Speaker Of Powerful Words

“Speaker Of Powerful Words” was recently added to my professional bio. It makes me laugh because I don’t always realize how much power I put into the words I use. If you heard how I say things in my everyday life, you’d quickly learn it’s not any different from how I apply my voice to the written word.

One of the things I like about myself the most is that I don’t have dual-personalities. The way I write is the same way I speak in every format possible. Be it e-mail, letters, text messages, phone calls; I remain the same. It’s one of the things my closest friends have pointed out to me, and it’s one of the things they most love and respect about me.

Not everyone can handle unadulterated honesty or unfiltered realness. I, occasionally, struggle with the things people say to me when they are said with malice, disrespect, or a severe lack of clarity. 95% of the time, I wouldn’t say something with malicious intent to someone I care about. The tiny back-end percentage would be higher, but you haven’t met my extended family. I’d believe I was adopted if I didn’t know with absolute certainty that I wasn’t. I used to dream of being rescued by my “real parents” for many years, but now I know that the only person who can rescue me is…me.

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Words do have incredible power. It’s important to use your words wisely, even if, on occasion, it turns you into a hypocrite. No one is perfect and there are often moments in life where we don’t always practice what we preach, or follow the path we’ve personally suggested.

People often come to me with problems. They require advice and they need a trusted ear. I almost always find that they’re struggling between logic and intuition. As someone who lives an intuitive based life, I struggle with their issues because no matter what I say, they desperately want to see the good in the behavior of others, even when they’re being hurt and disrespected, or worse. I don’t care what other people may think: Good does not reside in the heart and soul of every single person in this world. Hell, jails are full of rapists, murderers, and all sorts of living proof, but it clearly bears repeating. Not everyone is good, not everyone has good intentions, and not everyone is 100% genuine. It’s sad, but it’s a fact.

In life, I take everything and everyone on a case-by-case basis. I can be a really nice person (No, I’m not kidding. Get to know me.), but if I’m shown the ugliest side of someone, the niceness goes away in 0.1 seconds. If you throw the “bitch card’ at me, you’re showing me an ugly side that isn’t something I respect. If you break it out once and I never see it again, I move on, the relationship continues in whatever form it resides in, but I will NEVER forget that I saw it. There’s a reason Scorpio is attached to my on-line profile, it’s not just my astrological sign; I can and will see through your bullshit. I have the power to sting, and I’m incredibly self-aware. I cannot unhear or unsee red flags, whatever they may be. I attribute that to being intuitive and living my life based on sensory perception.

I don’t understand people who will spit on you and tell you it’s raining. I don’t understand passive-aggressive people who turn the tiniest comment into the issue of the century. Far too many people struggle with difference of opinion. It’s their way or the highway. Unfortunately, they don’t understand that life is full of grey area. I’m a person of extremes, but I spend a lot of time in the grey, so I understand it maybe too well. I am baffled by people who refuse to expand their own minds and learn. How else do you grow? The stagnant life is pitiful indeed.

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Whenever I see “Speaker Of Powerful Words” on my bio, I feel as though it comes with immense responsibility. People talk a lot about athletes being role models for our children, but WE should be role models for our children and our children’s children. We should be the teachers who inspire them with words and actions to be better people. There is an exceptionally long list of ways to go about that.

I believe it’s important not to treat children like babies and talk to them like they’re morons. By all means, allow them to have their childhood, but do not be afraid to tackle the tough stuff. Uninformed children, or children that spend their entire lives being lied to by their parents, become insecure and completely unsure of themselves with age. They lack much-needed self-confidence. I have seen this carry over into adulthood, so please, avoid the bullshit and be real.

No one ever spoke “baby talk” to me, so when I started speaking, I spoke in full sentences. That was one of the ways I knew that adults took me seriously. I wasn’t encouraged to be the “next President of the United States” (who the hell would want that job?! No one sane!), but all of my talents were fostered.

My athletic ability was not ignored. I spent a huge chunk of my life as a gymnast, starting at age 4. Later on when my voice teacher called my mother and told her that I could sing, really sing, and that she wanted to tutor me privately, I got voice lessons. To this day, I still sing.

When my writing ability became my voice, it was not ignored. I was enrolled in a performing arts school at the time because of my singing, but every English, History, and Science teacher was completely blown away by me. I have incredibly fond memories of them and how encouraging they were of me. They all wanted me to move on and shine.

When I moved on to major in journalism and creative writing, that’s when I came upon my first real critic. When a professor tells you you’re “ruining the class” because of what you write and tells you he will continue to fail you until you drop the class, you can either keep going or you can laugh. I did both. He’d belittle me three times a week and I’d go home laughing because I was being published for thinking outside the box. In a room full of roughly 30 of the best writers in that part of New York City at the time, he singled me out constantly. Nothing I wrote was ever “good enough”. It only made me better. It gave me incredible vision for the future.

The years have come and gone and I have yet to meet someone who agrees with him. And if I did…I’d laugh.

I may not be everyone’s cup of coffee or tea, and that is perfectly acceptable to me, but at the end of each day, I am a speaker of powerful words. I salute you for reading my work and clicking LIKE.

Enjoy the updated bio and by all means, feel free to follow me on Twitter. Anyone that would also like to connect with me on Facebook can message me.

Thank you to #ChiropracticDaily for featuring my second article on migraines. It is most appreciated.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Some People, They Can’t Just Move On…

“Some people, they can’t just move on, you know, mourn and cry and be done with it. Or at least seem to be. But for me… I don’t know. I didn’t want to fix it, to forget. It wasn’t something that was broken. It’s just…something that happened. And like that hole, I’m just finding ways, every day, of working around it. Respecting and remembering and getting on at the same time. ” ―Sarah Dessen

*In Memory Of My Grandfather…Великою людиною дійсно ніколи не може бути втрачено або забуто- A great man can never truly be lost or forgotten.*

When I First Started Writing…

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When I first started writing, the advice that has stayed with me for 28 years is this: Write what you think, write what you feel, and write what you know. It doesn’t matter if someone doesn’t like it.

There may have been some profanity thrown into the mix, but that was the gist of it. I’ve been writing ever since.

I was a quiet, shy, observant child. Painfully so. Writing became this exemplary form of communication for me. It is through writing that I discovered my voice, the strength in that voice, and it allowed me to become incredibly comfortable speaking in public. I used to avoid eye contact and concentrate on the words I’d written, but now I make a point of making eye contact with people as I speak and memorizing several lines in advance to avoid looking down at what I’ve prepared. I’ve found that this alternative form of being even more direct than usual actually makes people uncomfortable. They look away, but they don’t stop listening.

To this day, I am still quiet and observant. I’m not the type of person that pushes herself upon anyone in terms of friendship, or even conversation. I don’t walk up to strangers and have conversations with them for no reason. I tend to keep to myself and my circle of friends, a circle that I am drawing tighter each day.

In my core group of friends, I am the only writer. I’m also the one who communicates differently than everyone else, probably because I do write and putting my thoughts down, in any form, is generally how I keep from killing others, but it’s also how I fight for the things that are most important to me.

Of late I’ve been reading a lot of different statements about writing from people on different levels of the spectrum, and I either find myself inspired or irritated.

I’ve said it before, but it bears saying again: Proverbial puking words onto a page does not make you a writer. Cohesiveness in storytelling might not even make you a writer. Sad, but true. We are all different. The people who drive me insane are the ones who have, quite literally, been writing for 15 minutes and expect fame and fortune.

Getting published traditionally and being successful to the point where you can quit your day job is a longshot. You might very well have a greater shot at winning Powerball or Mega Millions. A writer I love talks about that a lot, but apparently no one is listening to him. However, I’ve read all of his books since about 2003, so I don’t perceive my work as “perfect”, “fantastic”, or “superior” because I see greatness in so many people’s work. It might be someone on the New York Times Best Sellers’ List, but it might also be a little-known blogger or an Indie author. So many people have great stories to tell, and many more do not.

Several years ago I was in Barnes & Noble with my Aunt. They were remodeling that particular store and the genre I write in had been moved around. There were probably several thousand books, all one genre, all potential “competition”. I could have had an outright panic attack looking closely at them, but I didn’t. I decided that there was room left on the shelf for me. I did have a moment of serious doubt, but it quickly passed. The fact that people have told me they love my characters and would buy my books, based solely on reading a few chapters, is special to me.

This platform is where I come to be myself. There can be a plethora of emotion here, and I do not judge myself, or others, for any of it. In my professional work as an editor, I am supremely honest and direct, just as I am in every other aspect of my life. And when I’m dealing with my fiction material, it’s not that different. It’s still my voice, harsh honesty, and intensely strong characters that you will either like, love, or love-to-hate. I like, respect, and appreciate the honesty within the fiction because that’s what helps breathe life into it.

In the future, I hope to be able to share it all with you. For now, I’ll be here… Writing what I think, feel, and know. I don’t care if it’s liked or not.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Guilty!
Guilty!

Days

The days are filled with terror. Problems piled up so high.

Panic sets in, as soon as the birds start chirping.

Sleepless nights, filled with anguish.

Nothing solved from day-to-day, constantly being turned away.

No one has answers and no one seems to care, absolving themselves of any and all responsibility.

Reliability is rare, it cannot be depended on.

Seemingly, everything is rare, and nothing can truly be trusted.

Pain is a constant, from head to toe.

But there’s no one there to listen, because they’ve all made it clear they don’t care.

The sound is overwhelming, discovering the noise is all within my mind.

These days don’t get better, and I just drift away…

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Self-Centered Planet

On your own self-centered planet… No time for anyone.

Believing your own words, as if they’re the complete truth.

Impressing upon others, that they’re always wrong…

Invalidating feelings that are actually dead on.

I don’t have time for nonsense. I don’t have time for bullshit.

I will not have my thoughts and feelings reduced, not by you, not by anyone.

Communication is the problem. One person cannot put forth all the effort when the other isn’t receptive.

Some people always feel the need to get the last word in, but I’m a writer. They should know I’ll finish what they think they started.

No, I don’t have time for bullshit.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Silver Linings

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At this particular point in time, I am having difficulties seeing the silver linings. Life has its ups and downs. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it sucks. We’ve all experienced this. I’m not quite certain what to do when it’s predominantly sucky.

I work hard, but there is always a problem that arises and it’s always something I have to fix. It makes almost all aspects of life, outside of a handful of things, completely miserable, moving straight into unbearable. When does it end? 😦

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At a severe low point, I called a suicide prevention hotline. I feel absolutely no shame in admitting that. I do, however, feel incredible outrage by how I was treated by this hotline that will willingly accept my donations, and yours, but refused to so much as help me when I wasn’t very far away from my personal ledge.

The person who took my call was already on the phone with someone “in a more severe crisis”. I have no idea how she knew this other person was in a more severe situation than I was because the first thing she did was put me on hold for about 30 minutes. Let me reiterate that she never even bothered to ask me if I was all right and in a safe place before she did that. She finally comes back on the line and says that the other call is more important and I should try calling back later. She didn’t ask where my head space was, NOTHING. She spewed the call back later crap and hung up. Even if you’re short-handed, even if you’re a volunteer, that isn’t the way to treat anyone who is calling a suicide prevention line. Clearly, they’re not calling for shits and giggles, it takes courage to make that call. I hung up with my jaw wide open, feeling even more betrayed by the world. It was a gut punch. “Wow! Even the suicide prevention hotline can’t prioritize me for half a second before hanging up!” If I wanted to be treated that way, I have family for that.

Earlier this year a now former friend asked me via text message if I “needed professional help”. Instead of understanding that I was in a bad place and needed support, she ended up blowing me off and later “broke up” with me via e-mail. I thought we’d be friends a very long time, so I was understandably blown away by the dramatic behavior and inability to show compassion to another human-being. I will never name names, but I am also at that point where forgiveness is not an option. You only get one chance with me. (Other things did occur towards the end, but I will never discuss any of that because it’s private. If the other person chooses to say something, they would be wrong.)

Telling me you’re worried about me via text message doesn’t convey care or concern. It’s just words. Picking up the fucking phone and saying “I know you’re not okay. I’m here for you.” is a better way to let anyone know that you’re truly there for them.

One of the biggest issues with cell phones and tablets is that no one talks to each other or communicates properly. The other day a woman took a call in front of me from her mother. Her mother wanted to argue and she said “Lets discuss this in person. There is no need to have this conversation over the phone. I will see you in a few hours.” She repeated the same statement several times because apparently she was dealing with a stubborn parent. When she hung up she said she HATED how people misconstrue things via text, e-mail, and sometimes even over the phone. She was totally on my level, saying how she’d rather be face-to-face with certain people because that way, there’s no misunderstanding whatsoever. It was incredibly refreshing.

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I cannot speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself. If I sense that someone is going through a rough time, whether they voice it or not, they don’t have to ask me to be a good friend or family member, because I do not lack common sense. I am not the world’s most compassionate soul (I openly admit that.), and I will never win awards for my niceness (The niceness gene died at age 12.), but I am emotionally present. That’s more than I can say for a great many people in my life and those I’ve chosen to get rid of.

If you love your friends, you fight for them. Their well-being is important to you and you don’t need to be insulting in order to get your point across. The same is true for family. I come from a very large extended family, but at the end of the day, they are almost exclusively people I happen to be related to (Who are banned from future book signings and appearances. LOL.). They’re not my everyday “I’ve got your back”, “Don’t worry about it.”, “No problem, I’ll help you.” family. There’s an immense difference. I have friends and family I’d do anything for, but with the rest… I’d break out the marshmallows if they were on fire.

Ultimately, not everyone you know is a good person down to roots of their soul. If you find those that are good, don’t let them go over petty idiocy. Learn how to say “I’m sorry” when you’re wrong or when you’ve hurt someone. Learn how to admit you don’t know it all. Be yourself, be real, GROW.

Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us. So, I employ a “live and let live” policy. If you’re good to me, I will appreciate that and I will say so. If you’re a piece of shit to me, eventually I will make sure you know what I think of you. Or I won’t be so bothered as to waste the oxygen, that all depends on my mood.

If you’re a part of my life, I am grateful to have you in it. I keep my circle of friends close because of the value I place upon the element of friendship. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t have true friends, and I really don’t trust women who don’t have at least 1-3 close female friends. It’s a red flag. Kind of like a man at a bar that still has a tan line where his wedding band should be, but tells you he’s single or how horrible his “soon-to-be” ex-wife is. Unless you see divorce papers, he’s full of crap and is a married man who hasn’t stopped dating.

I’m eternally appreciative that I am one of those rare people who truly doesn’t care if people like me or not. I spend no time at all wondering what others think of me as a person. Those that take the time to get to know me on a deeper level are the ones that benefit from my fierce loyalty and “ride or die” friendship. Those that burn me clearly don’t know that, like the Phoenix, I will always rise again.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Moody Musings

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I’m in an ugly mood. I think I went to bed that way, to some extent, which only partially explains my nasty mood this morning. I (almost) never lock my cats out of my bedroom, but when they started their petition to shove me out of bed around 5:00, I silently got up, put grain free food in their bowls, and as they both moved to their respective bowls, I shut my door. About an hour and a half later the little one started screeching like the world was ending. I let her back in to abate the crying and then ended up locking her out because she was trying to claw her way through me. When I haven’t slept well, there is no amount of annoying behavior that will push me out of bed. I also don’t want to yell at them because they don’t understand it and it’s traumatic for them. I simply cannot bend, touch my toes, or turn my head/neck at the moment. It’s upsetting to be in this much pain and not be able to take care of basic things, including myself.

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Injustice and abuse of power infuriate me. Alas, I don’t look good in orange, so going after a power-hungry cop, fresh out of the academy, who thinks his dick is as tall as he is, is probably NOT a good idea. With all the police issues in this country, I figure the asshole will eventually say the wrong thing to the wrong person. I have to believe there’s some kind of karmic justice at play here, and that I have to just take care of me and mine. However, factoring in that I cannot physically move and that I’m in excruciating pain, I feel like there’s some kind of evil joke at play here.

Several weeks ago, a church was firebombed in my area by someone who got early release after kidnapping two minors back in 2008. Tax dollars hard at work. <rolls eyes> Emergency responders were already in the area and able to handle the situation quickly, but $50,000 worth of damage was still done.

At the moment, there is a huge carnival going on at a different church. It usually lasts for about a week or two. Ever since it started, there have been break-ins ranging from small to large, even if people are already home and asleep. Whoever is doing it doesn’t give a shit if there are cars in the driveway, they’re still going to risk their lives for “stuff”. This is occurring not even two minutes from my neighborhood. It’s within walking distance. A woman walked into her house yesterday to find a man going through her things. She, in her infinite stupidity, asked who he was and what he was doing there! He hit her in the face and took off, but now it’s clear that it isn’t just one person. The various local police departments decided to let people know about all of this via social media. Every single person that responded said “I have dogs and guns, go for it.” I do not currently possess the strength to utilize a shotgun properly, so, God forbid, my only option would be something smaller. I highly recommend no one sneak up on me for a while.

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Are naturally perky people drinking too much coffee, on a drug I’m not aware of, or are they born that chipper? Are they simply “bright side of everything” types? I truly don’t know because I cannot relate.

95% of the time I wake up like a sleeping dragon. Unless I am able to go back to sleep or take a nap, I’m pretty unpleasant in the mornings. For quite some time I was up at 4:00 a.m. every single day. I was in bed early each night, it worked out well for me. But now I cannot seem to fall asleep and stay asleep. Being woken every morning at 5:00 a.m. is tiresome, to say the least. You’d think they were being starved, but the opposite is true. They like routine, but they were also thundering up and down the stairs after midnight. Where do they get the energy?!

Studies claim that people who wear lots of grey and blue are depressed, and people who wear bold colors are happy. Don’t we all get depressed at times? Who the hell lives the absolute perfect, trouble-free life? Even Fortune 500 CEO’s have problems, but everything is covered up beneath the shiny veneer. FYI: I wear a lot of grey and blue because they’re two of my favorite colors. I hate red, but that’s not exactly a well-kept secret.

In simple terms, I feel moody as hell today. I’m pretty sure it’s a 50/50 toss-up between life and…life. I am trying to pull myself together to run errands and not commit any murders today. As an introverted extrovert, this means headphones are going to be my best friend today.

I hope everyone has a calm, pleasant weekend to look forward to. Keep cool, don’t get too much sun, and remember to reapply sunscreen every 80 minutes, even if it’s cloudy out and you haven’t been sweating. Sun damage and sunburn(s) are things no one wants to deal with.

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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Father’s Day

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You will find that I am almost completely silent on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. I lost both of my parents within five months of each other between 2007 and 2008, so each holiday is difficult for me. My parents were young, making it all the more devastating.

I have a living, constant reminder of my father, but I don’t have one of my mother. People often assume I am exactly the same person as each of my parents and they’re wrong. I am not as ferocious as my father, though I have my moments. I am not as kind, caring, or anywhere near as compassionate as my mother. I simply lack the genetic make-up for those traits. I like to think I am the correct blend of their best qualities, but I’m highly aware that I inherited a fiery temper.

People think that when you lose your parents, you simply keep on living, that you don’t look back on their memory. They would be wrong, at least where I am concerned. There is no way for me to live without honoring the memory of the people I have loved and lost. To do less would be false, and I’m many things, but I’m not false.

On days like these, I can either ignore the issue completely or I suffer. Of course, I’ve been doing a lot of suffering lately, so I can only hope this coming week will be a better one.

To all the fathers, step-fathers, uncles, Grandfathers, & single parents who step up and handle the tough stuff, may today be a reminder of the appreciation bestowed upon you. To all the new Dad’s, welcome to parenting.

Let Me Know When It’s My Turn

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It’s mildly interesting to me that the majority of people don’t care how much they bitch to others. They can complain about the same thing every single day for 8-12 hours, but God forbid you want to interject with a thought. Suddenly you’re “the enemy” who has interrupted the flow of kvetching. (Please refer to Yiddish phrases. Contact me ONLY if you do not understand its true meaning.)

In reality, you’re simply tired of hearing the whining. You’ve contemplated 60 different ways to kill a person using office supplies and/or electronic devices at your disposal. I always think it’s exceptionally safe that people cannot see me on the phone when I am listening to them drone on for hours about nonsensical shit that means nothing to me. I’m not completely heartless (I had it checked), but if the last 20 conversations centered around one topic and one topic alone, I have probably thought about how bad Q-tip damage to the ear really is. I’m a great listener, but I am not known for my patience or tolerance for bullshit. Simply put, I don’t have the head for it.

On occasion, I would like for someone to listen to me and truly hear what I have to say. So by all means, let me know when it’s my turn! In the meantime, I need a nap. 😦

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Professional Headaches

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I am not known for my patience. If you’re not a child or a “little” (“Hello littles!” That’s how I talk to animals.), my tolerance for you is probably slim to none. God help you if slim leaves town.

People’s expectations are unreasonable, especially when I am given work that requires hours and hours of face time. There are only so many hours in a day. You can only write “rewrite” and “revise” so many times in a day. You can only make so many corrections that are crucial to the development of a story, and point out major errors before you slowly start to lose your mind. And when you do, if you’re like me, you take a few days to breathe. Unless I’m on a tight deadline, I am going to include some self-care in the mix, or I’ll kill the clients and no one wants that…or do they?

You ignore the “Is it done yet?” questions that have about as much impact as on you as “Are we there yet?” You try not to say what you really think and feel. You wait a few days and then you respond as professionally as humanly possible, but how many times do you really need to say “Please, let me work. This is way more than what I signed on for.” to the same person? How many times do you have to repeat yourself about how they should have read their work in advance of sending it to you? Yet, perhaps it’s nerves, impatience, what have you, but it is fucking annoying to constantly be asked the same damn questions. I’m exceedingly mature, so when people far older than I are immature, it’s an immense turn off, be it personally or professionally.

If you give me something and ask me to read it, be prepared for an honest answer when you inevitably ask “Is it good?” I used to ask people if they wanted my opinion or the truth, and to be careful with their choice. I no longer ask because whether it’s one or the other in terms of delivery, it is still the unadulterated truth. Dunkin Donuts and I have not teamed up to sugar coat your day. Mmm, donuts…

Editors still have lives. I work hard, but when I need a break it is usually due to my health or personal responsibilities. I cannot be glued to my laptop 24/7 looking at the same material every single moment. One, it’s not healthy and two, it’s important to get up and move when you work at a computer all day. Sitting is the new cancer, at least according to the medical professionals I know. I don’t know about all of you, but it makes me uncomfortable hearing the two words used together, so it’s not uncommon for me to walk away and do a load of laundry, or cook, watch the birds and bunnies in the backyard for a while, or simply shut the computer down for a few hours and focus on other things. I’m human. Moreover, I’m a human-being who suffers from Fibromyalgia. The days I can sit at all are miraculous. My pain gets worse each day, so I’m not receptive to whining from others.

I can either do something right the first time or not do it at all. If you consistently annoy me, you can pretty much guarantee I will be unavailable for future projects. I’ve already done enough work for 20 paychecks, not one. It’s hard not to be frustrated knowing that.

For future reference, too many people think they’re writers. Puking ideas onto paper does not make you a writer. Cohesive storytelling is a gift. Having honest people in your life who encourage the good and let you know when something is awful is also important.

There are days I wish I was an unprofessional hack. 😦

For those of you that messaged me about cutting off so much of my hair: I am almost certain today that it’s too short and I hate it, but I am trying to give myself time to get used to it. In turn, I am off to play with the Topstyler and see if that makes a difference. If it doesn’t, I am changing the color to blue until it grows back. Right now I am pretty sure I look like my brother with hair. 😦

copyright © 2015 by Lisa Marino & Blackbird Serenity LLC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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