*deep breath* I’m average!

*deep breath* I’m average!

I realized that I don’t want to be unique. No, I don’t mean that I want to conform or mindlessly obey orders. But I don’t care enough to become the “best of the best” either. I think it’s clear that my generation live in a social norm where it is important to reach above and beyond for everything. We come from a time where we were told how special we were, and overall, there’s nothing wrong with embracing individuality. However, I think it gave some of us a fear. A fear to fail or a fear of not being “special enough”. If we didn’t join X amount of extracurricular, volunteer for such-and-such charity and get outstanding marks in school, well then shit what have you’ve been doing all your life? I can’t speak on behalf of everyone my age, so this is based on my life. I feel this pressure on a daily basis. It’s both an internal and external pressure. Internally, I regularly compare my life to other people’s accomplishments (i.e. social media). Externally, people are always telling me what I should be doing in order to succeed. All the time I hear how important it is to be original, innovative, and stand out. But rarely, do I ever hear people telling me to let myself be average. In fact, when I express this opinion, most people don’t agree with me. Take my parents for instance. When I tell them that I’m okay with living a simple life, they look at me in confusion. Then they just spend the next car ride giving me a million reasons why I’m going to be the next CEO. It frustrates me how misunderstood I feel. I understand that people mean well when they encourage me to be exceptional, but being exceptional isn’t what I want. I want to remember my life based on the time I’ve spent with others, and the relationships I’ve built, not the accomplishments I’ve made or the mountains I’ve moved. In short, a lot of what I really want probably won’t come from accomplishments. I’ve realized that being the best at whatever it is isn’t going to make me happy. I do always try to be my best, but I’m fine with keeping my life simple. Anyhow, I could be wrong, but the way I see it, I could use a simple life.


My thoughts on American Horror Story Season 1 (big spoilers)

My thoughts on American Horror Story Season 1 (big spoilers)

A/N: I wrote this a week ago and saved it. I’ve returned today and finished it up. So, technically I finished season 1 a week ago…I am currently on season 5. LOL!

Hey all! I’ve spent the last two days binge watching American Horror Story season 1 and wanted to write about what I think of the show. For those who haven’t seen AHS, just know you are walking into spoiler zone! There’s no particular organization, I just want to jot down what I’m thinking.

What I loved

  • Characters! Characters! Characters! It is clear the writers have an aptitude for character development. Particularly, writing layers in the character. What I mean is that everything you initially see in the characters are not a tell all. It’s even mentioned frequently by Moira (who’s often clarifying to other characters that they are “finally seeing things for what they really are”).

Let’s use (the most popular and often talked about character) Tate for an example. When we first meet him, he wears sheep skin like it’s a coat (or in his case, a cardigan).


But, really I would wear that cardigan. It looks so comfy! (I’m a cardigan hoarder)

For the most part of the season, he appears to be a (somewhat) seemingly innocent dude and plays himself off as a victimized boy next door. His overall interaction with Violet is gentle and has a romantic fixation for her. Towards the end of the season, it is clear that there is more about Tate that we really don’t know about. I’m not just talking about the murders either. It’s hard to see what part of him is a facade and what part of him is honest. He really chooses carefully what he wants the audience (not just Violet) to see. On that note, although most argue that Tate is impulsive and acts on the spot, I disagree. I think there is more about him that is methodical and that’s why I think he might be (potentially) the most evil character in the season. [I could go on about him, because lets face it. His whole story is fascinating. Maybe I’ll write a post for his character] Even characters that are more minor have so many layers. I.e. Chad, Hayden, even Nora. Some might simply write off characters like Chad, Hayden and Nora as crazy, but I can see that a lot of the choices they made have some reasoning behind what they do.

  • The clues and references often put in to the show are no coincidence either. The most obvious I can think of is Tate’s peculiar taste in music. During the school shooting scene, he is heard walking down the halls and whistling a popular tune that is heard in several Quintin Tarantino films such as “Kill Bill”.  If you do some extra research on the song, you find that it’s originally used in a late 60’s film called “Twisted Nerve”. If you skim through the movie summary, you can deduct that there is more that the writers are trying to say about Tate.
  • Nora, Chad and Hayden want Vivien’s freaky demon baby and you could simply say that they are insane people who have a twisted agenda, but if you dig in their past there is so much more that explains why they are who they are.
zachary quinto.jpeg
YAAAS!!! I will always see Spock when I look at the beloved Zachary Quinto!
  • The actors played their parts beautifully! I hated Hayden, I felt sad for Violet’s depression, rolled my eyes at Ben, and crossed between wanting to jam a knife through Tate or give him a sympathetic pat on the back (but like, from a far distance because there’s no way I could survive an interaction with someone as bent as him).
  • The show really scared the bu-jebus out of me! Something I haven’t felt since season 1 of Supernatural!

What I didn’t love

  • Hmm, not much really. The whole season was really good. There were some parts where the dialogue felt confusing and hard to keep up with. There’s also a lot of names and the characters don’t mention them often enough for me to keep up with. I would reference characters with “that guy” or “the girl who did this” often because I had no idea what their names were.
  • There were some scenes that made me feel uncomfortable to watch, but I guess that’s the point. It wouldn’t be a horror story if I felt okay with every scene I watched. So that’s not really a problem, just a thing I didn’t like.
  • At times, parts of the show could seem slow, but towards the end you get why the writers put those scenes in there.
  • The last episode ended and left me asking more questions. WHYYYYY?!?! Why do you do this to me? How could an amazing show betray me and keep me hooked at the same time?
ahs violet-Favim.com-2596823.gif
But like, me after the last episode. My heart was torn up in a million pieces.

Some additional questions

  • How do ghost rules work?
  • Is Violet a witch (just finished coven, lol)
  • Will Constance get what’s coming to her? (probably not)
  • What happened to Tate/Vivien’s monster child?
  • How did Tate make a baby?
  • Why hasn’t anyone else tried?
  • Who has Tate been talking to?
  • Why couldn’t Tate get a boner in the Halloween episode? (And why can’t I find an answer on google)
  • TATE?


(Seriously, that dude’s a work of his own he needs his very own show! “An hour with Tate”)

I’ve been laughing as I typed the last half of my review. I’m just gonna end this saying I loved it, it’s an incredible show. I would recommend this to anyone!



When life gets you down, WRITE! (Another short story)

When life gets you down, WRITE! (Another short story)

A/N: Whoa, another story? Yup, I’ve been feeling pretty down today so I wanted to write my pain away. I can’t say if this is a regular thing or not. Just that I can’t let myself feel so down all the time. Plus, I need to keep writing if I want to get any better at it. Anyhow, here’s another-but unrelated to the previous-short story. With this one, I just shot out the first sentence in my head and carried on with what to write next. I got pretty far with this one. I kinda like the idea I created too.

Some magical drabble


“It’s not uncommon to feel scared. Especially if it’s your first time.” Jordan smirks and raises her eyebrows. While offering a fake look of sympathy she pats Gabrielle on the shoulders. Gabrielle snatches her shoulder back and gives a defiant look to her elder.

“I never said I was afraid!” she scoffs. Gabrielle shakes back her blonde hair and crosses her arms. She continues, “I’m just amazed that someone like you would even consider this to be scary. Have something to hide there? I mean just because you were scared, doesn’t mean everyone else would be.” Gabrielle turns to face the rest of the coven as they snicker behind Jordan’s back. Jordan’s face falls flat when she overhears Molly whisper something to her elder. She straightens her posture, and purses her lips. Determined not to show any weakness to the rest of the group.

“I’m just trying to look out for you.” She retorts

Gabrielle resists the urge to roll her eyes, “Riiight. Just like how you left me in the mountains last week. How could you look out for me when you were all the way at the bottom of the mountain!” Jordan opens her mouth to respond when Miss Karen waves her hand at Jordan and silences her.

“Whenever you’re ready Gabrielle.” She offers a sweet and encouraging smile.

Gabrielle walks straight to the pot and grabs the knife. While muttering an incantation she firmly grips the dagger in front of her and slashes her hand while watching the blood pool around her cut and slowly trickle down into the simmering pot of potion. She peers down to watch the potion slowly transform from blue with a faint fragrance of lavender and berries to a vibrant shade of purple and a subtle hint of a metallic smell. The potion begins to radiate a soft glow; Gabrielle pulls her hand away from the pot and turns off the burner. Without any hesitation, she blows on her cut hand and watch the skin reattach. With a satisfied smile, she pours the potion into a vile to present to the coven.

She turns her attention to the coven to find everyone gaping at her. Gabrielle’s eyes widen and she frowns.

“What? Did I do it wrong?” She grips the vile closer to her chest.

Miss Karen steps forward. “No sweetheart. It wasn’t that. It’s just…” She pauses, wondering how to word it to Gabrielle.

“How’d you do that without reading the book!” Molly interrupts.

“Yeah, first years can’t complete that without even a glance at the book.” Another girl adds. Almost all at once, everyone starts muttering and throwing one question after another.

“Did she cheat?”

“No you dimwit, you can’t cheat a potion! She must be possessed.”

“I don’t hear a hum! A telepath must be telling her what to do.”

“Who would want to do that? Besides, only Jordan can do that.”

Everyone’s attention turns to Jordan who’s still trying to process what she’s seen. Miss Karen turns to Jordan and asks, “Jordan, did you help Gabrielle with the potion?” Jordan’s eyes widen and she stands defensively.

“No! Why would I want to help her?”

Molly frowns. “You did say you were looking after her.” The coven almost nods in unison.

Jordan shakes her head. “I wasn’t going to cheat for her. Maybe give her a pep talk but not tell her what to do.” She snaps. “Miss Karen, you know I wouldn’t do that. I’m a hard working student and cheating would tarnish my reputation.”

Miss Karen nods her head. “I know Jordan, I trust you.” She reassures her. Miss Karen turns to Gabrielle. “But how did you know what to do Gabrielle?”

Gabrielle’s heart races and her ears burn when she finds everyone’s attention facing her. She begins speaking so fast, she can barely think about what she’s saying. “I-it just came to me. Like I knew what I had to say. I didn’t really give it much thought. I’m sorry, I didn’t know that would be a problem.” She winces, waiting for Miss Karen to scold her or worse, send her away. Gabrielle can feel pulses of fear emitting from some of the witches. Who could possibly want a witch with such a freakish ability? She glances at the younger witches and sees them bunching up closer to one another, ready to flee if needed.

“You’re not in trouble Gabrielle and we wouldn’t expel someone with an ability like yours.” Miss Karen answers. “We teach lots of girls with different abilities, and yours is no different. It’s, unusual, but not different from what we’ve seen. I’ll have a word with the committee and see if we can modify the exam for you.” Before Gabrielle could thank her, she darts out of the tent.

The tension in the tent immediately diffuses when Illiana breaks away from the group and faces Jordan. She laughs. “Well, look who’s the elder now Jordy! It’s her first test and Gabrielle’s already surpassed you.” She sneers. “She really knocked you into your place. It’s comical when you think of it.” She turns her attention to Gabrielle and claps. “I applaud you, newbie. Really, it’s about time someone stops Jordan dead in her tracks.”

The rest of the coven explodes with noise and everyone immediately begins muttering to one another.

Gabrielle winces and fidgets nervously with her vile. She really wishes everyone would stop talking about her. She peers over to Jordan to find her clenching her teeth and scowling at her classmate Illiana.

Why can’t we get along like Molly does with her elder? She asks herself.

Immediately, Jordan shoots her gaze to Gabrielle and throws a cold stare.

You know why! She mentally hisses a fiery response to her sister.

If I could run away. (short story)

If I could run away. (short story)

A/N: I just wrote this (like five minutes ago). Usually when I have to go back to school, I panic and start feeling depressed/anxiety. Anyway, this panic attack isn’t anything new and usually I just ride it out and let it pass. Today though, I did something different. I wrote down what I was feeling and wrote a fantasy solution. Here it is. My solution! As you can see, I made up a name but I was thinking of myself while writing this piece. I don’t think this is going anywhere so I thought I would share it here and let someone else (other than me) see it. I hope you like it. I felt better after writing this. 🙂

If I could run away


Naomi doesn’t remember when she got back. It didn’t matter anyhow. Her mind was on one thing alone. Leaving. Leaving everything behind. Today she was going to do it with no fear or regret. She packs her bags with confidence and poise (if that was ever possible). She folds her t-shirts like they’re made of a powerful armor. Her pen is her sword and her books are her shields. She places them in the suitcase knowing that they will not fail her. She slips on her boots with the understanding that they will stand strong no matter what terrain she treads. Naomi walks over to her door and unhooks her jacket. She holds it in front of herself and looks at it like it is something she’s never seen before. She purses her lips and winces at it. This jacket doesn’t suit her anymore. It’s a puffy black winter jacket. It’s warm, soft but ironically impractical. It represents a life she doesn’t want to live anymore. It speaks of a life with safety and repetition.

She throws the jacket on the ground and goes downstairs to the basement. After ruffling through several piles of clothes in her storage closet, she’s found it. To most, it looks costume-y and something nobody today would dare to wear in public. At one point, Naomi felt the same way of the garment. She bought it on a whim at an art sale one day and wears it only to conventions, role-play games or costume parties. It didn’t have any meaning to her at the time. It was just a costume. Another piece of fabric to layer over and pretend to be something you don’t have the balls to truly embody. At this moment, Naomi doesn’t see it that way anymore. It’s the perfect fit. It’s a dark green cloak that reaches the middle of her calves and a sparkling emerald gem decorates the clasp of the cloak. She swings it around her shoulders and fastens the clasp. Without any hesitation, she faces the mirror and looks at herself. She holds her gaze for a while and takes in every detail of herself. She exhales in relief when she realizes she doesn’t recognize her reflection. She has worn this cloak several times and remembers how it would fit. This time, it feels somewhat different. As if she finally grew into it. Her dark hair perfectly frames the cloak and curls against the wool fabric. Her face appears softer and her frame looks almost taller. She eyes the plastic gem glittering in the reflection. She counts how many times it flashes in the mirror and can’t help but wonder if it’s trying to speak to her. She imagines it is offering words of reassurance.

Yes, this is what you are meant to be. The world you are choosing to walk in promises you will have fulfillment and a sense of purpose. I don’t have to tell you to go follow this instinct, because I know you will take it.

Naomi smiles and quietly thanks the sparkling emerald for its support. She heads up the stairs and grabs her suitcase. Everything feels perfect, just as she imagined it would happen in her head. With her head up high, she opens her front door and steps out without a pause of uncertainty. She doesn’t turn around when she closes the door. There’s nothing left to look at behind her. Naomi holds her pride, looks forward and follows the sunrise. She knows this same sunrise will lead her to the said promise of fulfillment and purpose. Naomi quickens her pace and melts in the air.

I think my dream is trying to tell me something…

I think my dream is trying to tell me something…

The other night I had a dream that (now that I think about it) may have told me more about myself than I know. The tl;dr version, I had a dream I was  a prisoner.

In my dream, I find myself wearing ordinary street clothes, I am living in a regular house, but I am aware that I am living in a prison. So I wasn’t sitting behind bars, but still a prisoner. Not just any type of prison Orange is the New Black prison. Which is weird, I haven’t watched OITNB since last summer. But I’m hiding in my van with Piper Chapman (who’s wearing the traditional jumpsuit). A group of people ahead of us just escaped and we are trying to follow their lead. Anyway, we’re trying to escape the prison (which is just my garage). We make it out and I start to panic, realizing we are fugitives I spin the car around to the nearest parking lot to abandon and start running back to the prison on foot. We pass through a weird hotel and I somehow end up back, we jump over the fence and that’s when I woke up.

I’ve never believed in dream interpreting but this one really stands out to me. I’m pretty sure the stress has been getting to me to the point my dreams are affected. As I said, I’ve never dream interpreted but let me try.

I’m a prisoner-Maybe I feel like I am a prisoner to the school I’m in. Or a prisoner in my life. (I’m leaning towards the latter) I’m stuck in this life where I need to please everyone and not fail.

The street clothes- I don’t think this really has any meaning but let me try… I identify myself as a prisoner but haven’t committed a real crime. I’m only taking the place of a prisoner. Unlike Chapman, I can leave prison whenever I want.

The Hotel- Again, its a stretch but I’m going to keep going for the fun of it. People come and go in hotels every time. For most, hotels are havens and a positive place of happiness. I pass through this happiness to head back to the place that gives me stress.

The Panic- I take a chance and drive out of the prison. I didn’t feel free though. I felt like I got pulled into a situation I didn’t want to be in. I didn’t want to be hunted down by the wardens. Even though I know the prison would give me pain, I chose to go back so I wouldn’t be a bother.

Yeah, putting this all together does look a lot like the situations I am currently going through. But I can’t say it’s given me clarity. I feel like I only interpreted something I already know about myself (more or less). Trying to keep this optimistic, perhaps it’s my brain telling me I will know soon enough what I want to do with the rest of my 20 something life.