotten. The man stared expectantly at her. She felt herself getting flush with embarrassment, and looked around. No one responsible for the goods was nearby.

«не говорю по -английски» she blurted out, then pushed past the man before he could say anything else.

She suddenly realized just how crowded the market was. People pushing past one another. Merchant owners shouting out. Children running around. Aleks felt the world spinning around her. She kept running through the crowd, trying to find a way out. She could see a small gap in the crowd, a beam of sunlight illuminating her exit. Just as she was about to make her way out, a couple suddenly stepped in her path, and she ran straight into them.

"Oof!" She exclaimed, as she stumbled backwards.

"Watch where you're going!" The woman exclaimed. She stared at Aleksandra incredulously. As Aleks tried to regain her bearings, she took a good look at the woman. She was tall. Possibly the most beautiful woman she'd ever seen, despite the look of annoyance mixed with disgust in her face. Aleksandra felt her ears burning.

"Now now..." the man started. The bass of his voice was calming. It was then she took a look at the man she ran into. He, too, was incredibly handsome. Blue eyes that pierced like crystal daggers.

"I'm sorry..." Aleksandra mumbled, now finding herself unable to face the man.

"No. Excuse us," the man replied. He stepped aside, pulling the surly woman with him, and with a grand gesture of his free hand, motioned for Aleks to moved past them. Aleksandra nodded her understanding, and hurried along. She refrained from looking back at the couple, as she made her way towards a cafe where she could retreat from the crowd. She ordered two drinks- one for herself, as well as tea for her father.

Too much excitement, she though, as she made her way back to the shop. As if in response, an ambulance rushed by on the street. Aleksandra sipped from her cup, the hot coffee seemingly melting away all her worries. Her father never drank coffee, but it didn't stop him from keeping a pot from brewing at the shop. The regulars appreciated the small gesture, taking a cup as they admired the colorful vegetation.

Aleksandra hardly noticed the sound of the siren growing louder as she neared the shop.

She turned the street corner, and the flashing lights danced off the walls of the shop. The familiar bell on the door jingled incessantly as emergency responders rushed in the shop, and escorted out any customers.

Aleksandra felt the world spinning once again. She stood transfixed as she watched the medics bring in an empty stretcher, and then exit with a man fastened in. She moved forward as the reality of the situation dawned on her. Dad..?

A batty woman stood nearby, watching the scene unfold. Aleks recognized her, coming in nearly every week with the same order.

"Oh Aleksandra!" the woman exclaimed. "Where were you? I was just stopping by to..." The woman's words fell deaf on her ears. She felt the blood pumping in her ears, drowning out the world.

"What happened to father?" She asked bluntly.

"Oh, my dear. One moment I'm debating on which color would best accent my kitchen, and before I know it, your father collapsed on the ground! I used the shop's phone to ring an ambulance."

Collapsed? Why?

For as long as she could remember, her father was as healthy as could be. The slam of the ambulance door startled Aleksandra. She dismissed herself of the old woman and approached one of the medics.

"What happened?"

"We're not quite sure yet, but we don't have much time. Who are you?" The young medic asked.

"I'm his daughter!" she could barely keep herself from screaming.

"You better come with us. He's unconscious, and barely breathing."

Jun 2, 2016 || 1:03 PM || comment?

No regular post today, I spent my lunch typing up part eleven to my story!

Sorry 'bout it!

summer days.
Jun 1, 2016 || 1:03 PM || comment?


My last day of working here will be July 31st.

I'll be sad to go but I'll be so happy to be back in Lafayette!

I've been offered summer work here, so I know that I am welcome back, and that's great news. <3 p="">