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My Review of “JANE TWO” by Sean Patrick Flanery


Click on the image above to reach the Website for JaneTwo.com

To do a writer justice, one must have the kindness in their heart to leave a positive review after reading such a wonderfully told story that they want to share with all their friends, and then some.

 This is my review of “Jane Two

Canadian readers Click on the book for purchase at Amazon.ca

Canadian readers Click on the book for purchase at Amazon.ca

OMG!  I just finished Jane Two and let me just say there were many pauses near the end to wipe my eyes that I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it through to the end. Then, I had to completely stop and wash all the make-up off my face as my eyes would have scared the life out of Alice Cooper , himself, for a real bad interpretation of his musical persona. Dear gawd! I’ve read books that have moved me to tears before but that one….dayyum!

I finished 15 minutes ago and I’m still an emotional mess.

WOW!! just ain’t gonna cut it as there are not near enough positive words I could give you that will let you know how utterly I pleased I am that I purchased this book. You simply must read it.

US Readers Click on the image for purchase of the book at Amazon.com

US Readers Click on the image for purchase of the book at Amazon.com

I have read a lot of books in my 47 years on this earth and this is the second book in my reading history that has pulled this much emotion out of me. I don’t know if it’s my current age or a combination of age, wisdom and understanding of life at this point but damn, that was a ride well worth it. It took me a total 3 days of reading as I am not a speed reader, I prefer to soak up the written word into my soul and let it resonate and allow myself to reflect on what I have read before going to sleep at night. This allows the story to seep into my Grey matter and stay there, also, I daydream the story, as it unfolds, I find it a more personal journey with the writer in doing this.  Can I just tell you how much I fell in love with this story.

I loved this book!

Click on the image above for Reviews and Discussion on Jane Two on Goodreads.

Click on the image above for Reviews and Discussion on Jane Two on Goodreads.

During my reading adventure I actually stopped a few times and had an in-my-head private conversation with the writer, a man I’ve never met or even talked to, but it had to be done.  You see several times he caught me off-guard and I felt I needed to tell him that.  He made me feel things, you know, I got ” the feels”, and this is exactly what I want when I’m reading something wonderful.

Everyone I know loves a coming of age story and this one was well crafted with many personal touches laid within its pages.  I don’t want to give anything way as far as the story itself goes, but what I do want to do is entice you to want to read it.  Place yourself back into your youth and all the possible scenarios that growing up can bring. A well-knit family with strong values. An older sibling you knows how to torment the younger.  A family pet you just want to hug.  Grandparents who are wiser than anyone you’ve ever known.  Having to stand up to bullies and become your own person.  Learning about loss and how to cope with emotions. Then hug a big pillow and stare out your window for a second to see the sun.  You will be able to relate on so many levels that you will actually transport yourself back many years and relive some of your own coming-of-age memories.  The good, the bad and the ugly.  You will laugh, cry and sit up in complete and utter shock throughout this book.  You will feel everything at every moment as if it is unfolding right in front of you.  You will find moments of laughter and yet you will also find a commonality and a new friend you thought you would never have.  You will cheer and get rowdy for a moment and then you will reflect.  I could clearly paraddle on, but I won’t.  What I will do is say a personal “THANK YOU” to Sean, ( I mean no disrespect by calling you by your first name, but I really feel like we are friends now) for creating such a wonderful, heartfelt story, that you opened my eyes back to my youth and though things weren’t always rosy and shiny, in the end there was always lessons to learn and a reason to smile and carry on.



I will leave you with this final thought, love your children, hold them close for tomorrow is promised to no-one.

Sean, I pray I did you justice with this review as I am an off-the-cuff writer who does not follow the general guidelines of writing.  Thank you for your creation, one that I shall treasure for a lifetime.





Now, go out and buy this book!


Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

The Housewife Diaries #6 – Taking Down Walls


Some times in life we have to let out some of our own humility and bare our souls to the world so that others know they haven’t faced their own demons alone.  I faced quite a few horrible things in life but I’ve overcome them all.

This little essay is not meant to offend anyone and is not for those who are easily offended by one persons perspective.  

Please read with an open mind and not a closed one.

The saddest fact is we live in a world where bad things really do happen.

All rights reserved.

   **No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded, or otherwise, without the prior written consent from the Author and publisher Gillian Anne Gibson**

 Sometimes-you-put-wallsA friend asked me once……….

“How do I stop?”

“I have a habit and it’s the hardest one to break…… see, I have been in love and been totally loved before.”

“I want that back, only problem is, I am constantly protecting myself.  I throw out sarcasm and wear a mask to hide how I truly feel.  I guess to push people away, so I’m not vulnerable to being hurt.”

“I’ve done it for so long to keep myself strong and protected that I do it even when my lips want to say to someone special ” I Love You and I adore you”.

“Instead, what comes out is a sarcastic remark and I’m left wishing I would have said how I really feel.”

“How do I stop putting up this shield?”

“How do I let go of this fear?”

“I want to be loved and I want to give my love, tell me please ow to stop doing this”…………

Sincerely Stuck


First, let me tell you, I am but a mere woman.  I am not in any way, shape or form a Psychologist or doctor of any kind.  I’m merely a student of life.  With that said let’s look at some basics.

Emotional Walls

We’ve all done this at various ages.


Well, #1  It’s a really easy defense mechanism, isn’t it?  If we block people out, they can’t hurt us.  But by blocking off one relationship it can occasionally have a great effect on one or more other relationships, now can’t it?  The domino effect equals pain in all directions.

#2  Control what will happen next.  This is just something we convince ourselves is fact when in actuality life plays out as it’s supposed to.  You really have no real power over another human being, only yourself.  You simply can not predict how someone else is going to behave.  But you can control your own actions.

#3  Walls – keep you as your former self, the person you were yesterday and the day before.  WAKE UP SELF!  You aren’t that person any more, you’ve grown some since then.  You can’t be a warrior and wear someone else’s armour, now can you?

Stop and take a good look around.  That person, that individual or individuals that hurt you, well they aren’t around any more, are they?  Yet, you hold on to their ghosts with the walls you built up around yourself.  You can’t get out and no-one else can get in.  So now you’ve gone and got yourself stuck.  Look, your walls may have worked when the one who hurt you was still lingering around your garden gate.  But they’re gone now.  They’ve moved on and look at you, standing there in your own home-made emotional quicksand.  Hardly seems fair, does it?

Okay, so, I get it.  You were hurt in every way possible – emotionally – mentally – possibly even physically as well so you shut down, hit life’s pause button, shut everyone out.  now, your heart has rusted up like the tin-man.  Do you realize what an exhaustive state you’ve put yourself in?

There you are, wall built up, standing in quicksand and rusted.  Well shit, you’re a mess.

Now, it’s going to be uncomfortable for a bit but I believe we can oil you up to moveable function and pull you out of the quicksand with the back-hoe but those walls, well, you, my darling, are going to have to deconstruct them one fat fucking brick at a time.  Fear not, all is not lost.


Deconstruct & Rebuild

You need to learn your truths.  What makes you, you?

Here are some fundamental truths in life:

  1.  Heartbreak will not break you, it hurts for a while but you survive it.  
  2. Not every relationship we experience is a ‘love of a lifetime’.  You will learn the signs of impending downfall with each one and it will make you stronger for the next one.  it’s just the way it goes.

Now, don’t make the mistake of comparing each one either because they will all be different. ( P.S. it is inevitable, you’ll do it at about 3-4 years into a new relationship, OH YES YOU WILL, but you really shouldn’t ) MENTAL NOTE TO YOURSELVES >>>> comparisons, especially out loud and to your partner spell up and coming disaster.

Look, all relationships change over time.  A small fact you can guarantee will happen.

Here’s Nine relationship phases, see how you can relate:

NOTE: ** All phases are what are considered ” compatibility test checks”

It all starts off with the INFATUATION phase

  • intense  attraction
  • uncontrollable urge to be with each other
  • intensely sexually attracted
  • here, any flaws are overlooked


  • getting to know each other
  • long conversations ( and you actually pay attention to every word said )
  • everything about each other is interesting or fascinating
  • everything seems so romantic

After a mere few months of bliss we enter the DISTURBANCES phase

  • you usually have your first fight
  • a confrontation
  • tears shed
  • but, the entire incident is quickly resolved

and after you graduate that hump, you travel over to THE OPINION MAKER phase

  • now you are developing opinions of each other
  • you pretty much know what to expect from each other by now as well
  • and assumptions about commitment are pretty much born around this time and some of these opinions & assumptions can lead you to feeling ecstatic or depressed or a bit of both.  Hello! confusion or in today’s status “It’s Complicated”

Next up at bat is THE MOULDING phase ( aka Expectations )

  • now you are trying to mould each other into your own expectations of each other ( I can change that little bad habit etc. )
  • give and take
  • bend or convince the other to see it your way
  • power struggles begin
  • if you get past here, it may just work.  But if one or both of you are to dominant, it could mean the end.

If you have survived the moulding phase then you have actually entered into the HAPPY phase

  • you have changed equally for each other, without any mental anguish, and the relationship is progressing
  • expectations are understood
  • happiness is all around you

 You’ve heard about the seven-year-itch in marriage right?    –  An old-school term used years back.  Well………….

Welcome to the DOUBTS phase      >>> Sounds Scary RIGHT?! <<<

  • by now you’ve been together for quite a few years.  In today’s age I’d say about 3 maybe 4 years.
  • doubts are starting to creep in
  • you’re both a few years older
  • you’re outlook on life may be changing
  • here is usually where you start looking at past relationships ( I TOLD YOU SO )
  • eyes start wandering, insecurities about getting older are setting in
  • happiness vs life vs the relationship >> the big question >> IS THIS WHERE I WANT TO BE?
  • you wonder, what will things be like 2 or 3 more years from now?

Enter Kinky or Sexy to stay in the game……….. That’s right people! SEXUAL EXPLORATION phase ( taking it to the next level )

  • sex has now become a chore, what?!  Really?!  Ummm, yes!  It’s always the same, has to be planned, cause you are both tired from long days at work, or you may have kids that pretty much run your life to the point where have to hire a sitter and go away for a weekend that you can’t really afford, which in turn stresses you out even more,  for a romantic moment only to fall asleep on each other because you’ve just realized how quiet it is without the kids and you’re exhausted. WOW!!!! ( The Monopoly GUY retired so Captain Obvious will step in and say “Go directly to bed, do not pass Go, do not pick up 200.00, you can actually just find 200.00 more to pay for the Hotel room! ) 
  • sex is now at its pivotal role
  • looking for new sexual excitement ( NOTE FOR MY LADIES >> rumour has it when men hit their 40s they look for Skinny 20 somethings to make them feel more alive and require performance enhancing medication to keep up with them, of course it’s just a rumour, but that’s what my ex did, just saying, and that was his excuse.  Mind you after the brief encounter with the blonde with the fake titties on his job site didn’t last more than a minute he went to the Dominican and picked out a mail order bride with three kids and abandoned his own three kids for her, it’ll be a green-card wedding LOL)
  • you’ve become predictable from start to finish.  This is a big reason a lot of relationships don’t make it past 3 or 4 years.  If sexual interests differ too much and there is no communication about it one or both of you may end up stepping out and having an affair.  Then it’s probably game over.
  • If, together, you can find exciting and creative ways to make sex more enjoyable you can strengthen your relationship rather than ruin it.

Master that and the 9th phase, complete TRUST is yours

  • You love each other, flaws & all
  • there is an unbreakable trust
  • you know what direction you’re going in
  • you know each other inside and out
  • never is a moment together taken for granted

Never stop your appreciation for each other.  Don’t let the dark side of any phase overcome you without trying to fix it.

Now, knowing all this are you ready to take down those walls?

Risk is one side, love is the other.  Were are you willing to bend to get the love you want?

Building walls is a slight imperfection we all have.  It is part of us.  Is the person you want worthy of tearing down that wall?    Only you can decide.


Breaking down the Walls:

First, know the difference — Emotional walls and Personal boundaries are two different things.

No-one wants to feel unfulfilled and hungry for affection.  We all need an emotional connection to someone else.

We all know it’s difficult to stick up for our emotional needs when we are emotionally connected to another.  So, a good place to start is by having personal boundaries.  Once you know what they are pay attention and never ignore the early warning signs.  Pay attention to their track record and how they treat other people they love.  You can pretty much expect the same.  There are always signs, if you are paying attention, you will see them.

The biggest tip I can offer is spend time with yourself.  Start doing things that feel good and never engage in drama.  Don’t hold our feelings in, let them out.  Holding things in is like a super-surge building up behind the walls of a dam and when it bursts it will all come spilling out like a flood and once it starts it won’t stop until the water has run dry.  Someone, the wrong someone, could be the receiving party for all that pent-up emotion.  You must learn to speak about what you are feeling.  Remember the guy from Monte Python’s Meaning of Life? ( it may have been food ) but he ate his feelings and BOOM!

Emotional walls make love impossible as long as you keep them up.  It will cause you to attract all the wrong people and push away all the right ones.  Not to mention the fact that they make you even more sensitive.  You know what I mean, right?

You read into every little thing, assume the worst about everything and everyone, shut yourself down at any provocation and make yourself a forever victim.  The only power a victim has is over you and it’s accountability.  Right?!  You see, as a victim – you make yourself always right — they did it to me, I draw in unhappiness every time because of them.  I have no luck.  I tried to hard.  I suffered.  I don’t deserve this.  Don’t you realize by keeping yourself in this victim stage, you are never at fault for anything, therefore, you never have to do anything to change.  Don’t go on and on blaming others for your pain, you’re only holding yourself hostage.  Set yourself free damn it.

If you stay a victim, you will always have pain and life will just revolve around that pain.  Don’t ever become so attached to your pain that you don’t know who you are without it, that would be tragic.  Healthy folks experience pain but an unhealthy person will live the pain, this leads to all kinds of tragedies.  So, you need to feel good about you.  Thus, personal boundaries are born and you start making choices to better yourself.  Find you first before looking for anyone else.  Self-provide without anyone’s help.  Remember “What bout Bob?”  That’s right, “Baby Steps!”

If you trip and wind up marinading in a pain bath.  Stop for a second and pamper yourself.  You are allowed vulnerability, it’s okay.  You will feel awkward around some people. You may feel little anxiety.  But remember you’ve shut yourself off from everyone for so long it’s going to be like experiencing these emotions for the first time.  You’ll be somewhat of an emotional virgin only now, you’re one with boundaries.  Ah! see how that works?

Now, you are starting to see that for you to really live you must get rid of old, painful emotions and let new, healthy emotions take their place.  You need to realize that people can, in fact, sense your emotional walls.  You feel that part of you trapped inside and they feel you shutting them out.  So, really, you’re not fooling everyone like you thought you were.  Are you?  Too many walls make you numb.  You lose the feel for passion and excitement.  If that happens how can you possibly have any real moments to experience.  To take down those walls you must say the things you never said, get angry about the things you should have, cry the tears you held back all this time, all of them.  You don’t need to protect yourself with those walls any more.  Time to let go.

Remember, new love heals old pain.  Take that leap forward and find new love, let it in.  I needed all of this to heal myself so I’m not just waxing words here.  I’ve been there.  I know what it’s like.  work on healing your unfinished emotional business.  Write about it if it helps.  Hell, you can burn it afterwards if you want to.  Allow the love inside you to come out, you deserve to.  You have all the courage deep inside you to let go.  you are strong-willed.  You can do this.

Rid your heart of the shadows that are selfish.  Bring out your compassion.  Remove the inner blockade.

You are truly magnificent.

You are a wonder.

You are free.




Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**


The River Legacy


I sat by the river’s edge

all I could hear was the water

flowing in a graceful trickle

I was at peace that day.

The gentle breeze danced on my skin

as it caused tiny little ripples

it was pleasing, so pleasing I dipped my feet in off the end of the dock.

As I sat there gazing out across the river I started to wonder…..

What legacy shall we leave behind for younger scribes as they find their way here.


The river is peaceful

so we shall leave peace

The river is calm

so we shall guide them to calmer days

The river is clear

so we shall leave them with clear thoughts of who they want to be

and make sure they don’t become muddled in who others want them to be.

The river makes us tingle

washes us clean

it removes the smoggy film from our eyes so that we may see truth

it lifts our spirits from dark shadows that want to hold us back.

The river legacy is here to make sure that every budding scribe who wants to write out their dreams as they see them, the way they want the world to see them, raw and real, not altered by another who distorts their visions.

The river legacy to have the new step forward, learn from the old

thrive and leave as many rose petals as they can on the footpath.

Generation after generation will find their way to the river’s edge and like you and I, the birth of each quill will spill forth and flow always keeping the rivers flowing

and when the rains come the rivers will rise and the quills will dance.

The river legacy will never see death or its demise

because the quills will always flow

An eternity of creativity will light up the night sky like fire flies

and they will dance.



Copy Right Protected  by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

Abstruse Inamorata by Quintessence



his dirty little secret.

She openly displays

her affection

her adoration

her love.

He displays

on mirrored notes from her

nothing of his free will

or is it willingness of choosing not to.

She professes

she confesses

he watches

the dance begins.

Pledges made

behind closed doors.

But she’s the one who openly explores

her inner whore.

Sharing their time

with those she adores.

When will she get it

when will she see

He doesn’t love her

as she wants it to be.

She is a secret

a hidden play thing

He’s not as serious

as his love has no meaning.

She is his fun time

sex without commitment

while his wife sits at home

soaking up the financial enjoyment.

He does not buy her

extravagant gifts

no flowers

no jewellery

no trinkets of love.

Those, he saves for his wife

when she has little fits.

Where have you been

who’ve you been with

do you think I can’t smell

your whoring little quiff.

Your family is here

if that’s what you want

or do you want to run off

with that penniless cunt.

This is the last straw

Your things are on the lawn

packed in bags

you ass-hole

get up and be gone.

He decides he’s not ready

to begin a family anew

He ruined the first one

for a drug induced screw.

She should have paid mind

to the signs all around her.

She was never more than a means to escape his mid-life disaster.

Now she cries

each night

and each day.

The jump with the blow-job

was a cute little trick

but that’s where his brain’s at, 

in the end of his prick.

Bend her over

snap a shot.

She’s a slut in the bedroom

but her life’s full of rot.

The affair was such fun

until they were caught

Secret Lovers they were

but now they are not.

She was used in the moment

It is her own fault

she knew he was married

yet she sucked his dick and opened her vault.

He’d leave his wife and spend his life

forever and always with her.

Foolish woman she was

but couldn’t figure it out

how he used her for access

to what he was really about.

A simple way in

drugs, sex and sin.

It’s where Inamorata ends

and abstruse deception begins.

His wife and three kids moved on with new lives.

He died drunk, stoned, brilliant and alone.

He couldn’t go on.

He fucked it all up

one morning at dawn.




Original written work of Gillian A. Gibson CopyRight Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2015

Original written work of Gillian A. Gibson Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2015



Writer’s Wilderness – A Quintessential Truth #27



Have you ever tried to convince someone in your life that writing frees you and been met with skepticism?

You’re not alone.  Most writers have faced this at one point.  The important thing is not to give up and to find ways to have them on your side for support.

It’s difficult when a writer faces their own doubts but when family members cause doubt your passion to write dwindles and you start to wonder that maybe you’re just not cut out to be a writer.

The crucial support you need can sometimes feel like it’s hard to find.  Family members can sometimes crush your spirit by reminding you that a reliable and steady paying job is more important or bring up past failures.  Your new direction scares them.Writers face skepticism and doubt, it’s just part of a writer’s wilderness.  You need to hit it head on or you won’t survive it.  It is tenacity, focus and determination that will get you through it.  Press forward, get stronger and commit yourself to it.

When your family or those closest to you are not supportive you must press on to reach your own personal goal with your writing.  Don’t let others hold you back.  Remember when you volunteer to much information it can invite interference in what you are trying to achieve. So, when a family member inquires just provide them with a short general description.


Many people still hold down full-time jobs and write in their spare time as a hobby or self-therapy, there’s no harm in that. Protect your personal space and keep a positive outlook on what you are doing.

Someone wise once told me to choose my confidants wisely and it’s true.  It’s important for you to know who you can go to, to ask for help or to bounce an idea or two off and not be ridiculed or have any of your ideas stolen from you.  These trusted people will give you straight responses but will also give you an uplifted feeling at the same time. Like-minded souls are the best to surround yourself with.  These souls are the ones you share everything with confidently, especially any fear or failure you think you are having.

I was also reminded at one point to prepare myself for some negativity.  Mainly because writing provokes discussion. Things can get tough sometimes but if you’re prepared for it,it won’t come as such a shock when it happens.  And, it will at some point.

Give yourself a goal and work towards it little bits at a time.  Start off small, a little poetry,an essay or a short story.  If you’re afraid of the reactions of family try not telling them you wrote it at first and just say read this and tell me what you think as a testing ground. They’re more honest when they don’t know it’s you right away.  Personally I was met with positive results.

If your family is completely unsupportive find a community or a group with similar interests to your own.  Make sure it’s members are spurring each other on.  If all works well you may become friends with some of these people for many years,even a life-time. Never be afraid to leave or move on from groups you feel are not the fit you were looking for.  You may move through many groups before you find the right one.  I had a friend come to me once who had been absolutely crushed as the writing group she had chosen wanted her to completely change her story and style of writing to suit their needs and not allow her to be a free bird and write as she felt she should.  This appalled me, it is one thing to become part of a group to want to change or better your writing but to be personally attacked by a member who thinks they run things out of their own audacity and crush the soul of another is just plain wrong in my eyes.  Being supportive and letting one flourish is the most important thing there is.

Always remember what connections you’ve made are best for you to move forward and grow.  It’s okay to let go of the rest.  Especially if you’ve found yourself surrounded with negativity and drama, it can crush a creative mind.  Negativity can ruin your mood for days.  You owe yourself to avoid things that could trigger mood swings and stall your creative side.

When ever you are not feeling enough love and support from those around you, try to create a routine that will benefit your physical and emotional well-being and keep you in a good mind-set.  Tip:  music helps.

Learn to embrace some emptiness. Things are always changing around us but in those darker times you can learn to reach deep inside yourself and create something you once thought impossible.  Sometimes, during darker helping another provides a fulfillment you find appealing and opens up your creative mind to a whole new plain.

You can become successful at writing when you remove your own restrictions and you can do it despite any lack of support from your family.  You must choose to believe you can do it.  Believe it is possible.  For every family member who feels negative when you decide to step up your writing game there are dozens out there waiting to read your next piece.

Don’t be afraid to write personally.  Be intimate with your readers.  This is how they got to know you and they don’t expect you to be perfect.  We’re all flawed in some way and it’s okay.

Write honestly and authentically.  Be yourself. Eventually your family does come around and accept that writing is a part of you. And, if they don’t, believe me when I tell you, you will survive.

So write, write, write.

Write it all out of yourself.

Even when you think you’ve hit a dry spell or lost your muse, it’s still there, inside you.

Until next time……….



Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

Candy-floss Pigtails and A Pair of Shitkickers: Friends just Get us


Have you ever felt so low about yourself that no matter what someone else says to you from their positive rainbow bank it just doesn’t register right away?

true-friends-quote.jpgI was a bitchy bitch today, a real Debbie-downer.  My friend tried his best to put a positive spin on things and I pissed all over his sunshine.  I know,fuck me right.  I have nerve.  I even had the gall to tell him he’s never really been there for me without giving him half a chance.  I suck right?

Depression is a morbid beast.  It sucks us into a self-loathing sink hole and a big part of us can’t get out on our own, although we do prefer to try.  Our friends try to throw us a rope of hope with a snickers bar attached to it and our broken grey matter says fuck you for trying to be nice but that shit’s gonna apply itself straight to my ass.

There’s just something about being depressed that makes us lack any rationality and at times we become so miserable we lash out at the very people who are trying to help us get past the dark moments.


I had sunk and sunk rather badly.  Not to the point where I wanted to hurt myself or even think of ending it all but I was in a pretty dark place.  It was swallowing every happy thought I had ever had.  Static in my head, I call it, that overwhelming feeling of helplessness that takes away everything till we feel nothing but hollow inside.  The one feeling that causes you to look in the mirror and start nit-picking on every little flaw you have and say to yourself no wonder no one wants to be around you, you’re a waste, you useless twat.

So, there I was, moping, and my friend randomly popped up to say hello and wish me a happy day and my sour-puss bared its ugly teeth and bit him.  Now you should know at this stage he normally would recoil and disappear but this time he didn’t, he stayed and stood his ground.  A little rumble in the jungle, kinda turns me on… *grin*


Anyhoots, he stayed and dammit he slapped me right on ass and said “REALLY!”

Well that stung a bit but I deserved it, after all I drew first blood, so, in turn, the bear bit back,I sat up straight.  It actually shocked me at first and then I read back what I had said to him and it offended me that I said it.  You know you should always read something before you hit send. (Mental note to self) If it would offend you coming from someone else addressed to you then clearly it will offend the person you are addressing.  What a bitch I was.  He even said ” I know your hardships and your soul, so that comment really fucking hurt, REALLY.”  Fuck!, I really stuck my foot in it this time, didn’t I?

He’s trying to cheer me up and my depression is turning me all bitch-face and snappy.  Life has been a real challenge for me lately, I really haven’t had much to say to anyone, mainly because everyone doesn’t need to be dragged down by my woes and be painted with my problems.  They all have woes of their own, I’m certain, and I never forget that.  We all wake up in the grey sometimes, some of us more than others due to our brains being wired all wrong.  Yet, one simple positive message can turn things around on a dime.


It’s rough trying to find an ounce of happy when you’re depressed. You fight everyone and everything positive, not because you want to but because depression suppresses your reasoning skills.  This is where you wind up trying to find ways to part the clouds.  We , the depressed, may seem quiet or, at times, unreasonable, but please know, we are trying our best to function and to get through our darkness in ways only we know how to do.  Sometimes we need a bit of a push to get started.  My friend, who knows me all to well, pushed me.  He knew I needed it and I completely adore him for sticking it out with me and not running away.  Not being saucy, just doing what real friends do.  Reminding us that they were once where we are currently sitting and that we were the ones acting as the life-line back to a life that truly matters.  For a brief moment I lost sight of that.


I used to read every single word and get it.  Lately, the words have floated past me and nothing has sunk in, nothing. That’s the life of someone living with depression.  Yet, I know we are never truly alone, even when it feels like we are. We are all frantically searching for light in our darkest hours, and it is there,if not, we all would have given up long ago.  Though all of our paths may deviate from time to time there are some things that remain constants.  We all possess the ability to inspire at least one other person, no matter how small the gesture may be.  We can help remind each other why we write it out of us, one small step at a time.  Do whatever it takes for you, may it be writing, drawing, singing, painting, whatever it is that brings you back.  It can get rather excruciating at times for the depressed but in the end we are battlers and lovers of life.

In most cases, at home, we don’t often have anyone who really gets us so we become entwined in somewhat of an alternate reality because on our most depressed days living live really bites.  On most days I know to wear my candy-floss pigtails and step out to face the world with my shit-kickers on and no-one is the wiser of what I’m battling on the inside.  But every once-in-a-while I fall victim to my depression and coming out of it isn’t an easy process.  Only those suffering from depression will truly get what it is I, and many others, face in these moments.


One thing, I know, for sure, is how to do me.  How to find my way out when I have fallen so deep.  But I can’t always do it on my own.  Sometimes I need a little help.  That help usually comes from friends laying down some harsh truth.  Easily, I could have gone back-and-forth with my friend in full fight mode, but really, that would solve nothing and make us both feel horrible at the end of the scope.  He can be somewhat of a man-cub and a selfish prick sometimes but equally, I can be a girl-cub and down-right selfish bitch all the same and we can tell each other this on the regular and not fight about it because we are true friends and have respect for each other.  We get each other. And, we’re not afraid to admit when we are wrong, though sometimes we will sit and hold our breaths until someone says uncle. Yes, we are also both stubborn as hell and there are times when we both have to be right.  But give a little and the rewards are splendid.  We’ve also learned how to pull each other out of our hiding spaces because our attire can match up perfectly when it needs to.  He in his clown shoes and me in my candy-floss pigtails.  Friends are great.  Friends know our ugliness, all the way down to the last nook and cranny and they never judge and more importantly, they never, ever leave.  They’re always there, through the good, bad and horrifyingly ugly, there they stand with bow ties, flowers that squirt water in our faces, claws and shit-kickers ready to take on the world.  Side by side we ride the roller-coaster of life.

Yes, this is me, broken, neglected and feeling alone. But I know I’ve got friends.  They’ll kick my ass, hold my hands,hug me and throw a pie in my face when I’m being and ass-hole but they’ll also throw me a life-preserver when I need it most.  I wouldn’t have it any other way.

My friend is an ass-hole just like me. He made me stop and think. I love my friend and he’ll get this and know the laugh behind it because he gets me, more than any other, he gets where all this came from.  Thank you, my friend, Always, because without you I’d still be lost, moping in my own shit pile of life.

I am a person, one of the people.  Now, I can see what it’s all for.  Had he not reminded me I’d still be curled up in a ball on floor.


We all have that friend,that one friend, who gets us and has a way of bringing a little perspective to what we can’t see.  Thank your friends on a regular basis because tomorrow is promised to no-one but you have them here with you today.




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Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults


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The Housewife Diaries #5 – Lifehouse Blues


There are a multitude of us on this planet that live with Depression and we always look for ways to get through.  This is just one bout of many and doesn’t necessarily reflect on the way that every depressed person sees things. Just me at this point.

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Have you ever just sat in your room for days and not known what to do with yourself?

During depressing days like this I listen to a lot of music.  No specific genre,I really just bounce around my playlist or search through the recommendations to find something to suite my mood.  Most of the time I don’t even know what that mood is on days like these.  I suppose a lost and non-purpose feelings are two of them.  Yet motivation slips past me. Depression really sucks and most people in our lives don’t understand it nor do they really want to.  Try to explain it to them and they tend to tune out rather quickly.  They’re in the room but really you just wind up having a conversation with yourself while they are on their cellphone pretending to listen to you try to explain what it is like to feel this way.

A couple of nights ago I decided to have a few drinks to quiet the static in my  head.  Good job I’m a light-weight not having drank in 7 years by choice.  I had two drinks and was completely buzzed and started feeling numb but at the same time my head was spinning.  The codeine didn’t help.  I quickly realized I did not like the feeling I was experiencing at all.  My common sense still in tact made me wise up so I ate some dinner and then tried to have another drink when I realized I did  not want it.  Up to my room I went.  I’d been doing errands all day and was physically hurting all over.  I watched a movie and my body and brain agreed I needed to sleep.  My stomach had other ideas.

I tossed and turned until 2:15 am when after several trips to the loo my need to purge became rather clear and my dinner met the porcelain prince.  Wouldn’t you know after that ordeal I managed to go straight to sleep saying never again.  And I meant that shit!

I can understand how people like me want to feel completely numb.  But I also realized it’s a slow death sentence should it continue at length.  One which I realized I am not going to allow myself to do.  I know what is causing the height of my current depression right now.  I’m jobless, flat broke and about $20,000.00 in debt with no current way out.  Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t given up, I’m a fighter but after spending the past three months applying for jobs and either being rejected or receiving no response at all I am incredibly frustrated and it is weighing rather heavy on me internally.

Each day I awaken with hope and a smile.  I fully realize that there are many people out there far worse off than I am. For the most part I have my health although I live with the chronic pain of Fibromyalgia, cluster headaches, have difficulty walking a times, have continuous daily lower back pain that no medication seems to take away, I suffer from Depression and Anxiety disorder, my limbs still move, I have a fully functioning brain,a roof over my head, clothing on my back and food on my table when I decide to make it. So why am I so damn sad?

My common sense says I shouldn’t be.  I’ve been used to providing for myself since I was 16 years old and I really don’t like the idea of having to rely on someone else for my needs. I feel guilt for not bringing in a pay cheque currently.  I’m so used to just going out and picking up what I need when I need it over the past 12 years that now I feel as helpless as a child. When I say I was outrunning errands the other day I mean I had a little money to go grocery shopping, which involves several different stores to get the sale items the best I can and make the items stretch as long as it is possible.  My Child Tax Benefit came in, I got a Child Support payment and before going away for the next ten days my husband gave me $90.00 cash.  But it still wasn’t enough and I had to use the last available limits on 3 of my 6 Credit Cards.  Food costs quite a bit when you try to eat healthy and stay away from the junk and crap that you don’t need.  Now I did buy myself 4 tank tops because the weather is quite warm right now and I did need them and I treated myself to a few new release movies and Season 2 of Orange is the New Black which probably could have waited a while but you know when you have cards you get the itch and it’s always been a problem for me to stay away from the movie section in Wal-Mart, they always have great prices.

The true sadness of it all didn’t hit me until now because now I’m freaking out wondering how am I going to pay off that debt with no job.  Yes we now have food to get us through the next two weeks or more but the Rent is still not paid yet this month and the month is almost over.  Why do we find logic after the fact.  I’ve tried to convince myself to cut up the 3 largest amount cards and stay away from them, they are trouble and I knew it when I got them but when I lost my job the first time they helped carry us through until I got another job. Now they are all maxed out and I currently have no way to pay them back and I’m upset with myself for it.

Why do we put ourselves in these situations all the time.  I had a full-time job which I’d manage to find after nine months of being unemployed unexpectedly and then I got really sick with a horrible virus that I contracted on the job which landed me in hospital and damn near stopped my heart due to sever dehydration.  Between the virus and the job stress my body didn’t recover right away.  I had no choice but to resign my position.  I couldn’t keep up with the call center atmosphere.  The shifts changed every week and were never the same  So I quit.  That was on February 24th this year.

Today is May 23rd and here I sit in my room at 4:17 am.  I should be asleep.  I have laundry and housework to do, it’s not going to do itself.  I have to scour the job ads and put in applications and keep trying.

My husband is away until the 29th of May and for as miserable as he makes me I miss him terribly when he’s gone more than a day or two.  I love him. He drives me crazy but I really don’t know I could be without him.  I say I want to be on my own all the time but I really don’t think I do.  I don’t know that I’d survive alone.  Here we think we don’t have a purpose but really we do.  Our frustrations guide our brains into chaos and we just want to run away from it all.  But if we ran what would we be running to?

I now realize how much of our time as adults we spend worrying about things that are out of our control.  How we knit-pick on every little thing.  We bitch and moan about the wrong things and ignore the things that matter.

If I didn’t sit here right now writing this out, I wouldn’t be able to rationalize my thoughts. They’d come off as white noise, static, in my head to accompany the insomnia I already suffer from along with everything else.  I see the words hit the paper and my thought process begins to tick. I rationalize with each sentence I write.  Mulling over what direction to go in.

Right now I’m going to pause for a cigarette break.  Yes, I know, it’s a filthy habit.  But it’s the only bad habit I really have.  I’ll get to ridding myself of it when I’m ready.

Right then, so I’ve had my ciggy, grabbed a Gatorade and taken my Zopiclone ( sleeping pills for sever insomniacs ) so when it kicks in it’ll be goodnight Irene and see you in about 12 hours.

I’ve just glanced back and realized this little self-therapy session has grown to eight pages in my little notebook.  And, why I have chosen to share this one with you is so you can see the process.  When you start writing things down they become real.  Real you can deal with before anyone else says a thing to you.  You see answers you actually provided for yourself.  No money spent on a therapist either. So I share it on my blog.  I have many different things here on my blog from poetry and verse to short stories and life essays. This is just one more for the vaults.  That’s the beauty of it.  I found my voice via my pen.  It may not be everyone’s cup of tea so-to-speak but there are people out there, people who get it.  People just like me, who get a little lost sometimes and I’m not afraid to let my weaker side-show. I’m human, no-where near perfect.  I’m flawed, scared and sometimes an emotional train wreck but hiding it doesn’t suit me. Emotionally damaged, why yes, I am, and always will be. But knowing how to bring myself out of a funk well now that’s pure talent. A talent I learned when I became damaged at the age of seven.

They say damaged souls will always find other damaged souls and I think we’re meant to.  It’s always okay to break sometimes and the stronger damaged souls teach the weaker damaged souls how to reboot and repair themselves.  We’re never going to be perfect but don’t you see, that’s the beauty of it.  We don’t have to be.  We’re the creative ones,the loving ones. The ones who when a the end of their rope chose to swing like a pendulum and keep time moving forward.  Life can turn that turnakit as tight as it wants to but we’ve figured out how to cut loose and heal on our own, repair any sustained injury life has dealt us and apply our own first aid.

They’re saying good morning, it’s a new day. Time to try to reach for that brass ring one more time.

Rise and Shine.

Share that smile.

Today is going to be a better day.  You’ve already made it this far.  Baby-stepping, one little step at a time.

Don’t give up!


Until next time……..


Copy Right Protected  by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

The Housewife Diaries #4 – Abandonment Issues


Some times in life we have to let out some of our own humility and bare our souls to the world so that others know they haven’t faced their own demons alone.  I faced quite a few horrible things when I was a child and this is just a small part of it.

This little essay is not meant to offend anyone and is not for the faint of heart.  Please read with an open mind and not a closed one.

The saddest fact is we live in a world where bad things really do happen.

All rights reserved.

   **No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded, or otherwise, without the prior written consent from the Author and publisher Gillian Anne Gibson**

Little Girl Lost & Abandoned

Little Girl Lost & Abandoned

When I was around eight years old my mum dropped us ( being myself and my little brother who was 2 1/2 years younger than me) on our father’s doorstep one Friday night and never came back.  For three years she was just gone.  This emotionally scared me for life and lead to a series of tragic events over the years of growing up that almost caused me to take my life.

The first being the fact that I cried for weeks, wouldn’t eat and developed my first eating disorder, depression, panic attacks and night terrors.

In the beginning of the abandonment my father was caring and tried to comfort me the best he cold.  But after a while he became impatient with me and finally angry and resentful.  He started spanking me every time I cried for my mum and sending me to bed without any supper.  So, I was always starving and when I would go to the candy store with my allowance I would shove extra things in my pockets and not pay for them.  I know what you are thinking, delinquent in the making right there.  When my father found out he beat the hell out of me with his fists and his leather belt.  Then he would bend me over the toilet and force me to throw up what I had eaten so I would go to bed hungry all the time.  he would get right up in my face turn beet-red and scream at me, call me names and terrify me. Parental tactics that an adult could never ever get away with in this day and age.

 I became so withdrawn.  I wasn’t allowed to bathe but once a week and I had to share the same bath water as my brother, he always went first so I got to bathe in his dirty and cold bath water. Father said it was so that we didn’t waste water.  I was only allowed to have one square of toilet paper when I went to the toilet and a lot of times had to use my own hand and then wash  it off with soap and water.  My teacher at school at the time noticed something wasn’t right and in an effort tried to become my friend.  Through special permission of the school board he got a Chinchilla to keep in the school’s library and I got to be the primary caretaker and bring it home on the weekends to look after him.  I really like this little job I had been given and I felt a little special.  That was right up until some other kids, the bullies, got jealous and they started picking on me.  First at recess by pushing me down and kicking me and calling me names.  then they got caught and got in trouble so they started waiting for me after school by the crossing guard and chasing me home.  They would gang up on me, there was five of them, all girls and all bigger then me.  At this stage I was scrawny and didn’t like to fight.  I was afraid of all of them and far to scared to even think of standing up to them because of the fear my father had put into me.  One day they pushed me down so hard they cut both my knees on the gravel pavement,kicked me in my stomach and my back and rubbed gum in my hair.  I got up and ran home and they chased me all the way to the front door of my apartment building.  And, instead of going to my apartment, I hid under the stairwell for an hour until they went away.  I told my dad and the first thing he did was say what did you do to make them mad.  When I said nothing he yelled at me and said I was lying and sent me to bed with no band-aids and no supper.  I was only allowed a glass of water and a piece of bread.

The next day at school we got called to the principal’s office.  It appears that one of the other students, a girl named Laurie, a big sized girl who was always being picked on for being plus size, saw what the other girls did to me and she told her mom and together they went and told the principal the next morning before school started.  After that Laurie walked me and my brother home every day.  But the bullying at school continued for the next three years, every time Laurie wasn’t around.

One winter we were outside having a snowball fight at recess.  You know the fun kind.  But one of the boys grabbed a huge chunk of solid ice and packed snow around it. Naturally when he called my name I looked right him and he whipped it like a fast-ball straight at my face hitting me directly in the eye.  He hit me so hard it knocked me off my feet and I couldn’t open my eye as it had instantly swollen shut.  I was so livid, I managed to get to my feet to chase after him but when I did I tripped over the wooden-board edging around the home-made school ice rink and both my arms flew up over my head so when I hit the ice it was chest first and I knocked the wind out of myself.  I tried to get up but I couldn’t breathe and I was reaching for them, crying and mouthing help me, I can’t breathe. The laughed at me and ran off.  I fully collapsed face first on the ice and lost consciousness.  Guess who found me half an hour later passed out cold in a blood pool where I had dropped, it was Laurie, she was late for school that day.  She ran inside and got the principal and they carried me into the school nurse.  I had a major black eye and my chin was split wide open and I had chipped both my front teeth. After a trip to the hospital and X-Rays I found out I had also suffered a head injury,my first of many concussions in my youth.  The pain from it all was awful.  I was off school for a full week and in so much pain.  I kept throwing up from the pain in my head and my jaw.  I couldn’t open my eye.  It took months to fully recover and I wound up with permanent damage to my eye.  There, to this day, is a yellow hue that never goes away.  My eyes are incredibly sensitive to light causing me to wear sunglasses outside year round.  After all this the school finally convinced my father to take me to a child psychologist to help me deal with the abandonment issues my mother caused and the bullying that some of the other kids were doing to me.


Until Next time………


Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

The Housewife Diaries #3 – Disasters Come Easy


Some times in life we have to let out some of our own humility and bare our souls to the world so that others know they haven’t faced their own demons alone.  I faced quite a few horrible things when I was a child and this is just a small part of it.

This little essay is not meant to offend anyone and is not for the faint of heart.  Please read with an open mind and not a closed one.

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Have you ever tried to talk to someone who refuses to hear you?

It has to be one of the most frustrating things you can have to deal with.  Especially when they are one of those people who think they are always right and try to make you feel like less than zero.  Like you don’t really matter at all.


I was raised in a messed up family from the word go.  My parents split and divorced when I as all of five.  My mother decided in her broken mind that a younger man of nineteen was the way to get her groove back but when she became pregnant the said nineteen year old’s man-balls decided to climb back up inside his body and he ran like a bear was chasing him in the woods.  So there’s a five-year old, a 2 and half-year old and an unwanted pregnancy.  She had an abortion, though forty-one years ago it was a quiet affair.  Not like today, where women just blurt it out over coffee like they’re talking about the latest fashion trends.  Any way, naturally after the pregnancy was terminated the nineteen-year old boyfriend came back.  Fuck, it reads like a damn teen soap opera.  Here’s the thing, he was nineteen, she was twenty-seven.  She worked at a bank as a teller, he was a student.  Every weekend she would have her new-found girlfriends over to our tiny little two bedroom apartment, were they would get drunk, dance and puke then pass out.  All, of course, in front of me and my little brother.

At one of these all night parties, they were all dolling each other up with make-up and mum kept pushing me away, telling me to go play in my room.  Some how I found myself in the bathroom and found mum’s razor and decided to shave my legs for the first time.  Well, let me tell you ladies a few tips.  first, and most importantly: NEVER, EVER, leave a razor where a child can reach it.  Second, always wet your legs first and use soap or shaving cream.  I sliced both my chins from my ankles all the way up to my knee-caps on both legs.  There was heaps of free-flowing blood and chunks of missing skin.  It took five drunk women and everything in the first aid kit to patch me up and I was kept home from school for an entire week at the babysitters cause my mum was afraid child protective services would come and take me away.  Plus she was embarrassed and thought they would think it was her fault or that she did it to me.  When I went for my weekend visitation with my father she made sure to remind me not to let him see my legs or I’d be in big trouble when I got home.

Now, because my mother was liking her new party life she became some-what promiscuous and sometimes the nineteen year old would stop by for a midday quicky, at six years old I didn’t know what sex was but I did walk in on them several different times and saw way more than I ever should have which made me very curious about boys.  You see, I saw mum’s boyfriend full-monty and she thought it was fun that all of us, her, the boyfriend and my brother and I all have showers together.  My first lessons in the male anatomy and how it grew when touched.  So, with this being said, I am about to tell you a humiliating story.  One day at the baby sitters when I was seven, I decided that we all should play doctor.  (Do you see where this is headed).  Anyway, there was me, my little brother, the babysitters daughter and her little brother.  So we had a kids play doctor kit and after seeing mother so open about being naked around the house I figured it was normal.  After all I’d seen mum play doctor with the boyfriend so it had to be okay, right?

We made the boys pull down their pants so we could look at their tackle and the play needle was one you could fill with water so we touched, put them in our mouth and cleaned them with the needle. (We swapped brothers by the way, no incest nonsense here)  But we got caught by the baby sitter and of course she told my mum it was all my idea and that I could go there any more.  I don’t remember what mum screamed at me but she spilled or rather, I should say, sloshed her drink all over me and I was grounded for a while month.  Even when I tried to tell her “but, I see  you and Fred do things like that all the time and you put it in your mouth”, she slapped me so hard and threw me in my bed and slammed the door shut.  My lip was all bloody and I wasn’t even allowed out to go to the toilet.

The moral of this short but very embarrassing part of the life I didn’t ask for is respect your children and never ever think they aren’t watching you.  Some things children should never see.   Certain things can ruin them.

Later on that same year I experienced my first flasher.  Mum, my brother an I were walking home through the woods and this fully naked grown man came walking out from the trees calling to my mother.  I think had we not been with her that day, he would have raped and killed her.  We ran like hell all the while my mother screaming for help.  We moved not long after that.

Some of the things we’ve faced as children have not been the most pleasant but we have made it through them and it doesn’t have to be a secret any more.


Until next time…..


Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

The Housewife Diaries #2 – The Decline of it all


This essay and story is a work of fiction.

 Names, places, characters, and actions are the product of the Author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or any business establishments or locales are entirely coincidental.

 All rights reserved.

   **No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded, or otherwise, without the prior written consent from the Author and publisher Gillian Anne Gibson**

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As time marched on Phil continued on, alcohol free, and in September Phil proposed to Kate.  Kate didn’t ever want to get married again and told Phil it was going to take  a lot of convincing.  He said he would convince her to change her mind.

Kate thought it would be a better idea rather than getting married she just wait until her divorce was final and legally change her last name to Phil’s.  So she did just that.  A few months later Phil was once again making the “when we get married” statements and getting Kate’s kids in on it.  Until about six months into his sobriety when he finally proposed to Kate which completely took all the air out of her lungs and after a heavy discussion Kate finally said I will only consider marrying you if you remain sober with absolutely no relapses at all.  If you can do that then on your one year sobriety anniversary we will marry.

Phil kept his promise and they married in a small family ceremony in a back yard style wedding on the exact day of the one year anniversary of his sobriety.

On their honeymoon night Phil pulled the I’m really tired, it’s been a long day and we should get some sleep move. This upset Kate greatly and she stated so.  Therefore they made love, but it was brief, basic and very un-fulfilling for her and he rolled over and went to sleep immediately afterwards.  This was yet another red flag that set her off into the land of doubt.  When they got back  home it wasn’t all sparks and fireworks like she’d expected it to be, it was more like yup, we’re married woopty-doo.  Kate was already having regrets.

Six months later Kate was feeling lonely.  She even called herself the loneliest married woman in the world.  They no longer had those late night bubble baths, cuddled together and watched tv or movies and sex was maybe once a month and getting further in between.  Instead when they got home from work Kate would make dinner for everyone and Phil just come home went straight up to the bedroom and spent all night on his laptop right until he went to bed.  Kate went to sleep at her regular bedtime of 11 pm as she woke at 4:45 am to get up and get ready for her job.  Phil on the other hand stayed up on his laptop until 2 or 3 in the morning, every night.

Phil soon stopped helping out around the house at about year one of their marriage, stating he didn’t do any housework or cleaning during the week because he worked.  Kate was appalled by this revelation.  Especially for the fact that they both worked full-time jobs.  She worked 7am to 4pm five days a week.  She would leave the house at 5:30 am and would not get home until around 6:00 pm every day.  On weekends, her days off, all she did was go out and buy the groceries, clean and do laundry while Phil sat on his laptop all weekend long.  Occasionally they would watch movies but more often than not they were movies Kate wasn’t really into.

Then they purchased, or rather, Phil purchased a little vacation spot.  A little cottage get away spot and two hours out-of-town into the quiet country.  From May to October, every weekend this is where they would be.  But just like at home, Phil did his own thing and left Kate in the cottage alone all the time.  They no longer did things together. More red flags and they were starting to fly high.

By year six they were just two people living in the same house like room-mates.  Every time Phil wanted something for himself like a boat or a sea-doo or an ATV 4-wheeler, he would just stop helping out with the household bill including their rent and go buy what he wanted and Kate was left to pick up all the arrears with everything that Phil neglected to help pay.  This left Kate with $20,000.00 in credit card debt and the rent and bills though she had caught them up to speed several times, always ended up in arrears because when she allowed herself to rely on him for help, he always let her down.

Now being totally sober for years and gaining back his driver’s license he wanted a car of his own.  So instead of paying the rent he took the rent money ad bought an old beat-up car.  Problem was once Kate managed to get the rent paid up by taking cash advances off her credit cards Phil did not keep his promise to maintain the other bills. Instead, he was always buying things for his car, things for his boat, things for his cottage, things for his sea-doo. Then the boat he had wasn’t big enough so he had to buy a bigger boat.  Each time putting them further and further in debt.  Leaving Kate to pay for everything to keep them afloat so they wouldn’t end up homeless.

Finally Kate couldn’t take it any more and she asked Phil to move out.  Gave him back her wedding ring and said it was over.  He refused to leave.  Instead he started working even later at night, sometimes not coming home until after midnight when Kate was already asleep.  He even started working on weekends through the colder months and staying at the cottage alone in the summer months.  They had completely grown apart with nothing in common any longer.  Kate was miserable and felt so alone, yet Phil still would not leave.

Kate tried many times to talk her feelings out with Phil but he just wouldn’t hear anything she had to say.  All he ever did was say there is more to a relationship that affection and sex and just get up, go to work, come home make his dinner and hide in the bedroom on his computer until bedtime every night.  Any time Kate tried to talk to him all he would do was bitch about money, bills and the state of the house but never once did he accept the responsibility for putting them in those dire situations.  It was always someone else’s fault.

Before Kate met Phil she was obsessive with cleaning.  she used bleach on everything. Her friends would come over and state things were so clean and organized you could eat off her floors.  Now, all these years later, between Phil bringing home junk for projects he always started and never completed and two lazy teenagers, Kate’s house was a wreck.  Broken TVs, computers and old furniture littered her entire basement alongside piles of wood and home-made cement blocks, a home-made dog house, an old giant executive desk that the kids had written all over, a couch that the cats decided to use as a pee-spot, broken up water-bed and old mattresses from twenty years back, the basement was a junk yard and forget about the garage, he managed to destroy that as well.

Kate had accidentally destroyed the main living area carpet by spilling a full can of wood stain while upgrading some of their furniture to give it a fresh look and though Phil tried to help by putting hardwood flooring down he took a cheap short cut and lay the hardwood flooring right on top of the under padding for the old carpet and the floor is completely destroyed now and needs to be fully replaced which they can not afford to do.

These days Kate is so thoroughly embarrassed she won’t let anyone in her home.  She rarely opens the curtains and sits in darkness.  Her kids rooms are starting to resemble an episode of hoarders and she won’t let them have any friends over.  She is at them almost daily to take pride in themselves and keep things as clean as possible.  No one listens to her any more.  Enter the nagging house wife syndrome…….

Kate raised her kids to be clean and tidy, gave them proper morals and values and tried to teach them how to manage money.  But they are just plain lazy when it comes to their rooms.

Things have gotten so bad for Kate that she rarely ever gets out of bed.  She only ever leaves her house to pick up a kid when they need it or to get what little food they can afford.  Her and Phil rarely talk to each other any more.  They haven’t been intimate in three years.  They never cuddle.  They sleep in the same bed only because their isn’t a spare room for her to move into.  Phil refuses to move out and Kate can’t afford to.  She’s been stuck in the same rental home for 20 years, in the projects.  She is of the poor working class but now unemployed.  Though she tries to stay up beat and positive when she talks to her friends because they have no idea what-so-ever what she’s been dealing with all these years.

Kate wonders how many women out there stay in unhappy situations out of financial strain and the fear of being alone.  Although at this point she would welcome the being alone part so she wouldn’t have to endure listening to Phil’s constant bitching and complaining every single day when he gets home from work.

Yesterday she cracked a rib and ended up with neck and back strain moving some of that furniture over the past weekend and Phil made her carry ten loads of heavy laundry up three flights of stairs while he sat on his laptop laying poker for four hours.  He had the nerve to say, after she did all that and put it away and watched her collapse on the floor, oh are you okay, why didn’t you ask for help then proceeded to get one more load and drop it at her feet.  All that did was remind her of the day her ex came home and did the same thing only he added a book about breast augmentation, tummy tucks and liposuction to the top of the load as well as a book of wigs so she could change her appearance to suite his fantasies.  Kate learned not to long later that her ex was having an affair with that girl from work.  The decline is imminent isn’t it….

Kate is still contemplating what to do with her life and honestly right this minute I want to tell her to run for her life!

Until next time…….

This has been a fictional tale of a housewife.



Copy Right Protected  by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

The Housewife Diaries #1- Dating Follies and Becoming Independant



This essay and story is a work of fiction.

 Names, places, characters, and actions are the product of the Author’s imagination.  Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or any business establishments or locales are entirely coincidental.

 All rights reserved.

   **No part of this publication may be reproduced by any means: electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded, or otherwise, without the prior written consent from the Author and publisher Gillian Anne Gibson**

wine 10 10 donation

Why is it that the majority of marriages fall apart so quickly in recent years?

One could say that people marry to young, to quickly and for all the wrong reasons.  I think this pretty much sums up the majority of the failures as I think many people have long-lost the art of courting, writing love letters and exchanged it for wanting to jump in to situations of convenience to save money.  By this I mean after meeting someone and dating for a mere few short weeks or months people are quickly moving in together before they’ve actually taken the time to fully know each other.

Remember when dating was fun.  You had a mutual like and admiration for each other. You talked bout everything for endless hours.  Shared your hopes and dreams.  Laughed together, had a real tickle fights, went out for dinner and a movie.  Wow, do people even do these things any more?

Recent years have me observing quite a few things.  I’ve noticed people now meet mostly on the internet in one form or another and although some are purely honest a huge amount have created alter ego’s, even gone as far as to conjure up huge lies about themselves.  Hiding addictions, criminal pasts and also hiding the fact that they are already in committed relationships with spouses and even children and pets.  The big question is why?

When did we all forget how to communicate with each other on an honest level and invest in the relationships we currently live in.  When did talking to one another become a dreaded chore?  When did the attention of some stranger you’ve never met and probably never will for the most part become more important than the one you chose to be with in life.

People seem to socialize better via the internet rather than in person.  That’s a sad fact.  Look around anywhere you are currently.  How many people are actually talking to each other and how many are sitting across from each other, in silence, on their cellphones?

In today’s age married people seem to be some of the loneliest people on the planet.  I’m not saying all married people suffer this way but a very high percentage just seem to be lost altogether.  They’ve become strangers to each other.  Nothing in common, noting to talk about except suck-ass jobs we’re not happy at, bills, money, lack of not having, everything or anything and arguments about how much debt they’re in and how they feel like they’re stuck in a never-ending cycle of bullshit, stress and sadness.

Let’s look at one housewife’s scenario…

Kate and Phil met on-line some seven years ago.  After what Phil thought was a great ongoing romance in his mind and dating which actually resulted in him always going over to her place, which was pretty much every night after work by taxi and getting drunk and having sex with her and passing out.  They went out on two real dates in three months, once for dinner and twice to  local packed noisy taverns.  After four months Phil called Kate at work and said that he wanted to move in with her and her three kids.  Kate kind of freaked out and didn’t answer him right away, instead she froze, couldn’t find her words and when Phil said are you still here or did you hang up on me, Kate, exhaled and said um I need to think about this and get back to you and hung up the phone.  She sat at her desk completely speechless, she wasn’t sure she was ready for this, she was enjoying the freedom of her own place with her kids, the first time since she was seventeen years old she wasn’t held captive by having a man in her home.  It was liberating.  She was taking driving lessons and planning on buying her first little car.

Her first full taste of freedom since her first marriage came to a screeching halt and ended.  Years of mental torment, abuse, mental abuse and sexual abuse at the hands of a man who thought the title of husband give him the right to become a Neanderthal and treat her like a house slave.  Many rights she cried herself to sleep, wondering how she could get away, save both her and her children.  Financially she was stuck , like many women, and didn’t know how to do it on her own.  After being driven to two nervous breakdowns and several thoughts of suicide, she went to her parents.  Now scared to go home at night after work, she stayed with them for a week then finally went home and told the abusive spouse it was over and he needed to move out and so he did.  After nearly a full year on her own, with her children, Kate found herself stable enough to attempt dating again.  So within a couple of weeks of sussing out different potential suitors on an on-line dating site she connected with Phil.  He always managed to make her laugh, he was always happy and positive and cheerful.  So one night he asked if he could come over to her house to meet her in person and watch a movie.  Kate was very nervous, two of her three kids were home, but they weren’t babies and she asked them if they thought it would be a good idea to have him over with them there or wait until they went away to visit their father on the weekend. They both agreed to have him over while they were there for safety reasons, just in case things went sideways and she needed to get him out.

Phil came over around 9 PM that Wednesday night.  They watched a couple of movies and he was very cuddly and affectionate, which eventually later on in the night led to kissing and making out on the couch.  Then she broke her carnal rule of never taking a man to her bed before at least 5-7 dates and getting to know him better first.  But let’s be honest she hadn’t had any in quite a long time and she had talked to Phil for a few weeks before inviting him over and she really knew nothing of the current dating world because she’d previously been married to one man for twenty-three years of her life.  She was nervous, very nervous.  She had given birth to three babies and her body didn’t bounce back like a swim-suite model’s.  She had the famous kangaroo pouch women often get after having children.  Her breasts were no longer perky, though they were considerably larger than ever and held up nicely in a push-up bra and nice top.  But naked, well, they sagged and hung low.  She also had developed stretch marks in quite a few places and all this made her feel very insecure about her body.  Not to mention that the ex had made sure to cut her down to size by calling her fat, a bitch and telling her she was useless.  Though she tried everything to please him.  She bought sexy lingerie, sex toys, lube, massage oils, all at his insistence and all to please his fantasies.  But in the end he’d rather get drunk watch porn and rape her regularly.  I know what you are wondering right now, can you really be raped by someone you are married to.  The answer is Yes!  If you are forcibly taken against your will and held down by any one it is rape.

So now, she was both excited and scared when she and Phil entered the bedroom.  She excused herself to the restroom and changed into a white sheer teddy with black satin ribbon and matching panties and brushed her teeth, applied deodorant, a small amount of perfume in the right places and brushed her hair.  When she came out of the restroom all the lights were off and Phil was buck-naked in the bed.  The first thing he says is what the hell did you put that on for.  This made her feel incredibly stupid and even more nervous.  That should have been her first sign of disaster but instead she gracefully said I thought you would like it.  Phil stated he really didn’t care for that kind of thing because “you’re just gonna take it off anyway” and proceeded to tell her he always sleeps naked and said just take it off.  Being conditioned to do as she was told, she did and climbed into bed.  He was immediately on top of her, little fore-play and penetration.  Half way through he stops suddenly and says, no, I can’t do this, I don’t want yo to think I’m just here for sex and then he just rolled over and went to sleep leaving her laying there completely shocked and confused.  Kate lay there all night staring at the ceiling bewildered and afraid to go to sleep.

The next morning they got up, dressed and went to work as any usual day.  In the hopes things would get better and thinking night one was a nervous disaster for both, Kate continued on with Phil.  They became more and more open and comfortable with each other and their routine went on for full week before any real intercourse took place after that one night and it was well worth the wait.  They had been able to talk about likes and dislikes and they both talked about their previous relationships which were disastrous on both ends.  Kate with her one and Phil with apparently many short-lived one nighters, one weekers and so on.  He only seemed to have two previous serious relationships and wasn’t shy on stating why he thought they went wrong.  Well at least with one of them, the second he just stated she up and left him while he was in jail.  We’ll find out why shortly.

Those weeks turned to months and things were pretty good and they discussed being exclusive to each other and not dating anyone else.  Kate’s kids liked Phil, a lot, he was funny, cuddly, he cooked and helped clean.  Then, one night on the phone he said the words she wasn’t ready for.  He said “I love you” and Kate froze and went silent.  He said, well don’t you love me back, she panicked in fear of hurting his feelings and she said yes, I do.  Phil said let me hear you say it, she did, but it felt empty and forced, saying something she really wasn’t ready for.  But she didn’t want to be alone and she didn’t want to lose him so she just rolled with it.

Now we are back to that phone call at month three and Phil didn’t wait for Kate to  call him back.  Instead, he called her five minutes after she hung up and said hey, what do you mean you need to think about it.  Kate froze again and after a few gasps said, look, this is kind of sudden, you really caught me off-guard with that and I’m at work.  It’s not really a good time to talk about this right now.  I need to talk to my kids about all this and see how they feel about this.  They do come first and if I have to choose between you and them I promise you, you will lose.  They will always come first.  Phil said, look, I’m at your place every night, spending twenty bucks a pop one way for a cab and another twenty in the morning to go back home again.  It just seems senseless to be paying rent for a place I’m never in and I can help you pay your rent and bills there.  You’re a woman, I figured you’d jump all over this idea.  (WHOA! did y’all just do a head snap and a hand up too?!)  Kate explained how she’d been tied down since the age of seventeen and she really needed to think about this as it was a major change.  The “I love yous” were exchanged and she hung up the phone.  Now, naturally, her co-workers heard the conversation, being in such close working quarters, and they jumped in with their two cents worth.

“Girl, are you crazy, he’s good to you, he has a full-time job and he loves your kids.  What woman in her right mind would turn that away, go for it.  blah, blah, blah.”

That night Kate went home and talked to her kids, who agreed, yes, he should move in.  The oldest one stating, how bad could it be, at least you will find out his bad habits and you’ll never have to worry about where he is.  So on the first of May Phil brought all his furniture & belongings and the move-in happened.

It was about two weeks later that things got sketchy.  Phil was drinking excessively.   Way more than just a couple after work as he had told her that’s what he did in prior conversations because Kate had fully explained that in her prior marriage she was married to a full-fledged alcoholic and had no intentions of ever going through that again under any circumstances.  She had actually wanted to be with someone who didn’t drink at all but accepted that an occasional drink was all right.  But every night when Phil got home from work he had a case of beer with him and even in the mornings when he woke the first thing he would do was grab a beer out of the bar fridge he put in their bedroom and lit a cigarette.

Prior to Phil moving in Kate smoked but never in the house because of the kids.  Now they were both smoking in he bedroom.  Signs number two and three right there.  By June things were getting way out of hand, Phil was drinking day and night.  Some times he was so drunk he wouldn’t go to work.  He was spending all of his money on beer and Kate was paying for everything on her own.  He even started asking her to pick up his beer on her way home from work and paying for it as well.  Then Kate found out from Phil’s boss that he was drinking on the job as well.  Coming home drunk on the days he did go to work and immediately passing out, leaving her to handle everything after her own long day of work and near two hours of travel in rush hour traffic to get home.  She also found out he had lost his license for drunk driving and done jail time for getting repeatedly caught driving without a valid drivers license as his had been suspended for years, sixteen years to be precise.  The entirety of their relationship he had told her he never had a driver’s license because he never felt he needed one.  She always found this strange for a man in his thirties not to have ever had a driver’s license.  But then again she hadn’t until now either, though it was because her abusive ex-husband would not allow her to get one, keeping her fully reliant on him and that way he always knew where she was going.  On top of all this he had only been out of jail for a few months before meeting her.  This scared the hell out of her and now, here, she found herself stuck in torment and hell all over again.

Then sex started getting rough and one night he held her down with his forearm and anally raped her, tearing her and making her bleed, pushing her face into the mattress to muffle her screams and making it hard for her to breathe to the point where she almost lost consciousness.  She was crying and screaming no, please stop and he just kept saying wait I’m almost done.  When he was done he said ” I love  you”, rolled over and passed out.  She’d live this life before with her ex many, many times.  That night she hid, locked in the bathroom all night, terrified he was going to wake up and do it again.  She was in so much pain, bleeding and crying.  The next morning she confronted Phil about what he had done and you know, he claimed he remembered nothing at all about that night but he did apologize to her.  She said I can’t and won’t live like this I think you need to go but he promised her he would stop the drinking and it would never happen again.  She gave him the chance to make it right.  A chance he never should have had.  You see, this is what happens when a woman has faced 23 years in an abusive relationship.  She’s already lost her self-respect and lives in fear every day.  She always forgives the abuse because she has been conditioned to think it is always her fault it happened some how.

Though he wasn’t drinking in front of her and the kids, she found out that he was still drinking on the job and she caught him one night walking down the street with not one but two cases of beer and hiding them at a neighbour’s place, in their garage, 5 doors up.  He obviously wasn’t expecting her to be outside when he got home and she just happened to be walking back from the mailbox.  By the time he dropped the cases and made it to the front door where she was standing with her oldest daughter Kate was all fists and fury and she beat the living shit out of him all the way up the stairs, knocking his drunk-ass down face first with her daughter screaming for her to stop and pulling her off him.

During this time Kate had filed for divorce with the Family Court and her ex was pissed about it  when he found out that not only had she filed but had a new relationship and was moving forward with her life without him.   She also had filed for Child Support with the Family Court as her ex felt he should only have to pay $150.00 a month in child support for three children.  Kate lived in the projects and because she worked a full-time job could not qualify for subsidized rent, where the government gives you a percentage discount to be able to afford living on your own without the help of Welfare.  Kate did not qualify because she made exactly $200.00 to much for the qualification.  So she was left supporting her family on  less than $832.00 every two weeks once taxes came off.  Her rent was 975.00 a month, Hydro 150.00 a month, Gas 100.00 a month, cable/internet 150.00 a month and her car payment was 271.09 every two weeks, Car insurance 286.00 a month, without her car she had no way to get to work which was 45 minutes away to the west.  Then she needed to gas up her car every week at about 45.00 a week, pay the sitter 150.00 a week for her kids before and after school care and buy food about 150.00 a week, clothing and school supplies etc as needed.

Let’s do the math shall we…..

Income 832.00 x 2 = 1664.00 + 150.00 child support + 600.00 her son chipped in to help = $2,414.00 for a month.

Monthly bills….975.00 + 150.00 + 100.00 + 150.00 + 271.09 + 286.00 + 180.00 + 600.00 + 600.00 = $3,312.09

Short each month by 898.00.  then her son moved out and the 600.00 monthly contribution he chipped in was gone leaving her short by $1,498.00.  So she had to teach her kids to look after themselves and drop the daycare from her bills saving 600.00 in expenses.  Still leaving her short 898.00 a month.  To which Phil was to be helping out with but was not because he was drinking his money away.


During one of his asinine drunken stupors he got stupid with her youngest daughter and had stomped on her foot so hard the child started crying and when she went to her father’s that weekend she told her father that Phil drank too much and hurt her and that they no longer went to the child care lady and had to look after themselves before and after school for 2 hours until Kate got home from work.  So the ex, who was living with his parents for free and making $75,000.00 a year, called Child Protective Services and they called Kate and said they needed to pay a visit to her home because they had received an anonymous call that the children were being abused and were not in a safe living environment.  Kate freaked out, told Phil he had to move out.  He promised once again that he would stop drinking and he painted the entire house and everything was perfect for the arrival of CPS.

CPS came and left happy.  Kate let them know that she knew who made the anonymous call to them and why.

“The day you received a call was the day I went to Family Court an Filed for Divorce and Child Support and you got that call from my ex-husband because of those very reasons and the fact that he found out I am in a new relationship.  Does Phil drink, yes he does, does he pose a threat to my children, no he doesn’t, he got over zealous one day and stomped on my daughter’s foot when they were horsing around and yes, it hurt her.”

The spoke to Kate in private and in front of the kids and then they spoke to the kids together and separately and left satisfied.  Phil was at work the day they came so they asked for him to go to their office for a meeting he want there two days later and Kate received a call on the Friday of that week, CPS stated that they did not feel the children where in any danger and that they were well cared for and that her ex and his parents would be getting a warning that should they ever try to use their services as a battling weapon in a Family Court Case again they would be charged.  Case Closed.

By August Phil was back to his old ways again and  Kate couldn’t take any more and after throwing forty-eight empty beer cans at Phil she told him to get the hell out or go to rehab.  She wasn’t living this life all over again.  She’d just spent the past 23 years with the same things plus emotional and physical abuse and she wasn’t about to do it again.  Again, she felt the need to give him a chance to repair the damage and fix himself.  He took that chance and this time did not let her down.

The next morning Phil packed a bag and had his boss take him and check him into a 4-day hard detox and therapy center, and completely dried out.  That was the last time he ever drank.

This is the end of Part I

Until next time.  Don’t lose hope……



Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

Quintessential Truth #26 – Beyond the Veil




Awaken, that which was once thought dead.

Full of ridges and valleys, like a spent bullet.

Yet, awaiting discovery, like an ancient buried treasure.

Full of wonder, yet mysterious,

delicate yet firm.

Stripped down and not quite bare.

Unlimited, thoughts turned into dreams.

Patterns scattered like twisted streams.

A beautiful dream,

another world,

in all, a very simple girl.

A bird without wings,

a song with no voice,

yet, she flies while carrying a tune.

The weight of the world resting on her shoulders.

Beyond the invisible veil, invisible to the world, she was drowning.

Yet, not a soul saw her struggle to pull herself out of the quicksand.

head down and wandering past all.

She drifted,

why does she feel so alone?

Isolated and lacking,

disconnected, yet people are all around.

Alone, yet in the presence of others.

7-Cups of how it works and a dishwasher filled with mugs.

The introverted and depressed are facing their own bloody war.  It doesn’t matter what side your on.  The merry-go-round still keeps turning, round and round.  

Rejected and overlooked, thoughts of self-worth cause the wreckage.  Our worst enemy is being in the company of ourselves sometimes.  The isolated space, a perfect breeding ground for self-critical thoughts.  An internalized enemy the inner-critic.

Behind the invisible veil a raging war of survival goes on.  Fight the internal voice of the enemy.

Tolerate it not.

Refuse it entry, you are not awkward or creepy.

Challenge yourself, don’t give up.

Sure, there will always be uncomfortable situations that will lead to uneasy feelings.

When you challenge your inner voices, you become stronger and when persistent enough in countering those self-critical attacks the veil lifts, melancholy dissipates, and you then live free.

Free from self-sabotage, and free from isolation.  Society can breed a lot of loneliness but confidence can set you free.  One of the best actions we can take to stop the feelings of hopelessness is to think outside of our internal voice.  Believe in ourselves.  Know that we do have something to offer the world and remind ourselves that we are not alone at any given moment in time, not really.

And, please remember; Bite, chew, swallow and repeat has no place here.

This was a short Quintessential Truth for today.

Until next time…… 


Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

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End Game: A Verse-style story


The pictures,


no-one misses her more than me

The profile,

created in immeasurable taste

hidden treasures,

mine to keep.

They frantically search for the missing;

my barbituate haze,

tangled maze of clues left behind,

taunts to the authoritative ones,

it’s a love affair you know,

the stalker, the hunter, the evil that dwells within;

the victim, the hunted, the innocent that have no idea.

I left a picture in his mailbox, showing her beauty.

I gave him only one day to find her

before me,

before she and I would have our dance.

Play time

have you seen her before,

do you recognize her?

She walks alone, unsuspecting,

all she’ll remember is I made her smile, once,

made her feel beautiful.

She’s so unaware of what I really am,

a monster in the darkness,

a nightmare waiting to be born of her fears.

The lock clicks

the door shuts

my slow breath in the darkness,

I’m watching her

she has no idea I’m there

she talks to her cat,

hangs up her coat,

heads for the shower in a candle-lit room.

Night-goggles, the perfect tool for observation in concealment

time to strike

from behind, I grab her in a choke-hold

she tries to fight….


I’m much stronger and more prepared

the thrill, the dance, the kill.

I leave her there, on her living room floor,

they’ll find her, but I’ll be long gone.

I don’t know what is more tantalizing,

me hunting them

or me watching the others hunt me,

cat and mouse,

cloak and dagger


the chase is on

catch me if you can

shots fired

I escape….again.



He haunts my nightmares,

screams my name,

sends clues of each one.

If I came face-to-face with him in the street, would I know?

He’s watched me, 

followed me.

taunted me.

I don’t sleep,

he knows.

I danced with the homicidal freak once before,

it broke me

I ran,

he found me

did he miss me?

This section of town,

this side-walk,

he sees me

and I still can’t see him.

He sends pictures to remind me,

the chase is not over.

He chasing them,

me chasing him,

him watching me, trying to chase him.

It’s only a matter of time

I will catch him,

but how much more damage gets done,

before his demise,

before his downfall,

before his end game.


Skull rose tattoo design by NeoGzus.deviantart.com on @DeviantArt

Skull rose tattoo design by      NeoGzus.deviantart.com on     @DeviantArt


Clue after clue,

I send him,

if he weren’t so emotionally messed up after that first one,

he may have very well caught me by now.

Maybe he would have caught me,

had he not been so close to her.

Maybe I chose the first one a little to close to home for him.

He visits her grave often,

I watch him talking to her

cries of sorry,

tears of pain.

He’s slowly losing his willingness to keep going.

I can not allow him the fortune of giving up.

It would be an atrocity without him,

this is my game,

it will play out my way.

This next one is slightly different,

I found her,


in an alley,

she had a small fire going to keep warm,

a transistor radio for music to calm the static of the city night.

She spotted me coming out from behind the large dumpster,

she’s not afraid,

or is she?


footsteps hit the pavement in rapid flight,

the chase is on,

rain hits the pavement,

this one is a fighter.

The alleyway leads to an abandoned warehouse,

stairs, concrete, darkness,

but she’s forgotten,

footsteps echo in the hollows.

I grab her,

she struggles,

I am much stronger,

as I squeeze deeper into her throat

she coughs, gasps and gargles,

until, all at once,

she ceases.

When I let go she drops…




rapid, coming towards me


no time to think,

I bolt,

he’s on my heels,

minutes feel like hours,

I’m tiring….

Rain pours from the sky like a broken water main,

my eyes dark, cold, searching for escape,

I’m cornered,

he finds me,


He comes at me worse than any man scorned,

the devil is in his eyes,

rage in his heart,

this time, he won’t let me out of this sights.



The clues piled up

now, they are fitting together,

blinded before, I know see,

he’s not going to stop,

it  has to be me,

I must stop him,

at what cost?

The press conferences,

the profile delivered,

the public aware,

 a city frightened to its core.

No one sleeps,

no one is safe,

I’m not safe,

clue after clue,

I put the pieces together,

suppressed memories coming back

filling my head

the clues he left

making more sense.

I track him down,

but I’m to late,

he’s killed another,

left her laying at his feet.

He’s got the nerve to stay and say hello to me this time.

He runs,

I chase,



There’s no-where for him to run,

he’s stopped running.

I want to kill him now,

but something stops me,

I need to know, why…

Why the games,

the taunting,

the teasing…

“Stop trying to control the situation, you can’t, this is my game”

“What do you need?”

I need, you”


For a long time, I was the only one you had”

“You were like my brother”

“How so?”

” All our time was together”

“No!, your time was killing, my time was trying to find you”

But you were always there, I counted on you to be there, after each one”

“Why me?”

You took her from me, so I, took her from you”.

He got his answer.

Now he would have his justice.

He crouched down, grabbed the serrated blade from its strong-hold in his ankle sheath and with one, strong, determined swipe, he slit the throat of his opponent and watched him drop like a stone.

Serial killer ended

Cop triumphant.

As he looked at the dead man he uttered one last line…..

“You were just my job, paperwork, you’ve met your end game and I’ve only just begun.”



Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
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I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

Angel in the Rain


Out for my every day walk

not sure where I’m going today

so, I wander….

And, here I am

at my favourite coffee shop

somewhat damp from the rain.

I love the rain

most people don’t,

they don’t see its simplicity,

the calm it can bring,

if you just listen to it as it lands on the pavement or licks the windowpane.

I order my coffee as I daydream,

my mind wandering ocean tides.

I sit at my usual table by the window in the corner.

He walks in

I’ve seen him before, but where?

The day is dull and grey

but I’m restless

I need to get out, but where?

I throw on my favourite leather jacket

and head outside, into the rain,

my head is clouded, full of static,

something lingers, but what?

Suddenly, I’m at the coffee shop

it shouldn’t surprise me,

I’m there every day for a cup of the finest in town.

Normally, I just grab it and run

not today.

She’s sitting in the corner, again

I feel compelled to stay,

her beauty captures me in a way no-one else ever has.

I sit on the other side and peer through my hair covered eyes,

I can’t help myself,

she’s so picturesk.

He’s sat himself down on the opposite corner from me

he makes me nervous, but not in a frightening way

he makes me curious

his facial features are so alluring to me,

they cause a pull from deep within me,

I still can’t place where I’ve seen him before

but I know I have.

I sneak long glances at him through my long hair

there’s something about him.

She’s looking at the window rather than out it,

what does she see?

the rain drops, 

they are dancing on the glass,

she traces them with her finger and smiles slightly,

what is she thinking about?

There’s a beautiful but sad longing behind her eyes

I can only see them slightly

as she tilts her head

what is it

what is she thinking about?

I’ve caught him looking at me a couple of times

he has this longing inquisitive air bout him

I wonder what’s going through his mind,

is it me he sees

or someone outside 

on the other side of the window?

He’s leaning his head on his knuckles 

like he’s deep in thought,

tracing his fingertip around the rim of his cup

he takes out his phone and scrolls gently.

If she only knew, he thought to himself

scrolling through all the images of the pictures he’s taken

of her, over the past few months

he wasn’t a stalker

nor was he anything vile

he was simply emotionally scared

and terribly shy.

He spent so many nights alone

just sitting in the dark, 

glaring at the ceiling, wishing, hoping,

for her.

He’d had an exceptionally busy life 

until recently

he’d realized that bouncing from place to place

and having a crazy mad work schedule

just didn’t have its appeal any more.

At one time it was like a drug to a junkie

but now,

all the different women and places in the world 

couldn’t satisfy what he lingered for

only she could.

If he only knew

how beautiful his features were to her

and then suddenly, she remembered 

where she’d seen him before,

the train station,

they’d brushed past each other

and their hands touched for a moment

their eyes had locked for just a second

but she had felt something poetic stir inside her,

a feeling she would never forget.

Then she remembered the airport,

crazy, busy, noise-filled chaos on a hot summer day,

they’d reached for the same bag in the carousel in arrivals

they’re hands touched again,

she remembered his gentleness and his apology

so sincere

and soft.

All the chance encounters since

what was the universe trying to tell her?

She softly bit her lower lip as she stared out the window

only seeing those memories

of chance encounters,

she smiled.

As he put his phone away and finished the last of his coffee

he drank in the detailed features of her face

he longed to run his thumb along her jaw-line and taste her beautiful lips

run his hands through her long black hair 

and glide his nose over her cheekbone 

until they were locked in the deepest of embraces.

But, he was afraid,

in the end 

all the others

found him difficult to be with,

his crazy schedule

the constant screams, 

pushing, grabbing, shoving

everyone pulling him from all directions

causing him to lose tiny pieces of himself along the way.

He’d become so withdrawn 

he’d stopped responding to his friends,

his family

and everyone in between.

In his darkness

he felt empty,

except when he thought about her.

One last longing, loving glance to etch her beautiful face on his mind,

he rose up from his seat

and their eyes locked, 

he froze.

He was getting up to leave

she noticed,

she locked eyes with him,

but this time she didn’t shy away like she usually did,

this time she smiled at him,

he froze.

She panicked

but she couldn’t turn away,

save me, she said to herself,

in a voice no-one could hear.

Her heart raced,

she bit her lower lip again

she rose from her chair

they both just stood there

drinking each other in

wishing, hoping.

Oh god!

what do I do?

he panicked,

but he couldn’t move,

couldn’t breathe,

couldn’t look away.

She was just like an angel

in a rain-filled sky

all the inner turmoil he’d been hanging on to lately 

suddenly vanished

all he could see, 

was her,  he tried to move,

suddenly his legs gave out and everything turned black.

Her insides sent off like fireworks

Oh god, what do I do?

All the small things that had trapped her emotionally

started to disappear

Okay girl, this is it,

time to take a chance,

She took one step forward

and he shuddered and dropped to the ground.


She ran to him

dropped to her knees

and cradled his head in her lap

stroked his face

please be okay, she whispered in his ear

tears streamed down her face.

He blinked,

everything was fuzzy,

there were all sorts of faces

looking at him, gasping

and then he felt someone cradle his head,

her hand was warm and shaking

she whispered in his ear

“please be okay”

he focused,

he knew,

her voice was as angelic as her features,

he could breathe again.

Hi, she said

Hi, he replied

glad you stayed, she said

I’m glad too, he said.

She hugged him

his heart melted.

As he wiped the tears from her eyes he realized something

this is what he was missing

a connection 

not forced by others

or by restless attempts of not wanting to be alone

but one of natural happen-stance.


right before each other,

in an awkward moment of double panic,

did a man drop 

only to be caught by the angel of his dreams.

The sky didn’t fall

instead it opened up

the way all dreams of a happy ever after are supposed to.

Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they're born~F.Scott Fitzgerald

Two souls are sometimes created together and in love before they’re born~F.Scott Fitzgerald


Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults


**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
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I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**


Quintessential Truth #25 – Hark or Deduce


New Order – Blue Monday >> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9Bul0dJVfFQ

I’ve always fancied myself to be a good listener but it doesn’t always mean that what I’m listening to is easy to hear.  At times we all have heard some simple truths we’ve not looked forward to hearing.


We like to live in a short stay of denial here and there.  having someone point out the obvious can feel like a gut-punch sometimes especially when said denials are held up in neon signs when we are comfy sitting in our dark little cubby-holes in the cover of our solitary confines.

Oh, we’ll continue to try to deny things or fluff up our rooster-chests and try to brush it off.  Mostly because we won’t always admit to our down times, our feeling lost times or our oops, I did it again times.  It’s hard to admit to some things, especially to our friends, those closest to us and ourselves.  I still haven’t sussed out why.  Sometimes it’s because of guilt, embarrassment or denial and other times its’ because we don’t want to be judged by another or because talking about said times makes it a little bit to real.

From early ages we become good at creating alternate realities to help take us away from stressful situations and as we grow older we become great at dodging the cold hard facts of our own situation of dread by curtailing them into matter-of-fact quick skate-byes and do-overs.

There are some who can talk through the entirety of their situations and there are others who play dodge ball with what is transpiring.  By playing dodge ball I mean when we point out the “I know you to well to buy the act you’re putting on right now” to be something else, our friends/family jump up and say “Nah-ah, you’re wrong, I’m fine, really” move on us.   We see right through it and we call bullshit.

First:     They came to you with a problem and you said how can I help, what do you need from me?


Second:     The script flipped and in a micro-second they’re all “No, I’m fine, really”  They try to explain that they just had a momentary lapse of self-control you mistook for weakness and suddenly their fetal-position was temporary.  But the cry already became unleashed and now more than just you became aware.

The main point is at least they reached this time.  Times before saw them suffer alone and it only took longer to come back from it.  You see, they were looking for confirmation they were missed and that they mattered to more than just one person.  To some, numbers matter a little too much.  It’s a compulsion they can’t seem to part from.  Point that out and eventually they will admit it, some-what gracefully, with a little giggle.  Especially if you tug on their hair tight enough.  They will yell okay, you win, I admit it.  They feed from continuous praise and hand shakes.  they need the pat on the back to keep them going and for them that’s okay and we oblige continuously to keep the beast from chewing them up and digesting them altogether for this is what we do.


I had a friend say to me once that they found it strange how being on social media can make one feel more alienated and that one sometimes has to find a way to get perspective back.  Some of us have come to learn ow to grab the lifeline and not slacken that grip.  This helps us gain back our smile, you know the one that we left on the left side of anguish.  We do this and we wind up finding our balance again.

Instead of feeling the despondent vibe, we collectively feel wanted and appreciated.  We get back on track so to speak.  At least until the next road block, we can find a way to travel and avoid all potholes so not to ruin the drive-shaft in our travels.  It takes a village to move the footpath up the right side of the mountain and when one realizes they don’t have to weather the storm on their own, that it’s okay to break sometimes, they also realize that it’s okay to let the wound bleed a little first before applying the antiseptic and bandage to enhance the healing.

Being about one thing is fine for some but being about many things is a better way to give adventure and self-discovery not only for you but for many others.  Curling up into your own little cocoon is fine for a moment.  At least until the dust-storm settles.  but when the rain comes be ready to break out of it and dance through that storm.  It’s only temporary and it will pass.  The winds of change swirl around us constantly and we’d better ourselves to learn how to manuever through them than to lay down in the ditch and pray for it to stop.


There will be those who feed of the misery of another.  I call these festering nats the rowdy scavengers of misery as they will feed like a tick on that pain and grab the salt to rub into the wounds, then sit in the corner snickering at the downtrodden’s screams of agony.  Whispering in their little scavenger troop about watching another one fall by the way-side and spit their venom to any and all willing participants.  These rowdy scavengers are dirt on your shoulder, brush them off with one quick sweep.  Their cotton-mouths grow foul and fester a poisonous gas that eventually dissipates as others run away from it.  There’ll be no tailgate parties for this lot.


The bent ears brigade, now these folk, they are good folk.  You can bend their ears six ways from Sunday and they will always stay constants in your life.  They are seasoned with life events and have become one with change.  They won’t hold anything back either.  They will tell it like it is.  There’s no sugar-coating things with this lot.  They air out their surroundings often and don’t try to hide things with 400 air fresheners from the local gas station.  They’ve seen more of their share of fast-balls thrown in their general direction and they’ve travelled twelve thousand miles into the middle of nowhere to meet the colour of their own entrails only to wash them in mother nature’s natural springs and reincert them back into their original body cavity comfortably.  They will sit on the edge of sanity with you and play roshambull until the next sunrise just to make sure you get it all out of your system.  This is dedication in it’s best form.  These are the folks you tuck into your pocket for your travels.  They remind you that you matter.  They are your daily dose of reality and your true support system.

So when you have on our goloshes and you are knee-deep at the river’s edge, cast your rod and see what nature puts on your hook, reel it in and you decide whether it’s a keeper or if it needs the catch and release method applied to it.  Remember on this farm of life, you are the farmer, plant your seeds and watch them grow and please, check on the barn often because the cows aren’t going to milk themselves, now, are they?

Take pride in who you are.  The fault in our stars is only visible to one who holds the magic telescope to our inner soul and with that magic comes a galaxy beyond anything we ever would’ve imagined.

This has been your 25th Quintessential Truth.

Until next time…….

Whimsical Heart Art

Whimsical Heart Art


Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
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I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

Quintessential Truth #25 – Is Anyone Out There?


My friend, Carl, used to be a girth of presence in the world, but lately he has withered from existence, wondering, is anyone out there, does anyone care?

Once so full of hope and life that he danced upon rooftops and sang in the rain.  Current times have found him questioning his very existence and caused him to turn in on himself.  Now, curled up in the fetal-position, he cries himself to sleep at night and he’s forgotten why he stepped out into the public eye in the first place.  You see, he’s lost himself, deep inside his own mind.  Where he once thrived, full of love and positivity, he’s found himself doubting his own ability to bring joy to others.

Self discovery is a painful journey at times and yet we are continuously evolving.  We all need to remember one thing, we don’t need mass approval to be someone who is accomplished.  When the dark horse rides, we only ever need to reach but one single soul to matter.   You’ve all heard the term “if you build it, they will come” right?

If you fully believe in yourself others will, in turn, believe in you.  We may all become lost sometimes but there are always a small few that are constants and will pull us out of our darkness and guide us toward the light so that we may thrive once again.  If we allow ourselves to become consumed in the darkness, we lose a piece of ourselves we may never get back.

Carl reached for me today, asking that I not give up on him.  Knowing that deep down, I never would.  This was his cry for help and reassurance that he is not one of the lost.  I reminded him that he just stopped believing in himself for a minute.  If you believe, others will believe.  You’re not lost, you need to dig deep and pour out your heart before you start to heal.  Guilt consumes all.  You start feeling sorry for yourself and you start making assumptions about things that just aren’t there.

Some worry about this numbers thing, how popular one is by the amount of people who give you a shout out or share your stuff.  But it’s not about that, who cares how many hits you got on your site or how many shares there were.  If you are proud of your work then it matters.  Stop, take a moment, remember why you got into this to begin with.  You had a passion inside you that you needed to share.  Not because you wanted popularity.  That just came over time, but it’s not the be-all of your existence.  Keep moving forward. Keep creating.  Keep taking chances.  Don’t search for popularity in numbers; instead, search for quality in what you deliver.  Popularity isn’t everything, it’s a mere reason in a sea of factors.  Touch just one soul, you may be saving a life.  You may have already saved a life.  Don’t become lost somewhere in the innocence of who you really are.  Don’t think about where you could have gone wrong.  You are the soul in charge of your own destiny.  You matter!

The right people care when you need them to.  They are in it with you through the thick and the thin.  They will be your rock when you are mush and will stretch out a hand for you to hold onto.  They will be your oxygen when the weight of the world is weighing heavy on your chest.  Breathe life into your lungs when you feel breathless.

Is anyone out there?

Do you hear me?

Do you feel me?

I’m right there, beside you, holding your hand, telling you it’s going to be all right.  It’s just a bump in the road, a cry in the night.  We all get lost sometimes.  Just remember we aren’t a broken record on repeat, there’s a B-side you have forgotten about.  We’re a long way from perfect, the road is far to long and it was built with bumps, potholes and curves.  We don’t know exactly where it will take us but we travel it non-the-less.  We’ll be what we want to be.  We’ll be the change we want to see.  But we won’t change until we try.  It’s never to late and we’re never too far gone.

It’s a road-trip and we’re all on the bus……

Until next time this has been your Quintessential Truth.


Whimsical Heart Art Mixed Media Art Folk by JCSpockWhimsicalArt



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Evil and innocence

not what it seems

tears at your mind

frightens you in dreams

heart-stopping fear

comes out in your screams 

awake or asleep

an end to all means.


Twisted and tortured

he won’t let you out

the cries of your pains

will leave you in doubt.

You thought he was one 

but he’s actually another

murderous intent

revenge for his brother.

Psychosis by @joernzimmermann

Psychosis by @joernzimmermann

Chased into an ally

deep in the night

your brain couldn’t take it

lost your will for the fight.

Frailty, it seems

will be your undoing

you saw it all happen

no time for reviewing.

All is not what it seemed when it started

a flip of the script 

from the dearly departed.


The gun went off

he lay dead on the floor

you panic and run

straight for the door.

Before you escape

you run into the cop

he was sitting outside

setting up shop.

Under arrest is where you are now

may as well confess

and get through it some how.


The crime scene was clear

it was him from the start

he set you up

when you blackened his heart.

Now there you sit

framed for this crime

he arranged his own death

and dropped on your dime.

Next time be careful

don’t mess about

don’t rip him off

and you’ll eventually get out.



Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

24 Hours


Josephine Wall Fantasy Art

Josephine Wall Fantasy Art

Footsteps between hollowed buildings

blanketed windows

locked doors

rain, falls against the window pane.

Rocketed clatter in the underground

the train halts

clacking heels on the concrete.

Streets above with polluted noise

static in my ears

my brain screams

let me out.

The elevator is empty

the iron and steel grind

sturdy metal beams

the crucial element to get me home.

The door to my apartment

to allow access

to block others out

inside my space.

My apartment 6B

arranged to suite my needs

designed to grant me comfort

I am home.





all inside

24 hours.



Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
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Unfold Me



many creases, many folds

a tiny package

all but lost

a heart

in need of comfort

warmth resides within me


inside me burns like embers reignited

from a dying fire

relit, a spark of life

unfold me


one crease at a time

smooth me out from dread

take my hands

feel that pulse in both my wrists

my blood still flows

and with each ironed out fold

the creases dissipate

the sadness fades

bring me back to life again

unfold me.




Copy Right Protected  by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
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There we sat

at the end of the world

survival a near impossible task

When our eyes met

all night we wept

as we stared at the darkest of skies.

Just strangers were we

before it all happened

yet, here we are consoling our cries

all wrapped up tight 

inside this old house

watching the world fade away as it dies.

The lights are all gone

there’s no other people around

no-one else will hear our last breaths

or see the colour fade from our eyes

as we become one with our deaths.



Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2016.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
All images are found using Google Image Search and are not always labelled
I hold no ownership to any image used unless otherwise stated**

مات في المغرب / Matt in the Maghrib

Two years with Peace Corps Morocco

Layden Robinson



Welcome to the flock. I am the Queen of the Ravens. Fly with me. I have so much to show you. Here you can soar above the clouds or plundge into complete darkness. Fly carefully now. You never know what is lurking over the next horizon.

Use Your Words

Words Imitates Art

Kevin Dajee

Chartered Psychologist, AFBPsS | Guidance Manager | Teacher | Writer | Researcher | Husband | Father | Fan of Horror, SciFi & Comics | Full-time Raconteur

Closer Look Into My Mind

Catch A Glimpse !

Patrick W. Marsh Author Page

monsters, monsters, everywhere

Writings By Ender

A Collection of Articles, Poems and Short Stories


Give Your Book a Bump


Thoughts Exploding In My Head

This Mortal Flesh

"So tear me open but beware...there's things inside without a care..." ~Metallica


A Tale of Escalating Horror

Jesse Dwight

Official Website

Loud Green Bird

The Bird is the Word

The Daily Post

The Art and Craft of Blogging


Writing and Art of Cheri Celeste Pennell

Heartstring Eulogies

Conjured by Sarah Doughty

Grueheads Asylum

Welcome to the Grueheads Asylum. Here we share the work of our Grueheads Family. Through Articles, Poetry, Introspective pieces and Short Fictional Stories as well as Challenge Pieces you will engage in a variety of styles, artwork and creations all to be shared with anyone who desires to be set free through the end of their quills. Relax, enjoy and interact with a family of like-minded individuals as we share the art of words with you. Thank you for visiting and please share with your friends.


activists, reading, writing, animal lover, art lover, wife, mom, Grandmother, Love #TWD #Slayer #GrueHead


Welcome to my page. My name is Christy Evans and this is where I will Try and dabble in the art of prose, poetry, and possible short stories. sit back relax and I hope you enjoy.

The Baked Scribe

The words and worlds of author Chad A. Clark

peacham21's Blog

This WordPress.com site is the cat’s pajamas

Nerd Nation Magazine

weekly news, reviews, interviews, convention reports, and more - by nerds, for nerds!

Bloody Rose

Anything I feel like sharing...


A touch of Real Life, A Dash of FanFic, And a smidge of Original Fic


#RoG #GrueHead #Horror#Haunting poetry

Untold Stories

4 out of 5 dentists recommend this WordPress.com site

Crash Palace Productions

Fear Is in the Mind

Michael Frost's Frostbitten Blog

I wouldn't look under the bed if I were you.

Frisco Kid at the Movies

Film, Video, and the Art of Moving Pictures

Movies, Films & Flix

Pretentiousness is our forte. Awesomeness is our goal.

[Matt Farnsworth]

Madness is in the eye of the beholder

Stigmatophilia's gore splattered corner of insanity.

Horror, Gore, Exploitation, Trash, Cult Movies; Reviews, Interviews, Music and More...

freaky folk tales

A haunting we will go...

Don Charisma

because anything is possible with Charisma

Michael Rey - Country Songwriter

Writes Country songs for Major and Indepedent Artists, TV, Movies & Film

The Art of Neurosis

This WordPress.com site just plain insane

Juan Moralәs

Music, my life.


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