6 Things I’m Thankful For

First and foremost, Happy Thanksgiving!! I hope that you’re all having a wonderful Thanksgiving if you’re celebrating, but while we stuff our faces with all the ham, sweet potatoes, and pies, I just wanted to take the time to give things to the things I have in my life.

HEALTH

This is something that we all take a little bit for granted when we’ve got good health. It’s only when you have bad health is when you’re thinking about what you took for granted. I’m lucky to be healthy with functioning limbs. So I want to give thanks for having good health.

FAMILY & FRIENDS

Family can sometimes drive you crazy, but I do love my family very much. I also love my friends very much too. Many of them I’ve been friends with since my teens. But I’ve been lucky also with the new friends I’ve encountered in my adult life. One thing I know for certain is that I can always rely on my family and friends for support and that makes getting through life a little easier.

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Halloween 2015, we had only been dating for 3 months.

LOVE

I’m kind of private when it comes to my personal life (or at least sharing it online). But I feel blessed that a few years ago I finally met my soulmate (we’re currently engaged!). I spent my early twenties dealing with terrible relationships that I kind of associated love with pain. But it doesn’t have to be that way! True love will uplift you and not hurt you. True love allows the best part of you to shine, and I feel that I’m truly my best now with my fiance.

PASSION

Life would be quite dull for me without my passion for writing. I am thankful for my passion because it gives me a purpose and it also fills me with happiness.

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One of my pups, Nico

PETS

Even on a bad day, I love my pups who are always excited to see me. They instantly lift my spirits and are always so silly that they make me laugh even on the worst of days. I am thankful that they came into my life (I didn’t go to a rescue to find them, I literally found them on the streets).

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My book Bleed Like Me at The Ripped Bodice bookstore in Culver City, California

READERS

If you’re reading my books or you read my blog, THANK YOU. I appreciate my readers and am thankful that out of all the authors and bloggers out there you chose to read my work. An artist can’t exist in a vacuum without an audience and I am very appreciative of mine.

What are a few things that you are thankful for?

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Poetry: Not Missed If Not Departed

bloodgirl

The bathwater is turning scarlet red.

I wonder what you will think

when you will find me dead.

Never would’ve missed you if you hadn’t left.

Never would’ve loved you if you hadn’t said goodbye.

But very soon you will wonder why,

you abandoned me here to die.

One of these days,

One of these days.

The scent of blood lingers in the room.

Will my death bring you possible doom?

Never would’ve been obsessed if you hadn’t left.

Never would’ve loved you if you hadn’t said goodbye.

But very soon you will wonder why,

you abandoned me here to die.

One of these days,

One of these days.

This scalding blanket of vulnerability

Is giving me more security.

Never would’ve adored you if you hadn’t left.

Never would’ve loved you if you hadn’t said goodbye.

But very soon you will wonder why,

you abandoned me here to die.

One of these days.

One of these days,

You will miss me.

***

Did you enjoy this poem? You can find this poem and many others in Bleed Like Me: Poems for the Broken

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Poetry: The Way You Left Me

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I housed dreams in my heart

You used razor blades to tear them out.

Hope lingered on my lips

You bit down hard till they bled.

You left me bloody and empty.

In a world that wants us to be whole and pristine.

***

Did you enjoy this poem? You can find this poem and many others in Bleed Like Me: Poems for the Broken

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Throwback Thursday: Nelly Furtado – Try

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Full disclosure; I’m not a fan of Nelly Furtado (musically speaking, don’t have anything against her personally) and really loathed the song that made her famous, I’m Like A Bird. But, since the winter of 2004 was still a time when MTV played music videos (at least in Italy), I came across her video for her second single from her second album called Try.

The video was directed by Sophie Muller who just happened to be one of my favourite music video directors (she’s directed a lot of videos for Garbage, No Doubt, Gwen Stefani, The Kills, Mika’s amazing Grace Kelly, Hole’s Doll Parts, and a bunch of other awesome bands). In other words, in typical Sophie Muller fashion, this video is simply stunning.

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Now, I don’t know if Muller was inspired by the 2003 film Cold Mountain for the colonial vibes of the video (Nelly Furtado is seen decked out in a traditional Portuguese dress as she faces various hardships), but it did seem to have the same wintery pioneer rural life aspect of the movie.

But apart from the stunning video, what really drew me in were the lyrics. There’s something fatally tragic in the lyric, “Then I see you standing there/Wanting more from me/And all I can do is try.” Nelly stated that apparently it was a song about true love (although it’s very dark to me) and for me, it seemed more like a song about wishing you could please someone you love, but also knowing that you’re incapable of doing so for a myriad of reasons.

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Revisiting this song kinda took me back to that winter of 2004, which felt very dark and lonely. There were so many things in my life what I was uncertain about, and love was one of those uncertainties. Sure, I was in love with someone back then, but if you’ve read My Bad Romance series, you kinda get the drift of how most of my loves have played out (Spoiler alert: unhappy endings). The strange thing about music and scents is that they can take you back to places at times that you had purposely pushed back in the forgotten zone of your brain. And let’s just say, there’s a reason why your brain had pushed those memories back.

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But the song is still tragically beautiful, as is the video, and even fifteen years later I fell in love with it all over again. For the record, I never became a fan of Nelly Furtado’s music, but I can admit that this one was a little masterpiece.

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Book Review: Life of the Party: Poems by Olivia Gatwood

life

I’m a good girl, bad girl, dream girl, sad girl

Release Date: August 20, 2019

Order on Amazon

Publisher: Dial Press

Price: $11.90 (paperback)

Plot Summary:

Lauded for the power of her writing and having attracted an online fan base of millions for her extraordinary spoken-word performances, Olivia Gatwood now weaves together her own coming-of-age with an investigation into our culture’s romanticization of violence against women. At times blistering and riotous, at times soulful and exuberant, Life of the Party explores the boundary between what is real and what is imagined in a life saturated with fear. Gatwood asks, How does a girl grow into a woman in a world racked by violence? Where is the line between perpetrator and victim? In precise, searing language, she illustrates how what happens to our bodies can make us who we are.

Grade: A

Review:

Gatewood’s poetry collection is part memoir and partly inspired by True Crime. In each poem, she explores the meaning of becoming a woman and how men react to this sudden change from girlhood to womanhood. She also has an obsession with mistrusting men and believing that a man is going to kill her. Although, to be honest, what woman hasn’t thought about being killed by a man before? With the way True Crime depicts young girls and women always being victims of rape and murder, it’s no wonder that we grow up with this incessant paranoia. Her fear is very relatable if you’re a woman living pretty much anywhere in the world. Men abusing and killing women is a worldwide crisis and one that has only worsened over the years.

“Maybe I am tired
of hearing people talk about the murder
of girls like it is both beautiful
and out of the ordinary.”
-My Grandmother Asks Why I Don’t Trust Men

Gatewood explores the dark realms of her fears and tries to give voice to them through her poignant poetry. These poems are honest, raw, and sometimes quite dark. I recommend this book for all you that prefer your poetry to have a certain edge to is, but if you’re easily triggered then this collection won’t be for you.

*Thank you so much to NetGalley and Dial Press for the digital copy of this book in exchange for an honest review!

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Poetry: Kissing Asphalt

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Photo courtesy of arhiva.dalje.com

The clouds are coming down low.

I don’t know where I’m going to go.

The rock star ran off with my soul.

He wants it because it makes him feel less alone.

I’m kissing asphalt tonight.

But I should be kissing you.

Why do you keep on stalking me?

Writing songs about me?

Phantom lover who adores to creep

And peers from afar when I weep,

Has come prepared to take me out

With only a simple stroke of his mouth.

I’m kissing asphalt tonight.

But I should be kissing you.

My blood’s all over the frigid sheets

Highway 95 has tasted my flesh.

I’m going down on you and I’m not coming (up)

My naked skin timidly peels,

As the wounds turn into scars unhealed.

I’m kissing asphalt tonight.

But I should be kissing you.

He spoke of love, passion, and soulmates.

Of easy girls that never cry.

But he never spoke of Zura,

The girl who almost died.

I’m kissing asphalt tonight.

But I should be kissing you.

I’m kissing asphalt tonight.

And it’s as bittersweet as you.

*

Did you enjoy this poem? You can find this poem and many others in Bleed Like Me: Poems for the Broken

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Throwback Thursday: Andreas Johnson – Glorious

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1998-1999 was a golden age for music. Or at least I thought it was, seeing that many of my favourite bands came out with albums those two years that I not only loved but defined me, such as Marilyn Manson’s Mechanical Animals, Garbage’s 2.0, Hole’s Celebrity Skin, and Red Hot Chili Pepper’s Californication, just to name a few.

During that time I had also become a big fan Swedish singers, and Andreas Johnson came out with a song and music video that was absolutely thrilling, called Glorious.

The song was catchy from the very beginning and like most Swedes, Andreas Johnson was quite the eye candy (especially for all of us teenage girls). Now, the music video wasn’t crazily original (as it just showed him performing the song on some stage upon another stage and then in a bedroom in the company of a model-looking girl). Despite it not being a video that screamed with originality, there was something very sexual and sexy about the beautiful couple making out on a bed at that looked like to be dawn (maybe they had spent the whole night partying or they met at a club?) only to fall upon the bed in a shower of silver glitter. Back then, I was in full mode glam-mania (Manson had ditched his goth guise for feather boas and platforms as Omega in Mechanical Albums and the movie Velvet Goldmine was set in 1970’s London, heyday of glam rock had just been released). This was the time I used to wear glitter liner and star rhinestones at the corner of my right eye. I’m telling you, we were much cooler than the emo crowd.

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I can’t recall when it was the last time I had listened to this song but surely it was around 1999-2000 timeframe, because if you were living in Italy at the time (as I was), there was no way you didn’t her this song on the radio at least four times a day. The music video was in heavy rotation on MTV Italy too. So, watching the video and listening to the song almost twenty years later I discovered that the song is still hella catchy today, and you can’t help but be intrigued by the opening lyrics when Johnson croons, “Here she comes with a masterplan, and I’m starting to lose control.” Mind you, we never get to know what this masterplan is unless it’s referring to her seducing him (maybe?). And even two decades later, falling upon a bed of silver glitter still seems thrilling (forget rose petals! Rolling around in glitter that evoke stars is my fantasy!).

The song doesn’t sound dated to me (maybe cause it’s a love song), although I suppose the music video could be seen a bit dated. But honestly, it’s still way more exciting than videos most artists are releasing nowadays (the death of MTV as a music channel brought death to the music videos).

Glorious was an all-out fun, sexy song that sticks with you far longer than you think it should. Maybe because we’ve all fantasized about meeting a sexy stranger at a club to end with a dawn filled with passionate glitter sex. No? Just me?

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Poetry: Starry Eyes

lovemusic

Your neglect has managed to

Burst my heart into so many tiny pieces

That I was unable to recover all

The love that I bled out

I listen to your old songs about me

In hopes that I can feel that rush

I felt the first time that our eyes locked

Nothing could give me more joy

Than to feel

Remember when we had starry eyes

Our lips spoke poetry in every kiss

Remember when we had starry eyes

Our limbs resonated with music in every caress

I had a Kate Moss smile

Your nonchalance was so very James Dean

I read all the books you loved

If only to see the world from your perspective

My whole essence breathed you into me

I’ve never been the same again

There’s a hole in my chest

Where all my love for you resided

Remember when we had starry eyes

Our lips spoke poetry in every kiss

Remember when we had starry eyes

Our limbs resonated with music in every caress

What kills me

Is that I remember everything about our days

Together

What kills me

Is that I can’t recreate that feeling of starry eyes

With anyone else.

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Notre Dame: When a Burning Building Brings Back Memories

notre dame

The first time I visited Notre Dame I was eighteen and four days into my relationship with my soulmate. We had gotten together earlier that week in London and when he invited me to a notable party which back then such a gesture would be equivalent to becoming “Instagram official.” Our love was passionate and raced at a speed that would make even Lewis Hamilton a little motion sick. I had been to Paris before because I have relatives that live there but never taken the time to actually visit the city. Besides, isn’t visiting Paris with a romantic partner the epitome of Romance?

So when last Monday I heard the news that Notre Dame was burning I was filled with a sickening sense of dread. I couldn’t bring myself to watch the flames engulfing the building on TV, I didn’t want to think about all the art that was at risk at being lost, at the building itself collapsing. It was simply too much. I couldn’t imagine Paris without Notre Dame. As someone having a degree in Classical Letters, Victor Hugo’s iconic protagonist Quasimodo lived in the cathedral and was tasked with ringing the bell, and it horrified me to think that this literary location would only become a distant memory, conjured when reading the pages of The Hunchback of Notre Dame.

As my phone exploded with Twitter updates, I couldn’t bring myself to read them. I was too afraid of any of them confirming my fears. I was fraught with anxiety, almost feeling like someone who had been informed that a loved one had been critically hurt and you’re miles away and can’t do anything to help. Finally, on the point of despair and tears, I texted my ex, the one whom I had visited the Cathedral and stated, “Have you seen the news about Notre Dame? I’m in tears.”

I didn’t consider at the time that he may be sleeping, seeing the time difference, me being in California and him in London. But despite that, it wasn’t too long before he replied back with, “I did. I’ve been crying all night.”

And suddenly it dawned on me why this building out of any other building meant so much to me. It’s a building that had witnessed the beginning of my love story with my soulmate and seeing it burn only made the fact that our own love had gone up in flames hurt even more. As if reading my mind, my ex sent another text, “Remember when we visited it together?”

How could I ever forget? Pieces of ourselves had somehow fused within that Gothic structure because the pain was so visceral, so raw, so real.

“I remember. We were infinite.” I texted back.

“Don’t be said,” he replied. “It’ll survive. Nothing that beautiful will ever truly die.”

I couldn’t bring myself to ask him if he had meant the building or if he had meant the ghost of our younger selves, huddled against the cold Parisian wind in a long-ago February standing on the Bell Tower and thinking that anything was possible.

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Poetry: Tonight, Tonight

*April is National Poetry Month, and thus I decided to share one of my poems from Bleed Like Me: Poems for the Broken. 99% of the poems collected in the book were written during the ages of 13-22 years old, so if anything reads too tragic or overdramatic, now you know why. And rather to censor or edit my poems with adult hindsight, I left them raw, obsessive, and dark.

*

Tonight, tonight, you’re falling so behind

I see you trembling—

Feeling left on the side.

Tonight, tonight, you’re crying all your tears

I feel your pain—

Drowning in your despair.

Tonight, tonight, you’re growing so distant

I see you shriveling away from me—

Scorning my stoned affection.

Tonight, tonight, you’re scrapping at the floor

I sense your frustration—

Slapping me across the face.

Tonight, tonight, you’re running out of time

I see you walking out—

Letting go of any part that belongs to me.

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