Writing was my first lover…
I have been writing since I was 11 years old. My mother passed away shortly after my 11th birthday and I needed an outlet. My 5th grade teacher gave me a journal and a stuffed monkey who I deemed “Mr. Monkey”. Just a side note, I slept with that monkey until I was 18 and now my son sleeps with it. I started writing in that journal as soon as I got it and I haven’t stopped writing.
I write words as if they are blood seeping onto paper. My heart, soul, thoughts, desires, everything comes out onto paper.
My mother passing left my world shattered in a million pieces and fucked me up in more ways than I care to realize. For some reason, death has been a constant passenger in my car and takes a piece of me each time. However, I must say there is a silver lining. I must say, if I had to go through everything I have gone through again to get to this very moment, I would do it in a heart beat. From my mother passing I learned that you never, not once, take the life you were blessed with for granted. You savor every single moment you are presented with good and bad. No matter how bad you think your life is, trust me, it could be so much worse. I am 24 and felt like I have lived and endured more than what one human being should have to endure in their lifetime. I know that you must always, always have relentless perseverance with whatever challenge you are faced with. You don’t give up because that is too damn easy. You keep fighting until the very last breath escapes your lips. That right there, is what will give you life.
My mom and I
X’s and O’s