Truth

Instagram > Reality

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I was stupid-ish for thinking I’d be okay post-procedure. Pain that is complex, high fevers, stomach related issues, and where did all these bruises come from? Is life even worth it? I often ask myself this question. I struggle every second of every day to survive in tact. This is NOT the life I signed up for. 😔

How many people will read that and think the polar opposite of what I mean? Don’t think at all; yes, I’m serious. Just listen.

In the past dozen or so years, I’ve been through hell and back. I have the scars (physical, mental, and emotional) and ashes to prove it. I don’t sugarcoat pain, regardless of the form. I’m extremely transparent about it. Mostly because, pretty words don’t make liars any less ugly. Ten people will be analyzing that statement to death; the texts and email accusations will start ten minutes after this is posted. 😒

I’ve questioned everything my entire life. Not important moments or decisions, but the difficult “in between” phases that many women pretend do not exist. Maybe for them, they don’t. 🤷Denial is a coping mechanism for many, but so is alcohol. Who knows, really. We are all different, and for good reason.

I don’t take drugs. I rarely drink. I’m not boring, but I’m also not typical. The things that matter to me don’t matter to 95% of the people I know, and G-d Bless them for being so uninitiated. 🙄 Every person who has preached how enlightened they are is living in such a state of bullshit, it’s not even funny. Why can’t you admit you DON’T have your shit together and that life is not a fairytale? Why is everyone SO committed to “Instagram > Reality”? I’ll never be able to fathom this particular thought process.

A friend of mine recently confessed to “taking a break from social media”. She truly believes that everyone else is “living their best life” and she’s stuck, suffering. I broke it down and explained it to her from an extremely honest perspective. If you’ve got to brag about it via social media; it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.

I know people who’ve been married 3-4 times since I first became friends with them. I’ve been best friends with each of my best friends longer than all of those marriages combined, yet people are desperate to post photos on a  constant basis.

How many engagement rings do you need to show the world? How many wedding cakes and wedding dresses do you REALLY need to see from the same person in 5-10 years? No, I am not “asking for a friend”, I’m just being honest.

I encourage people to live their lives OFF of social media. I, myself, question whether or not to share a thought, photos, happy moments, positive things, etc. Nine times out of ten, I send the photos to my best friend, we talk about the happy moments (and the bad. We don’t bullshit each other. I talk to her almost daily. My other best friend is going through a LOT at the moment, and I feel like the best thing to do is let her know she’s ALWAYS got my support, no matter what, but I also know she needs to be able to focus. I’ve been there and have lived it, so I take nothing away from her. She didn’t stop being my best friend.), and I don’t publicly share any of those things.

The other day, a lady asked if I’d take a photo of her with her grandson. I was only too happy to oblige. She immediately confessed, “I’m not allowed to show his face.” I said, “There are apps that allow you to have a great photo, and still protect him while he’s so young.” She kept trying to cover his face with her hair, but, like most babies, he was obsessed with me (Have I written about this before?) and wasn’t interested in her hair until the end. She got about five or six great photos for herself and others for social media purposes, but honestly, I’m all for protecting a baby. 👍

Someone stated almost a year ago that I am both a “public figure” AND an extremely private individual. I don’t consider myself a “public figure” at all. The first time a family member used that turn of phrase, out of concern for my physical safety, I nearly laughed until I cried because the expression sounded utterly preposterous. The sentiment was of a genuine nature. She was concerned that I’d be targeted for writing the truth in such an “in your face” manner.. I remember my response was, “They can TRY. I’m trained to take someone out, if need be.” This required further explanation because this person’s fears are SO great, the concept of physically fighting back was not something she had ever considered. It wouldn’t occur to her to fight back with words, either. 😔 As a result, I encouraged her to take some self-defense classes and/or Krav Maga, especially if she was going to keep saying she “doesn’t like guns”. You don’t have to like or love any instrument, tool, or experience that is the difference between your life and death, but you shouldn’t be ignorant, either. Women should know how to protect themselves, and pray daily that you NEVER have to utilize the training. 

I do bite, but I think it’s all in how I’m approached. If you saw someone walking around blatantly publicizing my work (via merchandise, like a t-shirt or phone case), and you wondered if it was me, a normal person would probably just come up and ask. I *almost* ordered a customized case last year as a promotional tool before replacing my phone, but if you’ve got to think about it for six months, it’s okay to pass. I might do it when I upgrade.

I have hundreds of ideas involved with my writing and the expansion of my work, but I know when to make a move and I also know when a promotional move looks completely desperate or pathetic. I’m many things, good and not so good, but I’m NOT an attention seeker.

Weeks ago, I noticed an awful lot of bragging from someone in my acquaintance circle. After rolling my eyes (A LOT. I’m not going to lie. This person gives off SUCH a fake vibe to me, and honestly, I’ve tried figuring out why, but I can’t. Once I detect that a person isn’t authentic, I don’t invest additional time into them. Your first instinct is almost always the right one.), I decided to do a little homework. If it was legit, I would be supportive and cheer this person on (a little), but I ended up having a good laugh, sadly enough. I was utterly wowed by the stupidity. Instead of the “achievement” being 110% authentic, I quickly learned it’s smoke and mirrors. 🙄 I CANNOT support a lie. It’s a costly decision, and to each their own, but that’s not going to be something I will support. It definitely falls into the “Instagram > Reality” mindset. The grass might appear lush and oh, SO, green, but the reality is this, it’s been fertilized with epic amounts of manure. 

I know how easily people fall into the trap of following one over the other. It stems from monotony and unhappiness that, all too often, is not discussed. Reality is something people now think of as “television entertainment”, as opposed to me smacking them in the head and saying, “No. Your LIFE is reality, not an image or having an outlandish imagination.” If I smacked more people, this world would do a total 360 quickly. It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever had. 😉

There will be people who love what I’ve written here, and others will get upset and/ or have hurt feelings. I’m good with both because I know what reality is.

I don’t have time for bullshit. I have time for authenticity, for pausing before I do something publicly, and I have time to say, “This is who I am. I haven’t changed. I’ve grown 🌱, but my core values and message, no, that has not changed.” I’m going to remain my mother’s daughter, and I’m beyond good with that. 💜

Which do you prefer? Instagram or the truth?

© 2019 by Lisa Marino and Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

How The Hell Do You Edit The Truth?

Miss Poison Being Real, December, Poison In Lethal Doses, Truth, Writing , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

I’ve been working on a personal and extremely important mental health piece for nearly two months. As I was writing the end and editing the deeply personal parts, I felt stuck. I’m rarely ever stuck as a writer. I think the problem is, I’m trying to edit out the harshness and the absolute truth to protect someone, but does this person really require my protection? Do they actually deserve it? It’s not like I’m naming names. And yet, I somehow feel the need to show compassion towards someone who has caused so much damage; damage they aren’t even aware of or care about. I suppose that makes me the bigger person. Guess what? I’m not liking this role too much. 😦

People have NO IDEA how often I ponder a situation and think, “Hmm, what would Dexter do?” That’s my first thought at times when people do something unforgivable or something that makes me contemplate strangling them. Note to self: Must get a t-shirt with Michael C. Hall’s face on it. My more recent thought comes after “WWDD”, and is “What would Tommy Shelby do?” Two completely brilliant characters portrayed by incredibly gifted actors, neither of whom have probably ever had to use these references in their daily lives. Interestingly enough, there is not a female character anywhere who I feel embodies any aspect of my thought process, and it makes me a little sad, but there’s no crying over spilled coconut milk.

For me, writing is the ultimate expression of honesty. It is the “public face” of my brand in a myriad of ways, and yet, many readers probably pass me on the street and have no clue who I am. I have always been incredibly content with that knowledge. Do I want strangers approaching me on the street because they read my work? Not particularly, but I wouldn’t be rude to them if they did. However, I’m not about to splash my face all over anything anytime soon because I get judged enough for my face on a regular basis. I remember meeting people at different stages of my writing career and for one reason or another, people were always shocked when they met me for the first time. I don’t think I’ve ever said to someone, “Wow. You’re actually really pretty.” or “You have no idea how other people respond to your beauty.” My best friend at the time, Shay, we were such polar opposites, but in some respects she made me come out of my shell far more than some of my other friends. I’m a much more confident person than I was a year or even ten years ago, but with social media, I am still careful and cautious. Also, I hate when I have an image of someone in my head, and then they send me a picture or they post one, and they look NOTHING like my imagination, which is very image specific. I suspect imagery is often based on how people write or speak, initially, or maybe how you discover their heart.

Getting back on track; I still feel stuck with this piece. I want to be authentic to who I am and post it entirely as is, including the bitchy parts I wrote when I was angry and felt the need to REALLY let loose. I don’t want to edit it. I don’t want to cushion the horrible aspect of what happened and what is happening because that’s taking the truth out of it, and that’s not who I am.

I have never written a single false thing. If you were to skim through the fiction work I have done, you’d find stacks and stacks of truth woven into the two different bodies of work, and yet, only those closest to me will ever know who the characters are in real life.

Writers find inspiration in many different places, but for me, my attention to detail and how I observe others is probably the biggest part of why I do what I do with ease and humility. It drives people crazy that they can’t lie to me or pull one over on me, and I know it’s because they have no idea how I know the truth. They have no grasp of what their tells are, and what it tells me about their character.

The biggest issue for me, in what I am writing, boils down to honesty and having mine placed under question and attacked. Anyone who truly knows me knows I’m a terrible liar, so I don’t even bother. One of my best friends pointed out to me that I have never lied to her once in all the years we have been friends, and she knows this because she trusts me with things many people would not. She’s not a naive person, either. She just happens to be my best friend and someone who has known me a long time. If I was deceitful, dishonest, or a horrible person, these things would have surfaced long ago. She was frank when she said, “That’s not who you are. Don’t let people twist the narrative to make themselves feel better. You KNOW who you are.” That’s where I find comfort; in my friends knowing me for precisely who and what I am. In their knowledge that I’m always the same person, all across the board. They’re right. Being dishonest isn’t part of who I am. If anything, I am probably too honest, but I’m trying to work on my filter where certain people are concerned.

I am struggling with a lot right now, but having anyone question or attempt to test me as a person? Sorry, that isn’t up for debate because I absolutely know who I am, and no one gets to question it. Not even me.

And so, I’ll edit some of the harsher points, mostly to be a lady, but I’m not going to pretend. I’m not going to temper my feelings because they might hurt someone else’s feelings; someone who didn’t spare a moment of concern for me during a horrific time in my life. After all, I was NOT the one to attack their honesty or character.

There’s a reason my platform is named “Poison In Lethal Doses”. It’s an analogy for many things, but at the beginning and end of each day, it also covers ALL BASES. Let that be a lesson to those of you who think I’m not venomous. If you’re going to attack me, you’re going to get served. For now, we’ll pretend it’s a game of tennis. If I remember correctly, having been taught to play, you lost the second you attacked me. I will come out the other side; mostly because you don’t think I can achieve anything. That’s where you’re wrong.

copyright 2018 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. All written work may not be re-blogged or posted anywhere without express written consent from the author. This authors’ work and personal photos are protected under U.S. and International copyright laws. Additional protection is covered under the Digital Millennium Copyright Act.

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Lethal Poison And The Scorpion

Miss Poison Being Real, Creativity, Evolution Of Language, Experience, Feelings, Honesty, January, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Read, Talent, Truth, Writers, Writing, Your Calling , , , , , , , , ,

manifesto

The title sounds slightly gruesome (I’m a writer who, up until a few weeks ago, was researching serial killers. Leave me alone, okay? LOL.), but it is merely a reference for people who’ve known me my entire career, or at the very least, a good enough chunk of it, and know what to expect from me.

It seems like only yesterday when I was first given the idea to write something immensely simple. After that, it was as if I’d been plugged in to something unique and special, and I certainly was. Back then, I didn’t know what it was precisely, or where it would lead, but the path less traveled has been both good, and not so good, to me.

A lot of people ask themselves “When do I get to call myself a writer?” or “When am I officially a writer?” First and foremost; there are many different types of writers. Some people write music, poetry, movie scripts. Some write books, plays, or simply share their thoughts in a creative way. When you do it and can’t stop doing it because you are driven by a genuine need to share your thoughts and acquire feedback, good or bad, then you, my friend, are a writer.

Don’t get me wrong, though. It’s important not to twist things; plenty of people “write” and aren’t true writers. It’s a fact. Many are published authors who I will not call out by name, but nevertheless, they’ve hit a lucky strike at the end of a rainbow because there is zero talent to what they’re doing. It’s published gibberish that would make any true writer cringe. I spend more days cringing when work is submitted to me for editing than I do enjoying the work of another writer. Sad, but true. Sometimes, no matter how strongly you guide someone, they simply cannot be a gifted storyteller. There’s no shame in that. I believe it is inherently within a person, or not. It is not something I will ever feel is taught.

Some people come at you, as a “writer”, from a different angle. Satire, humor, playfulness, honesty, anger. The list is never-ending. Choose an emotion and/or a genre and I assure you; someone, somewhere, is writing about it.

I’m told we all have our “gifts”, our niche, in life, and that it is through exploration and exploration alone that we stumble upon said gifts. But there are many people who are lucky; achieving a measure of success through connections, as opposed to genuine talent. Then there are those who are born with immense gifts they’re simply waiting to share with the world, gifts they are, too often, not aware of.

If my gift with the written and spoken word had not been encouraged, supported, applauded, then I might be doing something boring at this very moment; something I loathe with every fiber of my being.

I know far too many people who’ve been in the same job for twenty, thirty, or forty years and absolutely HATE what they do. I have my moments. I’ve never hesitated to discuss them openly and honestly, but my gift? No, I don’t regret it; not any of them.

I’ve spent the majority of my life being put down, shunned, laughed at, and/or insulted for being creatively talented, as opposed to a “follow the rules” type. I would rather live an authentic life, as opposed to one chosen for me by others. I would rather pick and choose my wealth of knowledge, as opposed to doing what is “expected”. That is precisely how one masters the art of being gifted with a talent.

I speak the way I write. I live the way I write. It’s one of the reasons people like and respect me. It’s one of the reasons I get feedback that doesn’t require anyone kissing my ass telling me how great I am. I don’t walk around trying to be anything I am not. In turn, I feel it helps the words be more clear for others. Because it’s honest; it’s easy to relate. I’ve had many people tell me when they could not relate to something I wrote or said, but they still respected the hell out of me for putting my thoughts out into the universe so boldly. I never looked at it the way they did, not until receiving that level of feedback. I was simply writing, and they were reading with their senses fully engaged. I call that mutual respect.

Several years ago I started shutting down certain aspects of myself that I was told were “wrong” or “needed work”. It turns out the people whispering lies in my ears were wrong. Very wrong. The only time I need to work on something is when I choose to work on it, and only then. I am fully entitled to my feelings, thoughts, unique point of view, and even more entitled to live my truth. It is more important to me to tell the true stories than it is for me to pretend.

Whispering lies to someone is a form of manipulative abuse. It’s a way of telling someone they’re not good enough in YOUR eyes, usually because YOU don’t like certain attributes they possess. Often because it makes you uncomfortable, or because you’re jealous you don’t possess the same level of strength. I’ve had people tell me they could NEVER be the kind of friend I am to others, and then turn around and tell me my friends wouldn’t love me if they had to live with me. That came from a former best friend, and it came from a place of jealousy because she couldn’t even be a solid best friend to ONE person, leave alone multiple people. She did not understand how crucial being a good friend is to the core of who I am, and so, a friendship I thought would always be present is a friendship no longer. Her choice. Her immense loss.

Most people don’t think I’m funny, which is perfectly okay. My friends and my brother find me HILARIOUS, and that’s because they get me. I don’t care if other people lack the ability to grasp my humor, because those that do are invaluable to me. Criticizing my sense of humor is only going to make me laugh at you, it isn’t going to poison my mind against my wacky, twisted humor. I have to live with me. I have to look in the mirror and be able to face that person day in and day out.

I wasn’t raised to worry about being liked or loved by others. I’m secure enough in myself to not need the approval of everyone around me. Sure, at least once a day it would be nice to not be insulted or told I’m wrong, or be accused of things I’ve never even thought of, leave alone committed, but that’s not MY issue and I’m not going to carry it with me any longer. I do, however, have to be true to myself.

So, Lethal Poison is back in business. This Scorpion may glow, but she’s not afraid to sting, either. You decide which side you’d like to be on. I’ll keep speaking the truth.

Vi veri universum vivus vic~ “By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe.”

copyright © 2017 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity, LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED