THOUGHTS

People; we as a human race, seem to write more when we're depressed, alone, sick of life, sick in body, or struck down. Do we ever stare up at the endless sky and feel as your spirits slowly lift? Miraculous how a small word can mean so much. I venture to soar, to see the most exquisite corners of the world and awe upon them. But for now I'll explore the surroundings in the limits I can expose myslef to. I love all that is pure; like rain, grass, animals: nature. If I can foucs my attention on all this and all else that brings a smile to my face, if I foucs and trust in God, than I can survive. I can slowly pick myself up and walk away. I can be strong enough to be able to look back and not cry, to succeed, to strive, and to love. I want to thank any who has truly loved, respected, and helped me see this truth. People that have held my hand, people like my soulmate Consuelo. And small people that don't yet know the capability that one look offers, people like Chanel. Or people that have unknowingly and constantly have held me together, people like Karla. Because of this and more I go on. Because of them I love me.

So two days ago was Teaser Monday and I didn't publish any teaser... But it can be Teaser Wednesday right? I talked it over with my partner and she doesn't really agree I should blog it out...But I sort of really want to. Plus, I promised... So here it is, with my heart on a thread: as promised... The first paragraph to one of my favorite chapters in the story I am writing....





Chapter 7 the Iron Mountain



A steamy breeze brushed up against Dan’s right cheek and her eyes searched through the thick cloud of smoke that concealed everything. She squinted her eyes and coughed her way through the thick and gray space between her and the beautiful cries of a creature she yet did not recognize. She walked closer to the flames that burned deep within ashes in the ground. As she focused her confused eyes on the earth the cries got louder and ever more beautiful, the siren like call beckoned her to kneel so she could see clearer.

Dan knelt down beside the dirt and stared deep into the black and silvery, gray ashes then froze, the fiery breeze made her eyes teary and her breathing heavy. With every breath she took, she could feel how the smoke filled her lungs and made her weak, but she could not leave with out knowing where the elegant howl came from.

The ashes began to move inward revealing the most beautifully, hypnotizing creature she had ever laid eyes on. Red feathers like the flames that burned at its side emerged out of the ground and stared at her with mesmerizing eyes which were surrounded by a patch of black fur. The bird had a long neck that extended over his graceful and stretched out body, every feather was like satin and it shined against the blaze. The bird bowed at her then stretched out his feathers and gracefully bounced off the ground before it disappeared in the night sky.

She looked up and searched desperately but the night sky revealed nothing but an empty blackness along with its fellow shining stars. She felt empty and alone, she looked down toward the ashes and softly said out loud…


“But it was dead, I killed him and it was dead.”

It didn’t make any sense to her, she placed her hand over her heart and felt how it drummed inside, begging to see the bird once more, she did not mean to harm it and was happy it had survived, but how?...

Teaser Monday

If you read some of my stuff below you will know that I am a paranoid character. Yet I struggle every day to seep through the delusional thoughts and since I have no followers I am desperate! LoL...I have decided to post a small, short paragraph belonging to one of my favorite chapters in the story I am writing. YES! I know, I know....who convinced me?

Well the simple fact that I am a Google freak and I somehow feel it will help to let some very small, tiny, micro portion of it out. I HATE to boast, yet I feel compelled to share that many of my family members, including some friends, believe that I am an excellent writer. Unfortunately I cannot find to call myself a writer unless I my work gets published AND that people both enjoy and like it. (different things)

Some of the things I have NOT found Googling is that of a true, honest agent. Who knows? Perhaps this can help...DARE TO DREAM!