Hellllloooooo People! Holy heckles in a handbasket has things been nuts around here recently. It seems there's something going on every night.
Bingo for Books - great event our Title 1 program hosts for all kids K-8. Lots of books and everyone wins! That was one night.
Basketball Awards! - my wonderful Alex (who just turned 17 today!) got a few awards cuz "Mitts" is such an AWESOME bball player.
Work! - I LOVE my job. and this week wasn't too bad, but in the past few weeks, there have been those days/weeks when I think I should have called in dead. BUT! I get to see my bosses in a couple weeks!!!! I'm excited.
Archery Tournament - holy heckles can my kids shoot! This frightens me a bit :)
The list goes on... between sports and work and school events, things have been nuts. Ohh but I'm not done...
There is also church... in particular, the Sunrise Service coming up at too-bloody-early-a.m. Sunday morning. I've been helping get the music prepared, and the bulletin, and been at the meetings with the youth group leader and the pastor. And, I've been loving it.
Unfortunately, the husband isn't too happy with my intense busyness, and my intense focus on the church. Apparently he actually WANTS to spend some time with me. Imagine that.
Anyway, back to work on the 50 projects I currently have started. Love to all!
Friday, March 29, 2013
Wednesday, March 20, 2013
It Wants Out
I can feel It... pacing, angry. It doesn't shout. It has no need to. It's presence is obvious. It wants out - out of my head, out of my body. Or perhaps It wants my body - It wants to remove everything else. I'm not sure. All I know is I can feel It, and it hurts. I lack control of every part of me - instead, It is in control.
It has me clawing at my own flesh in desperation - but is this desperation me trying to get rid of It, or It trying to escape? I can't tell. I don't know. I am so out of control, no matter for what purpose I claw. No matter for what purpose my fingernails scratch down my arms, at my chest, my neck - I know nothing other than that I am not controlling my trembling fingers.
I am not controlling anything. Not the voices hiding in the shadows. Not It. Not my hands. Not my heart.
Oh but how my heart cries out - or, my heart had cried out. Until It took over. I screamed for you. I begged you to rid me of this evil inside me. And yet it still resides and has grown. It has forced all that is good to cower in the recesses of my mind. It has forced my soul to grow dark, shutting out all light - all which is good within there will soon die of starvation.
But you, like those before you, chose to ignore the desperate crazy cries of the psychotic. Just faking, perhaps. Being silly. Hiding. Quite amazing, I must say, that the only way I can truly hide from people is to be myself. And yet, I'm not myself. Not any longer. It is me now. I lay bleeding, It still trapped within me, still angry. It has started to claw at me from the inside - evil talons slicing at my heart, my muscles, my ribs. Bright red patterns form upon my chest and arms and the drops of blood flow over me.
Still no release. No quiet. The other voices are still hushed, but speaking. Whispers. So many whispers, so many fearful faint cries. Be silent! Or be loud! Just please - too many voices, too many words, too incoherent.
It has taken over my sight now. Everything seen is tarnished, auras are mutating. Everything lovely is camouflaged, or perhaps no longer exists. It has changed it all. Why didn't you help me? What makes you think you are so much worthy than me? No! No, no no! These eyes, this soul. It has taken over. I am quickly becoming nothing - nothing but It.
And It wants out.
It has me clawing at my own flesh in desperation - but is this desperation me trying to get rid of It, or It trying to escape? I can't tell. I don't know. I am so out of control, no matter for what purpose I claw. No matter for what purpose my fingernails scratch down my arms, at my chest, my neck - I know nothing other than that I am not controlling my trembling fingers.
I am not controlling anything. Not the voices hiding in the shadows. Not It. Not my hands. Not my heart.
Oh but how my heart cries out - or, my heart had cried out. Until It took over. I screamed for you. I begged you to rid me of this evil inside me. And yet it still resides and has grown. It has forced all that is good to cower in the recesses of my mind. It has forced my soul to grow dark, shutting out all light - all which is good within there will soon die of starvation.
But you, like those before you, chose to ignore the desperate crazy cries of the psychotic. Just faking, perhaps. Being silly. Hiding. Quite amazing, I must say, that the only way I can truly hide from people is to be myself. And yet, I'm not myself. Not any longer. It is me now. I lay bleeding, It still trapped within me, still angry. It has started to claw at me from the inside - evil talons slicing at my heart, my muscles, my ribs. Bright red patterns form upon my chest and arms and the drops of blood flow over me.
Still no release. No quiet. The other voices are still hushed, but speaking. Whispers. So many whispers, so many fearful faint cries. Be silent! Or be loud! Just please - too many voices, too many words, too incoherent.
It has taken over my sight now. Everything seen is tarnished, auras are mutating. Everything lovely is camouflaged, or perhaps no longer exists. It has changed it all. Why didn't you help me? What makes you think you are so much worthy than me? No! No, no no! These eyes, this soul. It has taken over. I am quickly becoming nothing - nothing but It.
And It wants out.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
Traditions
Tonight as I was making some sausage/egg/cheese muffins for the kids for dinner, I was suddenly hit with a touch of nostalgia. Many know that growing up wasn't always that pleasant for me or my siblings. But, we did have a few traditions which still make me smile.
Every Sunday noon'ish, generally after returning home from church, we'd make some form of breakfast for lunch. This would be either pancakes, waffles, french toast, and/or toast; eggs; bacon and/or sausage links or sausage patties; and orange juice. My dad and all of us kids would gather in the kitchen, everyone with a responsibility, as we whipped up this yummy meal. I loved this.
Our other tradition was Friday night family night - dancing or games until Dr. Who came on. This was a wonderful time too usually.
Traditions are important. For my family - friday night is pizza night. On some occasions, we make homemade pizzas - a thoroughly enjoyable time as we make sure we have pepperoni, sausage, canadian bacon, hamburger, mushrooms, onions, peppers, a couple different cheeses, jalapenos, and an assortment of other toppings available. But, no matter if its a cheap frozen pizza, or a homemade pizza, Friday night is the time for our family to get together and enjoy at least a little time with each other.
When the weather is decent - Saturday afternoon is Now & Then time for my daughters and I. Now & Then is the local thrift store.. and we love going there, usually to purchase a few romance novels. Sunday morning used to be my coffee hour with one of my daughters. We do still usually have this time - but where it used to be at the cafe, it is now at the church. And in the summer/fall - evening walks is quite commonplace for us. Oh, and of course walks in the middle of blizzards - this is a must!
And one tradition we started just a few years ago - New Year's Eve... the kids and I go outside right after midnight to laugh and play and make snow angels.
Yes, I do love the traditions I had growing up, and those I've started with my own family.
Every Sunday noon'ish, generally after returning home from church, we'd make some form of breakfast for lunch. This would be either pancakes, waffles, french toast, and/or toast; eggs; bacon and/or sausage links or sausage patties; and orange juice. My dad and all of us kids would gather in the kitchen, everyone with a responsibility, as we whipped up this yummy meal. I loved this.
Our other tradition was Friday night family night - dancing or games until Dr. Who came on. This was a wonderful time too usually.
Traditions are important. For my family - friday night is pizza night. On some occasions, we make homemade pizzas - a thoroughly enjoyable time as we make sure we have pepperoni, sausage, canadian bacon, hamburger, mushrooms, onions, peppers, a couple different cheeses, jalapenos, and an assortment of other toppings available. But, no matter if its a cheap frozen pizza, or a homemade pizza, Friday night is the time for our family to get together and enjoy at least a little time with each other.
When the weather is decent - Saturday afternoon is Now & Then time for my daughters and I. Now & Then is the local thrift store.. and we love going there, usually to purchase a few romance novels. Sunday morning used to be my coffee hour with one of my daughters. We do still usually have this time - but where it used to be at the cafe, it is now at the church. And in the summer/fall - evening walks is quite commonplace for us. Oh, and of course walks in the middle of blizzards - this is a must!
And one tradition we started just a few years ago - New Year's Eve... the kids and I go outside right after midnight to laugh and play and make snow angels.
Yes, I do love the traditions I had growing up, and those I've started with my own family.
Saturday, March 9, 2013
Where Did You Go?
Took a walk again tonight
Past your old house
Past our old hang-outs
Past all the old memories
Took a drive against tonight
Down that same old road
We drove down before
Down all the old memories
Where did you go?
Where are all the smiles we used to share
Where did you go?
Those intensely deep eyes are no longer there
Where did you go?
What did I do to make you not care
Where did you go?
Where did you go?
-------------------------
And, that's as far as I could get with writing that one. Maybe I'll go back to it some day and finish it. Or, most likely, I won't. I have so many unfinished lyrics and poems and stories and whatnot. And, once I lose my focus on them, I can't go back. And lately, this loss of focus has been happening quite often. It never fails - I sit down to write, inspiration having hit, and someone comes in and interrupts me. And it's really starting to get annoying. If I can't get the words out how I want them to get out, I'm going to lose it. My sanity is already starting to slip away. My patience is already gone.
I never did submit that short story to the contest. I finished writing it - but not editing it. And I really hated the ending I gave it. It desperately needs work before I show it to anyone, much less before I submit it to a contest. But, I was rather proud of myself for even writing it - a short story with no sex it in? I was very proud of myself. Although, I do have to admit, as I was writing it, I was thinking of where I could put a good sex scene. Ah well. Old habits die hard.
Went to Now & Then today - a 2nd hand store. My girls and I used to go every Saturday, until the weather turned really cold. Today was the first day in a couple months that I've gone. Bought a couple smut books. Came home, took a nap, then read one of those smut books. There's one problem with reading those though - every time I finish one, I think "I could write better than this...." And yes, that came to mind again today. I'm a sad, sad, creature.
But anyway, as I still have a sermon to write today (I haven't been doing very well at writing one every night during Lent), and I seem to have lost my concentration on my poetry/lyrics, and I'm sure no one wants to hear me ramble any longer, I must depart...
-----------------
Tonight's Playlist:
Owl City - When Can I See You Again
3 Doors - Here Without You
Lawson - Still Hurts
Westlife - Hard to Say I'm Sorry (crappy remake of Chicago song)
Savage Garden - Two beds and a coffee machine
Past your old house
Past our old hang-outs
Past all the old memories
Took a drive against tonight
Down that same old road
We drove down before
Down all the old memories
Where did you go?
Where are all the smiles we used to share
Where did you go?
Those intensely deep eyes are no longer there
Where did you go?
What did I do to make you not care
Where did you go?
Where did you go?
-------------------------
And, that's as far as I could get with writing that one. Maybe I'll go back to it some day and finish it. Or, most likely, I won't. I have so many unfinished lyrics and poems and stories and whatnot. And, once I lose my focus on them, I can't go back. And lately, this loss of focus has been happening quite often. It never fails - I sit down to write, inspiration having hit, and someone comes in and interrupts me. And it's really starting to get annoying. If I can't get the words out how I want them to get out, I'm going to lose it. My sanity is already starting to slip away. My patience is already gone.
I never did submit that short story to the contest. I finished writing it - but not editing it. And I really hated the ending I gave it. It desperately needs work before I show it to anyone, much less before I submit it to a contest. But, I was rather proud of myself for even writing it - a short story with no sex it in? I was very proud of myself. Although, I do have to admit, as I was writing it, I was thinking of where I could put a good sex scene. Ah well. Old habits die hard.
Went to Now & Then today - a 2nd hand store. My girls and I used to go every Saturday, until the weather turned really cold. Today was the first day in a couple months that I've gone. Bought a couple smut books. Came home, took a nap, then read one of those smut books. There's one problem with reading those though - every time I finish one, I think "I could write better than this...." And yes, that came to mind again today. I'm a sad, sad, creature.
But anyway, as I still have a sermon to write today (I haven't been doing very well at writing one every night during Lent), and I seem to have lost my concentration on my poetry/lyrics, and I'm sure no one wants to hear me ramble any longer, I must depart...
-----------------
Tonight's Playlist:
Owl City - When Can I See You Again
3 Doors - Here Without You
Lawson - Still Hurts
Westlife - Hard to Say I'm Sorry (crappy remake of Chicago song)
Savage Garden - Two beds and a coffee machine
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Random Thoughts of the Evening
So many thoughts are boiling over in my head tonight... and not one of them related to the next. All the voices have their own mindset. It's like sitting in a crowded bar and hearing 20 different conversations going on around you, all about different subjects.
I really shouldn't watch Law & Order: SVU. It's a great television show - must be considering how many seasons it has lasted. But the subject matter is sometimes difficult to get through. Tonight's new episode was particularly hard. Usually they don't show the crimes as they happen - just hint at what's about to happen, and then you see the body, or the person lying in a hospital. Tonight's was a rape, a visual one, a disturbing one. One that would probably give nightmares to anyone who's ever experienced something which was almost the exact duplicate of such an atrocity.
Oh how desperately I dislike fish. Every night come interruptions - always when I am writing, or watching television, or just trying to relax. And always regarding the fish. And always in frustration. As if I am the fish encyclopedia and am intentionally withholding information on how to care for these slimy little creatures. We lost another one of the little things tonight. Lucky me got to flush him down the toilet.
Multiple personalities - I have been thinking a lot on this topic tonight. Have you ever considered that maybe some of us truly do have multiple personalities? Except, generally, when someone is thought to have these, they don't realize it. They don't know they are multiple people, and have no recollection of what the other people do. But maybe for some of us it's a little different. It's like... you're in a room, you can see into the next room but the person in there can't see you. You can hear the person in the other room, but that person can't hear anything you say. You have no control over this other person, but are perfectly aware of every action he or she does. And then suddenly you and this other person (or perhaps a third or fourth person) swap places. You're in control and the other person(s) can only watch what you do. Imagine what a mess this could create in your life?
I wrote a short story last night. There's a contest - with a fast approaching deadline - that I was asked to submit to. The only requirements: 500 to 2500 words, and it had to incorporate the theme of death. That's right up my alley. But a short story? Oh, I forgot to mention the other requirement - no erotica. Well, the only short stories I write are erotica. My poetry, lyrics, ramblings, novels - those are many other different subject matters, rarely ever crossing that line. But my short stories always stay on that side of the line. And I can't write that? But, I enjoy a good challenge. So, I wrote one. I haven't decided if I'm going to submit it though - it really isn't all that good. And it definitely needs a lot of work... too much to be able to acceptably accomplish by Friday midnight.
It really sucks when you know what's wrong with you, but you don't know how to fix it. It's like - 1000 piece puzzle. You have the pieces all spread out in front of you, and the picture on the box of how it's supposed to look, but no clue how to put it all together. I've never been good at jigsaw puzzles. I've never been good at putting together broken things. I've never been good at accepting that others also can't always put together broken things. Of course, sometimes I think I'm a jigsaw puzzle missing a few pieces... or worse, got mixed up with another puzzle so all the pieces don't even belong to me - which is why I can't be fixed.
I had several other random thoughts spinning around in my head... encompassing everything from regrets, to psychoses, to darker thoughts, to regrets. But, they're all scrambling, hiding in corners and behind pillars. And so, I shall hush... and go back to eating chips and a very yummy homemade chip dip made out of ghost chili sauce.
I really shouldn't watch Law & Order: SVU. It's a great television show - must be considering how many seasons it has lasted. But the subject matter is sometimes difficult to get through. Tonight's new episode was particularly hard. Usually they don't show the crimes as they happen - just hint at what's about to happen, and then you see the body, or the person lying in a hospital. Tonight's was a rape, a visual one, a disturbing one. One that would probably give nightmares to anyone who's ever experienced something which was almost the exact duplicate of such an atrocity.
Oh how desperately I dislike fish. Every night come interruptions - always when I am writing, or watching television, or just trying to relax. And always regarding the fish. And always in frustration. As if I am the fish encyclopedia and am intentionally withholding information on how to care for these slimy little creatures. We lost another one of the little things tonight. Lucky me got to flush him down the toilet.
Multiple personalities - I have been thinking a lot on this topic tonight. Have you ever considered that maybe some of us truly do have multiple personalities? Except, generally, when someone is thought to have these, they don't realize it. They don't know they are multiple people, and have no recollection of what the other people do. But maybe for some of us it's a little different. It's like... you're in a room, you can see into the next room but the person in there can't see you. You can hear the person in the other room, but that person can't hear anything you say. You have no control over this other person, but are perfectly aware of every action he or she does. And then suddenly you and this other person (or perhaps a third or fourth person) swap places. You're in control and the other person(s) can only watch what you do. Imagine what a mess this could create in your life?
I wrote a short story last night. There's a contest - with a fast approaching deadline - that I was asked to submit to. The only requirements: 500 to 2500 words, and it had to incorporate the theme of death. That's right up my alley. But a short story? Oh, I forgot to mention the other requirement - no erotica. Well, the only short stories I write are erotica. My poetry, lyrics, ramblings, novels - those are many other different subject matters, rarely ever crossing that line. But my short stories always stay on that side of the line. And I can't write that? But, I enjoy a good challenge. So, I wrote one. I haven't decided if I'm going to submit it though - it really isn't all that good. And it definitely needs a lot of work... too much to be able to acceptably accomplish by Friday midnight.
It really sucks when you know what's wrong with you, but you don't know how to fix it. It's like - 1000 piece puzzle. You have the pieces all spread out in front of you, and the picture on the box of how it's supposed to look, but no clue how to put it all together. I've never been good at jigsaw puzzles. I've never been good at putting together broken things. I've never been good at accepting that others also can't always put together broken things. Of course, sometimes I think I'm a jigsaw puzzle missing a few pieces... or worse, got mixed up with another puzzle so all the pieces don't even belong to me - which is why I can't be fixed.
I had several other random thoughts spinning around in my head... encompassing everything from regrets, to psychoses, to darker thoughts, to regrets. But, they're all scrambling, hiding in corners and behind pillars. And so, I shall hush... and go back to eating chips and a very yummy homemade chip dip made out of ghost chili sauce.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Pseudonyms
I was recently asked about my pen name "Rianna Tyler." While those who know me, know where my last name came from, they are curious as to how I decided on my first name.
Before I get into the answer to this question, I have to tell you - the opportunity to give yourself a name is quite exciting. And, it's very difficult - especially when you're one with many voices/personalities. I have actually gone through several pseudonyms... and it is entirely possible Rianna will not stick. That said...
Before I explain how I got my pseudonym, I must first go back to my first pen name, and all the revisions.
When I was a teenager, I often signed my writing S. Lynn. While this started as the first initial of my last name (Snare) and my middle name (Lynn... duh), the S. eventually came to mean "Samantha". Samantha... or, Sami, was also the name of the fake person I made up to torment people. The tormenter was Samantha (Sami) Adams. The writer was Samantha (Sami) Lynn.
And then came the internet age. Oh how exciting... chat rooms, false identities... it was all so appealing to someone like me - someone with multiple personalities. My first chat-room name was slynn... which, amongst the many faceless names, seemed rather untelling. And so I changed it to rogue - my favorite X-men character. But this really wasn't me. Although, in a way, the character seemed to fit me, it was a stolen name. So, rogue eventually turned into Blackwidow... and Devil's Child... and LuvSpell... and the list went on. And, depending on the personality present at that time, all these names did have a place.. a meaning... a reality. But, they aren't pen names you write under.
One day, I saw the name Kiara and decided I loved that name. So she became my new personality. The last name became Rose - a flower I have been regrettably compared to many times. And, I did like Kiara. It was a good name to write poetry and romance under, but, I grew tired of it. And, in a state of depression, I decided to choose a new chat-room name - Scarlet Rain. This one reminded me more of my blackwidow/devils child days. It wasn't a name I could write under, but oh how it fit me.
Well, one day, while just a little tipsy, I misspelled my name - I was Scarlet Rian... and the Rian caught my eye. I added the 'na' to the end, and dropped the scarlet, and voila! Rianna was born.
Anyway, it took a few years before Rianna was given a last name. But, the name fits me. The rain she was born from, the name she is attached to, the uniqueness while not being overly different.... she is me, I am she. And, there you have the story of the birth of a pseudonym.
Before I get into the answer to this question, I have to tell you - the opportunity to give yourself a name is quite exciting. And, it's very difficult - especially when you're one with many voices/personalities. I have actually gone through several pseudonyms... and it is entirely possible Rianna will not stick. That said...
Before I explain how I got my pseudonym, I must first go back to my first pen name, and all the revisions.
When I was a teenager, I often signed my writing S. Lynn. While this started as the first initial of my last name (Snare) and my middle name (Lynn... duh), the S. eventually came to mean "Samantha". Samantha... or, Sami, was also the name of the fake person I made up to torment people. The tormenter was Samantha (Sami) Adams. The writer was Samantha (Sami) Lynn.
And then came the internet age. Oh how exciting... chat rooms, false identities... it was all so appealing to someone like me - someone with multiple personalities. My first chat-room name was slynn... which, amongst the many faceless names, seemed rather untelling. And so I changed it to rogue - my favorite X-men character. But this really wasn't me. Although, in a way, the character seemed to fit me, it was a stolen name. So, rogue eventually turned into Blackwidow... and Devil's Child... and LuvSpell... and the list went on. And, depending on the personality present at that time, all these names did have a place.. a meaning... a reality. But, they aren't pen names you write under.
One day, I saw the name Kiara and decided I loved that name. So she became my new personality. The last name became Rose - a flower I have been regrettably compared to many times. And, I did like Kiara. It was a good name to write poetry and romance under, but, I grew tired of it. And, in a state of depression, I decided to choose a new chat-room name - Scarlet Rain. This one reminded me more of my blackwidow/devils child days. It wasn't a name I could write under, but oh how it fit me.
Well, one day, while just a little tipsy, I misspelled my name - I was Scarlet Rian... and the Rian caught my eye. I added the 'na' to the end, and dropped the scarlet, and voila! Rianna was born.
Anyway, it took a few years before Rianna was given a last name. But, the name fits me. The rain she was born from, the name she is attached to, the uniqueness while not being overly different.... she is me, I am she. And, there you have the story of the birth of a pseudonym.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
how i've missed this...
the feel of cold steel
against flesh
slipping, sliding
the deepness of the red
flowing
the release
the desire
the sudden calmness
ah how i've missed this
the pain
the tears
escaping, flowing
the deepness of the warmth
flowing
the truth
the desire
the sudden peace
ah how i've missed this
against flesh
slipping, sliding
the deepness of the red
flowing
the release
the desire
the sudden calmness
ah how i've missed this
the pain
the tears
escaping, flowing
the deepness of the warmth
flowing
the truth
the desire
the sudden peace
ah how i've missed this
This is Who I Am
Oops.... it seems the post which was here has magically disappeared. Be grateful :)
Drinkin' and Thinkin'
Drinkin' and Thinkin'
by brandi eissinger/rianna tyler 3/2/2013
It's only 10 o'clock and I'm already drinkin'
just thinkin'
about you
It always seems to work this way when I remember
december
with you
You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
It's only one o'clock and i'm already cryin'
my heart dyin'
missing you
This is a common occurrance when faced with the memory
of you and me
I'm missing you
You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
Why did you have to go
Why did you have to leave
You must have known
You were the one who made me believe...
You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
by brandi eissinger/rianna tyler 3/2/2013
It's only 10 o'clock and I'm already drinkin'
just thinkin'
about you
It always seems to work this way when I remember
december
with you
You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
It's only one o'clock and i'm already cryin'
my heart dyin'
missing you
This is a common occurrance when faced with the memory
of you and me
I'm missing you
You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
Why did you have to go
Why did you have to leave
You must have known
You were the one who made me believe...
You were the one who taught me how to love again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
You were the one who taught me how to trust again
but then
you left me alone
drinkin' and thinkin'
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