New Favorite Lyrics!

Stained- "Everything Changes"

"If you just walked away
What could I really say?
Would it matter anyway?
Would it change how you feel?

I am the mess you chose
The closet you cannot close
The devil in you I suppose
'Cause the wounds never heal

But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel

Sometimes the things I say
In moments of disarray
Succumbing to the games we play
To make sure that it's real

But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could learn to feel

When its just me and you
Who know what we could do
If we can just make it through
The toughest part of the day

But everything changes
If I could
Turn back the years
If you could
Learn to forgive me
Then I could
Learn how to feel
Then we could
Stay here together
And we could
Conquer the world
If we could
Say that forever
Is more than just a word

If you just walked away
That could i really say?
And would it matter anyways?
It wouldnt change how you feel"


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wEc5kaBuQ90

I Couldnt Help it...Another Clip of Mark 2

Azezyal watches me, the voices in my head becoming more a constant every waking moment. I can see his fear, the way he pleads for me to speak with him, the times he attempts to cover my naked skin. I dare not cover the growing skin, the belly that had taken shape. I can see how it now begins to move, the little hands pressing outwards, stretching, letting me know that its thriving.
He means well, but I cannot keep the candles lit. I try but the flames forever disappearing, the smoke filling the air causing a mist to take over. The eyes beyond the trees that watch us also make their presence known more often than ever. I have not changed form since those first few days back. I have not left; Azezyal’s fear that I will be forever lost has grown much since I began to show with child. He leaves, the crow in his being capable of flying above the shelter of the deafening trees.
Again the cries in my ears shout words that I could never comprehend. One by one they argue, when I think I have a grasp of silencing them, I realize that once again they screech the unknowables. The candles distracting me, one by one I relight them, the water below them mirroring the light as though we are covered by hundreds of thousands of little lights, illuminating the night that persists. The madness ensuing, until I can no longer bear the exhaustion my mind has created for me and I fall. The sleep reminding me that tomorrow is what is uncertain. Every moment I live, breathing and going forward is one more day that he is gone. One more day that I am the greatest deceiver. One more wasted chance to correct the pains of the past.
And even with sleep the fight persists. I am forever haunted. He is there, waiting. Silent and horribly still. The look he gave me, that final moment. It is then, in my dreams, when I am not dreaming but merely reliving my memory over and over, I see him. I touch him. I tell him how horribly sorry I am, but I can never remove the dagger from his chest. It implanted so deep that even the darkest of magic could not eradicate the wrong.
So I wake, with his eyes still burning my soul. I wake to the voices still screaming in my ear, to the candles still burning out when they are meant to shine bright, to replace the morning star that I took. Ripped it from the lands, from all that was created, causing the unbalance. Yes, he is gone.
Azezyal returns, finding Korha merely moments from having woken, his concern greater. The expression grave which he carries.
“There is news. They have manned the seven arch angels in a great search for this realm. You are to be found and returned unharmed.
Korha shook her head, laughing at the absurd thought. “As if they could if they tried.” Her arrogance matching that of her Lucipher’s.
She had known what she was capable of doing. The only one competent of killing her was gone. He was lost. Forsaken in a cruel vicious betrayal.


Hehehe

Mark 2...hehehehe...torture!

Just a Clip...


The mirrors, I thought. The mirrors have become distorted, their view having gone from clear beauty to a sinister emptiness. I the reason the chaos has erupted in the heavens. I the reason nothing was as it should be. The light striped from all that is seen, all that was created. The jumbled voices in my mind louder in this place, the laughter unsupportable. The peace having been stripped from my soul the moment I took him, unknowing how linked he was to me. Repair the damage, bring back that which was forsaken, and undo the wrong. Could it be possible? And there in that question lays the whisper plaguing me. There in the thoughts lay the angry screaming silence. The need to face the darkness of the mirrors was evident by the pulling force which brought me here, but standing in the archway from what was once my room, to the emptiness that was once his refuge, caution I reminded myself. Finally stepping forward I felt the chill of his absence, the desire for his presence. Torn by the two I forced myself to walk, to make my way to the very place I caught him planted at so many times before. The mirror was large, and as I rounded its face, I became acutely aware of the insanity that was soon to curse me. His face, his beautiful features horribly set by the anger. His eyes set ablaze by something deeper yet then anger, Pain. The betrayal unforgiveable. That he had taken my soul both times, comforted me, consoled me and sheltered me and my actions treachery in his heart. The pain he felt was mirrored in my own soul. I had not wanted to destroy him, I had not wanted to prove disloyal, but the choices were not forthcoming. The outcome was this. I watched in my reflection the mar that could never be repaired. The madness and destruction of my soul was evident. The child growing within soon to be lost as well, for nothing could erase the mistakes. They would soon track my steps and lost would be all that was beautiful and whole. The tear I’d been holding fell from my cheek. And he, reaching out to catch it was faced with the hard edge of the mirror, the very thing that separated us. “My beautiful dark prince, what have I done” my whisper causing his rage, unleashing the beast. What was once my reflection, was now that which was my match, and yet he’d become no match at all. I shook my head and fell to my knees. I could not watch him enraged by my need for him, by my regret. And then, as the pain reached the deepest crevasses of my soul I heard him. The voices no more mangled in my ear.
“get up” his voice level. In disbelief I did as I was told. Looking once more to the mirror, it was him, his eyes clearer, his fury hampered. I could no sooner believe that this madness was real. I reached out and touched the cold hard surface of the mirror. “tell me” was all I could whisper to him.
“I will never forgive you princess of my soul, I will forever torture you” the deepness of his voice chilling. And with his grave meaning he was gone. Vanishing into the emptiness within. It was then that I knew he had become a part of me, it was then that I realized I would never be half of the pureness that created me.


Forever the great teaser!

Something from Book 4

<< Damn the memories that persist. The effect of running away was pointless. I thought I had been running from the feeling of failure, the horrid embarrassment of having my faults one by one pointed out by others who felt themselves above me. I thought that near someone who I trusted, all would be better, all would change. I was wrong. I was a fool to run to the one person I trusted, the one person who I’d ever needed. I went from being embarrassed to being lost. I hadn’t traveled three thousand miles from the pain, I traveled that distance to be cradled and saved. And in all that time, all those sleepless nights I went from forgetting what I left, to worrying about what I had. The fear seeping in that at any given moment it would all be taken away. I would wake up and realize that the amazing man before me was a façade, he would always and forever simply be a friend, and just as before all those years past he would leave me, choosing another.
Nothing will wash away the fear, and the idea of what possibly could, still would be the end of all that has been. So I sit here and watch as the wind brings in a storm, one that matches that of my thoughts. The wind playing with the hanging chimes, creating a melody capable of drugging one to sleep. The clouds growing darker, the shadows dancing across the fields of hay. I sit here rocking on the porch, holding my swollen belly, humming to the chimes as they play. We wait for him to come home, wait to feel his comfort, to feel the peace his presence brings. And as I feel the tender kicks of little feet, I realized that he will come home, he will choose me. I am everything he has ever wanted, since that night as children he yelled at me when I fell, that I had to be stronger, that I had to take his hand and get up, that we still had to keep going, that either way he would be there to hold my hand.
Maybe all I’ve needed this whole time was to finally get back what I’d lost ten years ago... I needed him to take my hand and tell me that no matter what we still had to keep going. That he would be there to hold my hand. I know that it will work because he loves me, not that he has said it but looking at all that has happened in the past few months I know. It’s hard to ignore when you live with your best friend. It’s simple to see in all the little things he does. A look can say so many more things than a word can express. >>>

if that isnt a teaser I dont know what could be...
A-

Family

Beyond all I’ve learned as of late, I seem to be receiving a hefty lesson on mortality. Not necessarily my own but the light beams in many directions. The reflection opening my eyes to those daunting questions I have always had. I would never openly admit that curiosity has me stunned. I found myself at the hospital today, visiting a family member. The visit was short but the point came across clear. The love and adoration expressed adamantly. It was not until my drive home between calls and texts that I realized the many tomorrows that I am blessed with and the lack thereof of others. I wanted to turn the car around and drive back to the hospital. To clear the air to all the many things that have never been said. I know that some things need not be said but still sometimes it is nice to hear. I have always been a firm believer that love is better shown by actions than by simply stating it. My faith took over and I kept on driving home. I recalled the happy face sunflower that the kids picked out and the little balloon that was propped up next to the flower on the window sill of the room. I could only imagine the facial expression that they would bring about when seen for the first time.
I want to say that my lesson was the importance of family, but I have a funny feeling that this lesson goes much deeper than that. It is not just how important family is, it is how you spend your time with them, it is the giving, the actions, the Love. I look at my life and feel a great loss of family connection. I long for the days as a child when there was never a doubt that I would see or talk to a sibling, cousin, aunt or uncle. I yearn for those family gatherings that fill the soul with good feelings. To visit our roots and extend who we truly are to one another. It’s become the same feeling I get with Christmas, a lost emotion that makes me feel empty. No matter how much I search for it, replicate actions from the past, the feeling is the same and ominous as ever. So many concessions made and to be made. And as much as I look at the solution and how simple it comes out to, the odds remain a bleak as ever.
The greatest and closest of families is held by one great force. Once the magnet is lost, the connection is severed. The great force could never be replaced, for its unique strength is the fingerprint that is family. One by one the little ones grow up and become their own great forces, forever foregoing their past. My lesson is accepting that I have become my own great force. My lesson is learning how to let go of the loved ones that leave us to the next world. My lesson is accepting that the eyes I see with now are the same as the great forces of the past.

The many concessions

Being a parent in the eyes of April.
Laugh if you will, as I often do, at my version of being a parent. From the day I had Adriano I became speechless at how the beating of my heart accelerated by the very beauty of a sleeping child held ever so close to my chest. The tiny fingers and toes that move slightly as they sleep. The little smile that creeps up on their cheeks when you think the day couldn’t get any worse. Every day that you fight the fears of what is to come, you know that it is all worth it because it is for them. The struggles and heartache that are faced are valued as life lessons, something that comes with the definition of parenting. The devastation that is felt when that little bundle of yours faces a fever or much worse, it is respected because our strength is what keeps them fighting. In raising Adriano I found that love is treasured more than being young and silly. Being a mom was the gift that someone, much wiser than I, bestowed on me. Little Michael added to the mix that laughter is much more reasonable than a headache and insanity. The bond of brothers, which I had never realized, was a reality all in its own. With my second borne son I was rewarded a new level of patience. With the laughter that ensued and the immeasurable arguing, I sought perseverance on the things that I would never understand, that I couldn’t control, and that I could never change. Forgiving so much more than any other thinking possible, accepting responsibility far more times than before. With two there is twice the heartache. The beautiful characteristics that little Michael has shown me has awaken my belief in music and sound. That little voice that hums along to a beloved song, even through the most painful of exhaustions and trouble of health. Blessed was I to carry yet a third most adored gift. Savannah awoke in me a maternal instinct that I had long thought lost. A child of my heart. Scary as it sounds, she is the little me that I had always hoped for. Strong minded, independent, and full of personality. Being her mother has taught me thus far that a girl is more fragile than first thought to be. It is not the volume of your voice that matters, it is the tone and the words extended. The little things will always matter, even when they seem ill ideal. The compassion, the caress, the smiles and tenderness always key. Being her mother has made me realize that the rose colored glasses are allowed to come on to tell a beautiful fairy tale. The crass and blunt nature of raising boys is not always the right fit for a girl. I have missed a vital element in this little blog. When I was 20, still young and naive, I was presented the possibility of becoming a step mother to a soon to be teenager. Laugh because being a parent to my own children wouldn’t have been any easier had I not taken this task head first. I fell in love with not only Mike but also of forever having a step daughter. Being a parent to her was an eye opening experience. I learned that thinking Outside of the box truly is important, even if it means that I don’t have my way. Assuming is bad because it goes against communication. Unconditional love is not given solely to the children you bare, it is given to those you care for. Their best interest should always be taken into account, because there is no room for selfishness in being a parent. The beauty of truth. The fundamental values of impenetrable honesty. The live by example rule. My choices and lack there-of, are the foundation of who I am. The ideal that being a parent signifies being your children’s role model.
Being a parent is much like the love that is shared. It is priceless. It cannot be replaced. It is not exchangeable. It is a bond that travels with you always. The many concessions that are made are acceptable because it seizes to be about yourself and on goes the days of little hiccups and sleepless nights.

The thudding

Let it out, that's what they say. Getting it off your chest is the easiest part. Well actually I have to argue that. Conversations, aggravations. The distance, the questions. all the convoluted questions of what couldn’t be. And still there was the connection. Ripped apart at the moment because some find comfort in the lashings they can give. The simple disconnect that seeps into the deepest meaning of understanding. The nothingness that follows is always the thudding in my chest.

Oh sometimes I scream inside, but never like now. The restlessness of all that goes on. How there was once something that made me think and now that is over. Gone, like a flash. The easiest thing for some to do, but never me. I grasp on to the faces and voices, holding on for dear life to the sincerity, the honesty. And when that is gone like now, when it is ripped from me, what is ripped with it is a fragment of me. Me who is strong, who is viable, who is deceitful to the eye. Nothing is as it seems. The eye is a jackal of character, always something that truly isn't.

You can see what you want. You can say what you want. You can hear what you want. But the truth is always there. We are only as strong as we when we fall, when we fail, when we are at the end of the road. We are only as strong as the one who reaches out and holds the frail hand in front of us, there to Guide us.

so we take our hearts, and our brains, we take our kidneys and our lungs and waste them. What does it matter if a damn doctor can't operate on the part of your brain that is gonna bust, what does it matter if there is no donor to give you a piece of her body, what does it matter if we cant breath anymore, the thudding will end and the heart will no longer ache for that damn connection. We will reach our hands out above and let ourselves be found by those reaching for us. The ones willing to give us strength and courage. The ones that don’t give up and leave us.

That’s what I didn’t say. That’s what I wanted to scream. Doesn’t make the thudding any easier, doesn’t make goodbye my top choice.

COSMO PETITION

Hi Everyone!!
Okay Folks...Its ON!! In case you don’t know me, my name is APRIL GUTIERREZ, author of MALICIOUS TRUTH. This is my Petition to have “Malicious Truth” put in Cosmo's Cosmolicious book section. All of us women know that spicy romance novels are the chocolate of our lives, and well, Men like to imagine the hotness in its content. I NEED all of my supporters and those who just want to see this hot sexy steamy novel in a leading women’s magazine. sign your name to this petition, pass it around, forward it, clip it, post it, blog it, bulliten it, link it, myspace it, facebook it, twitter it, and ask all your friends to help out.

You will have to create a free membership with Gopetition.com, it will take all of 30 seconds of your time.

http://www.gopetition.com/online/26391.html

If you Haven't Purchased Malicious Truth yet, Never fear...
http://jimsaminc.com/jimsam/bookstore/gutierrez.html
http://www.amazon.com/Malicious-Truth-April-Gutierrez/dp/098169148X/ref=cm_cr_pr_pb_t

Copy and paste this blog and pass it to EVERYONE you know and EVERYONE they know!!!
http://aprilgutierrez.blogspot.com/
I'm also going to create a Youtube video soon to go along with this ;) Spicen it up a notch!!

Thank you EVERYONE!!!
A

Darkness

The morbid thoughts that unfold, the uncouth things that pass thy lips.
Swarming are the ideas of how the face will pale whence the blood stops flowing. The moment the heart denies its vital beat to its longing host. How all that was will be no more. The last flash of light, the final memory. The brain will freeze and no more will the pain cause distress.
How we learn to cherish the breath we take when confronted with our mortality. The daylight will never be as beautiful as the one seen on your final morning, the sunset no more spectacular. The emotion of being in love no less erratic as the day you feel them slipping away.
How simple the act of expression is, how uneducated most are in its function. Scream it from every pore, every touch, and every tear that streams down a face. The words invalid if the action is irrelevant. Seeing is believing. The distance shows much more, its truth is in the absence. More accustomed to believing the ones that are visible, every minute of every day.
No more tomorrows, their existence uncertain. No more are the maybes and could have beens. It is now that matters, time being stolen in a cruel vindictive way. So the heart beats as best it may, thumping at all the possibilities. The should have beens lost in the past of regrets unspoken. The faces that haunt, the eyes that burn but the memory still moves forward. Etching precious gifts for the nothingness of tomorrow to steal.
Then it hits you like a ton of bricks. What is left behind is much more precious than all you’ve lived. Fight for every gift that you’ve been blessed with, every love that you have shared. And if tomorrow never comes you know that somewhere somehow that love lives on in the smallest of treasures.

Something...Small...New...

Time and time again I find myself back in the same place I started. De Ja Vu would be more welcoming if I believed that I wouldn’t be hurting at the end of the night. Staring out into the darkness, the tear streaming down my cheek, silently the prayer is always the same. The face that torments the night when the eyes are closed, the rain as it falls on the face washing away the tears, the heat from the sun as it does its best to warm. The moments that never fade. The kiss that still burns the skin. The look that never changes, its need evident every time. The goodbyes still causing so much pain, which never diminishes. I could almost accept that you’re not here, that I wouldn’t be able to turn around and feel the contours of your back, but I can’t accept it, I can’t accept that once in good conscience I had the one thing that made me tick, once in the crevice of my heart I was complete. Now, I have to be satisfied knowing that you are alive, knowing that someone else fills the void, while I sit here, my heart broken into a thousand pieces, never again allowed to love.
Time and time again I find myself back in the same place, mourning the loss of a man. Doesn’t make it any easier that time has passed. Doesn’t make it any easier knowing that I loved him enough to let him go. Look what it got me, nothing, years of silence knowing that I was the last person on the planet he wanted to be with. Years of wishing on a star that my prince would return.

The discussion of Soul Mates

One of the main themes of my second novel “Mark of the Manticore” is Soul mates. What does that consist of exactly? I have read and reread what the story entails and all which has gone into the connection which my characters share. But the true meaning in my mind may be more of a fairy tale then one exulted in reality. Of course the book is fiction, but what person doesn’t want to feel a connection to another person half way across the planet. To be laying on your deathbed and whisper “I love you” into the darkness of space and them just know somewhere in time and in space of distance that your last breath was spent on them. The heart wants what is wants and in wanting that it concedes to so many contradictions. To love that which could kill you, to need the touch that burns your soul more than the air you breathe. To be near them when so many things are against you. You would submit yourself; give up all the things in life to have one moment, one single precious moment to look in their eyes just to be assured they love you back with the same intensity.
The simplicity of a soul mate is that you never have to fight to get back to them. They are there when you need them most. Unyielding their nature to be with you, in physical form or in spirit, either way, by your side, giving you strength to do that which is in your path to do. Holding your hand in a manner that subsides any doubts that could have been. There is no such thing as enough is enough because tomorrow is the most uncertain thing in our mortal existence, tomorrow may never come and to them, waste is the passed moment where the feeling is not returned.
Soul mates, yes maybe a fairy tale but something I think we all want to find and experience, even if it is forbidden.

You Help is Requested :)

Still the content of Book 3 is being kept a secret but your help would be GREAT :)

Homework for my friends and readers :) ALL ANONYMOUS OF COURSE!!

LIST THE TOP 10 THINGS THAT ARE YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVES ABOUT YOUR PARTNER! BOYFRIEND, GIRLFRIEND, HUSBAND, WIFE, WHATEVER!! EX'S ARE OKAY TOO :)
ANYTHING FROM "FARTING IN PUBLIC" TO "NOT GETTING IT DONE IN THE BEDROOM"
:) HAVE FUN, AND THINK COMEDY, NO HOLDS BAR, ROLLING ON THE FLOOR LAUGHING OUT LOUD!

LIST FROM 1-10, 1 BEING THE WORST ON YOUR LIST

YOU CAN EITHER POST HERE OR EMAIL THEM TO ME...I WILL LET YOU KNOW IF I AM CHOOSING YOURS ANONYMOUSLY BEFORE IT GETS IN THE BOOK :)

THANKS AND HAVE FUN!!!!!!!!!!!!

THE L WORD

If its bad enough that most men don't know the importance of the L word, imagine a mother taking the time to explain it to her little boy. Imagine having to explain Valentine ’s Day to a child who thinks that it’s just another holiday to GET something. Well, I sat the boys down...looked at them...calculated what it was exactly that I was going to say to them. I should have known better. I should have written it down and read it to them, and come up with possible answers to the amazing things they would for sure come up with. It kind of went like this:

Me: "Okay boys...Let me explain something really simple to you...this Valentine’s Day I want you to tell your grandmothers and dad that you love them."
Oldest boy: "why?" annoyed that he would have to speak, much less be mushy while speaking.
Little boy: "What? We aren’t buying them chocolate this year?" scrunching his face like he was in pain
Me: "No chocolate this year, and anyways, saying you love someone is worth so much more."
Oldest boy: "I think they would believe it more if we gave them chocolate." rolling his eyes at me.
Little boy: "well can I have daddy’s chocolate?" knowing that daddy was sure to be getting chocolate.
Me: "what do you think money grows on trees?" instantly having a homer moment knowing that the little boy feeds off my sarcasm.
Little boy: "mommy...money does grow on trees...hello...paper...trees...money..."
Oldest boy: "don’t talk to mom like that...she won’t buy you the chocolate!"
Little boy: "yeah she will, I will tell her I love her and cash in on the rewards because "I LOVE YOU" is worth more than anything, ask daddy!"
Me: "you will do no such thing!" mad at the fact that they had turned a simple topic of conversation into a learned form of manipulation.
SO it occurred to me that men are not horrible people...it’s their damn mothers putting ideas in their head from youth. So now I think I will band the L word during Valentine’s Day...because just as most men feel, it’s a commercialized holiday meant to put the flower and chocolate business in the black. What I do have a problem with is figuring out why little boys know more then their fathers...

MAJOR BOOK REVIEW :)

***** A charming, realistic story about how things really are, February 6, 2009
By Midwest Book Review (Oregon, WI USA)

Ignorance is bliss, as so often those who find an unpleasant truth say. "Malicious Truth" is follows Ava as she deals with a world filled with lies and deception. When there is so much deceit surrounding her, she soon finds that a happy ending is almost impossible, and just admitting one's flaws is not enough. Imperfection and flaw is another major element making "Malicious Truth" a charming, realistic story about how things really are.

http://www.amazon.com/Malicious-Truth-April-Gutierrez/review/product/098169148X/ref=dp_top_cm_cr_acr_txt?ie=UTF8&showViewpoints=1

Something Really Old #1

The sun filtered through the window across from where I sat in the living room. It was close to four in the afternoon. The events of the day had bestowed a change in my world which had once felt so normal. The chimes on our clock began to ring and instantly the silence struck more than a cord in my mind. To begin with Love and end with confusion, the questions that followed for endless. All along the answers seem to be staring you straight in the face. The beauty of fidelity and trust, the awareness of strength and comfort, and the power of effort and compromise.
When a person concludes that life is to be shares with a soul mate, expectations grow from within their own heart. Soon a partnership forms between two people who share a special connection. The connection is Love. Love, which happens to be, by far the most confusing emotion a human being can experience. Love, which holds the power to make you or break you, for when it grows to its extreme heights, it can never, be forgotten. Nothing will ever diminish the passion that it holds. In no degree could anything possibly destroy the wealth that love brings to a soul.
When love engulfs two people in a realm of happiness, it is as if their future can be written. untold at first, life is leading us down many winding roads which obscure tests are thrown at us, bewildering us and the reality in which we live. Every turn leaving us to question the love that is held at the end of day. A person must come to grips with the fact that the love one feels for another changes, for it is as a comparison to the wind that blows and the every changing currents of the seas, rocking out existence in ever manner. At the beginning there is a giddiness and mysterious concept of our other person. Over time that mystery becomes partial to comfort and compassion. Even the passion of romance degrades itself with the unyielding ease of our other. The key is to keep the basis of initial love close at hand.
There comes a time in every relationship, rather it be a marriage or a simple commitment, when either individual is taunted by tempting choices. It does not take a skillful person to keep reality close in hand. Unfortunate but true to know that in reality, outside sources hold cruelty close in hand. There may be no other reason for the interference except that happiness is envied by so many. Everyone wants happiness, so when that simple emotion is unattainable, disaster occur. Sometimes we do not see the logic for we are blinded by sorrows and self pity for the failure in trials we have faced. We omit to realize that we are human and in being so, we are prone to mistake. To give up on a relationship that has history, without trying to compromise or even attempt sacrificing self-comfort for the one you are committed to, is more of a sin then to commit an infidelity.
There were once a few very unwise fellows who stated “it is better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.” Try it! For once the love that has been lost is gone, emptiness overwhelms. It engulfs your life, your heart, all the way to the pit of your soul, deep into the crevices where light has never touched. Of course there are also saying such as “when you love someone, let them go, if they return, your love was meant to be, but if they don’t you are better off. “ Or “the grass is always greener on the other side” “love is blind”
Every phrase was thought up by a self loathing individual who spent most of the time drowning in their own self pity. True love is not to be given up on. It is not to be forgotten. It is ridiculous to conceive that moving into a false life, a dream world, will bring happiness. There is no such place as “greener grass”, for if you nurture the grass you have always had, you will be blessed with the greenest and the most enduring.
In the end when you finally analyze the questions in your mind, what is left? The choices that you have given were worth nothing. The anxiety that was felt only made other emotions scramble for control. Then your control, which up until the moments before, were confronted by life’s joke called change, had not begun to falter. The abandonment of reason had continuously threatened a future, which at one point not too long ago, was filled with goals that were to be shared alongside that partner of yours. When all the questions become emotionally exhausting, it is sincerity that overcomes the insanity, thus allowing for the answers to flow appropriately. Always keeping close at hand the knowledge that “love always prevails”
If a matter is magnified to a degree that an end seems almost inevitable, giving up on a relationship is just as it sounds. You cheat yourself, leaving out real love based on confusion, leaving behind all that you had once built, all for fear of failing. The only answer is that you only truly fail when you give up trusting love. It is safe to say that not every question can be answered. It has to be also understandable that those questions that are answered with the truth may hurt such as a knife stabbing an already opened wound. Gracefully accepting one’s change and mistakes altogether strengthens a love by power of compromise and effort.
When the phone rang and woke me up from my deep trance of thought, reality came tumbling in. what had I done? I quickly got up and reached for the phone. The line had gone dead as I picked up the receiver. My heart began to question what I had truly transpired. This whole time the key to making everything right, the answers to everything you’d asked me were right in my heart. The fear swiftly shocked me as I replaced the receiver. Could one ever repair the damage caused when selfishness over comes our lives. The consequences which lead us to the only realization common for regret. “You don’t know what you have until you lose it”

Number 3

Well, with number 2 done and request sent out for that one, I have decided that I need a distraction, and what better distraction can I give myself then a new book. I started a few days ago but have only been able to dedicate a few hours because of school. BUT I am going to start full force in the next day or so. The clock is ticking, I want to complete this one in the same time it took to complete the others...see if I can beat my score on days, lol...so my typing will get a healthy challenge. AND if anyone is curious, it is another spicy romance but I will let the story stay a secret since its more of a punch line :)

The sadness that overwhelms

In life there are moments that we sometimes feel are unbearable...moments that our hearts break into pieces so small, that in the back of our minds we fear that there would never quite possible be enough glue to put it back together. Moments that the clarity of what is to come is shadowed by the ache that has consumed. Nothing dulls that ache. The music is not loud enough to deafen. The alcohol never does its required justice to intoxicate the senses. The sound of crashing waves could never drown the sorrow that envelops the aura of hurt. The nights are only silent moments of horrific memory and the dawn that brings in the unwelcomed rays of light remind us that we are here, left to continue on breathing and living. Unbearable are those moments, helpless and of uninvited discontent, where yet another dream is crushed into the oblivion of nothingness. The sadness that overwhelms seeks us out, testing our soul. The very souls that have been tested so many times such as this, it is more of the same. Keep moving, keep breathing, and Keep reminding your heart to thud against the bones that protect its priceless existence. What more do you want? What more can one give? The board is slowly clearing out, those paths unattainable now; the roads have been shut for so many smiles.

If you Breed a BullDog...



and a Shitzu...




Would the puppies be called Bullshitz?
hahahahaha

A Little Something to Say!

So I have something minuscule to say to those who come to this page which have either read or are reading "Malicious Truth"...I've recently been thrown a dodge ball in a direction of Author Hell. SOMEONE is under the very asinine assumption that I am the main character in this fictitious romance novel. The simple answer to that is No, Ava is not April Gutierrez.Very simple, very CLEAR. I know that as an author I will, from time to time, come across people who are curious and can't understand the simple basics of the imagination. That's kewl, especially considering they have yet to read my next completed novel, which is sure to piss some people off.
Back to the point of this Blog. I will NOT however be appeased with individuals who feel that it is within their ability to taunt, bait, or talk down my happiness and life with those assumptions they feel imposed on making. I do not hide behind a face of what is and what isn't, so someone blindly making an outlandish taunt behind the bushes of life should make sure they have their facts in order.
Don't make statements that sound like fighting words if your not ready to take off the mask and fight fair!
Oh and by the way...The Stalking needs to STOP!

LMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!