Thank you, Dr. Maya Angelou

Dr. Maya Angelou’s death was meant for me.

For the first time in months, I was so heavy with sadness that I ached. I felt all my life consisted of were failed attempts at happiness. That all the paths I’ve tried to build led nowhere, and I had nothing I could even think of growing into something great. I was stagnant. It was hitting me, and it hurt.

I was told I was talented in art, writing, and cooking… But I was realizing yesterday that it wasn’t going anywhere. It never seemed to be going anywhere, and it frustrated me. After feeling worthless all day yesterday and wondering why God made me to exist in vain, I got a sharp slap this morning.

Maya Angelou is no longer with us. 

And even though I would research her and think about her occasionally, she has shoved her presence into my life at the most needed time.

She died the day after my darkest fall in months.

She did so to tell me to “Wake up, Phenomenal Woman! You live in your truth, and you know it is one that belongs to a Queen such as yourself.”

If I want to speak a second language, I’ve got to study harder. If I want to do something with my writing, then I must write everyday with purpose.

Maya Angelou has spoken to me in an even quieter way than pen flowing over paper— but just as powerful, mind you: she spoke to me in spirit.

Protect Your Heart with Love

Source: Tumblr

Sure, I love. But I never get my hopes up for love to go right for me, and that saves me TONS of heartache. You can love without being IN love.

Don't block a blessed thing by assuming the worst. But if you haven't developed a concrete mutuality for each other, protect your heart. Don't jump into a body of water without getting a feel for how deep it is first.

Wouldn't want to drown, would you? I'd assume you wouldn't want to become bitter and spiteful when the beginning of interest in someone never ever seems goes right, either.

Try to let your head lead your heart until there is a reason to let your vulnerability fall into place.

Love-- always keep your heart open and giving. But be smart about who you hand it to and how soon.

Home is an Emotion

I use the word “home” delicately.

I’ve compared enough to know that a home isn’t just where your clothes and food are stored. It’s where your heart smiles the most. So much so that it escapes the lips, forming an infectious smile there as well.

People don’t smile in prisons.

And although I am grateful for having a struggled space that consists of a roof over my head, I am not happy.

Being crowded, hearing repetitious complaints, coughs, and sniffles from sunken souls.

So contagious that I can feel every ounce of passion for anything leave me. I no longer take care of myself because my space and energy tell me “what’s the point?”

I can feel heavy sadness press into my chest each day until my whole body aches. Until I’m reduced to tears, because emptying the negative weight from my spirit is the only thing I feel I have control over anymore.

A place where I’m more and more tempted to leave my first hole in the wall, and am consistently fuming when I’m not alone is not a home.

This is not a home.

It’s a shelter I’m grateful for, but a shelter with bad energy is rejected with every fiber of my being. It is not placed as a home in my heart.

New Fieldroast Apple Maple Breakfast Sausages

One of my rare trips to Whole Foods led me to these gems, and I've been munching on them ever since!

The name Field Roast already is credibility enough, but tasting these gave them a huge boost in my trust department. To me they have a eerily similar texture to actual sausage, and what I love most about searing these in a pan with a little olive oil is how all those seasonings (especially the sweetness of the maple syrup) work together to create an enjoyable, vegan experience.

It really doesn't have that "artificial meat" taste, of course a plus.

My two favorite ways to enjoy them are with a seasoned, fried egg or next to a pile of sautéed rainbow swiss chard. Swiss chard reminds me of a better-tasting spinach, though my mom says they're a bit bitter (I wouldn't say kale-bitter, but I dunno... It's an appetizing bitter, then). The recipe for how I prepare rainbow swiss chard can be found here.

Just note:

• Wash the swiss chard THOROUGHLY! Don't want to be bitting down on bugs, sand, and grit.
• I didn't personally use the pepper flakes.
• When cooking the stems, throw them in as soon as the garlic is ready and fragrant. Let them have time to soften because they do take longer to cook than the leaves.

I've been eating them in pairs for quite some time and I still have a few left. Around $4 for a pack of twelve, extremely tasty, meat-free sausages that are packed with protein, vitamins and minerals is A-OK in my book.

My Dating Habits Are Unapologetic

I'm not going to say "all guys suck and all the good ones are nonexistent!" Because that's a lie. There are good guys-- I've seen them. The good ones that have been brave enough to approach me just have never been ones I've LIKED liked (and I'm very, very sorry to my friends because I love you guys, just not in that way. Thank you for being respectful). And no matter how much you twist someone's arm, you can't make someone fall for a person. 

It may be frustrating for you guys out there, it may be irritating to some girls who believe I had choices at least-- and gentlemen at that! But believe be when I say it feeds my self-loathing when I find someone great but simply CANNOT see them as more than a friend. That if their hand cupped mine, or they leaned against me lovingly I'd get frigid, because I JUST DON'T FEEL THE SAME WAY.

I refuse to have the label "bitch" attached to my name though, just because I HONESTLY CAN'T fall for ALL the nice guys.

I only fall for the ones who don't notice me, or like me like I like them... Of course.

You know, this maddening cycle of dating (or lack thereof) continues no matter what type of single girl you are.