Author: Amie

A Medley of Opinions

| Amie
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The Amie Anne Board of Directors™ hard at work

The Amie Anne Board of Directors™ were surfing through the blogsphere as part of the daily job. (Amie is still trying to get more of them to comment on blog posts, so if you haven’t had a comment from Amie on your post in months, pardon the neglect. It’s been hard for the board to keep up on all things in the social media bubble.) As they were surfing, they noticed that there has been a trend going around.

And it has to do with something that we stay far away from on Amie Anne, due to Article Four of Protecting Amie’s Privacy Act. (PAP’s Act for short.) After a very heated and long board meeting, the Amie Anne Board of Directors™ have made an exception for this one post, and today, we will be talking about the trend on music.

Why people have suddenly decided to share playlists, why people actually want to hear other’s opinion on music, and why the world would like to let such a personal cat out of the bag are topics we will be examining in this post.

Please remember, as it says in Article Three of the Amie Anne Public Relations Statement, that all these answers are based on said incorporation’s opinions, instead of solid facts in the way the world works. Without further adieu, let us begin.

Why Have People Started Sharing Playlists?

From my research, playlist sharing is a common thing to do when you have no words for a photoshoot. Such bloggers often release a new playlist at the beginning of a new season.

It appears that blog readers love to see that the person behind the words has the same tastes as them. In a way, this brings the reader a false sense of closeness and familiarity with the blogger, and perhaps strikes up interesting and beautiful discussions in the comment section.

It has been noted by the Amie Anne Board of Directors™ that the comment section of the posts have rather been lacking of late, which ended in a filed complaint at Amie’s management of this here establishment. Regardless, this is us acknowledging that anything that strikes up reader interaction is a valuable and good thing to do.

which may or may not be why we are doing this post.

Why Do People Want Other’s Opinion on Music?

To Amie, music is extremely personal. It’s something that she prefers to keep to herself, which is why she rarely listens to music without earbuds. Creating music is just as personal, and usually discordant, so it is absolutely not allowed to be shared.

But there are other people in the world who enjoy people agreeing with them.

Here Amie took a break to eat pizza and she found this hilarious parody on Bad Guy, called Good Mom. 

Also, if you have never heard a song, and someone who has good taste recommends it, you’re probably more likely to listen to it. The Amie Anne Board of Directors™ recommends all of the VeggieTales songs. The beats are so sick, and the lyrics are deeper than most people realize.

Also 10/10 recommend The Pond’s music. There’s something about Floyd’s voice. It just hits the spot.

Why Let the Personal Cat Out of the Bag?

Here, every human has a different reason to discuss their personal opinion on music. Some might have the desire to show the world amazing artists, some want to fan over an album, others to encourage those around them.

There’s no bad reason to share music. There’s no bad reason to keep it yourself. It’s simply a personal preference and what you feel comfortable with.

So never join a trend unless you feel comfortable. As much as people on social media love likes, followers, and views, what’s most important that you continue staying true to yourself, and that you are always comfortable with what you post.

In behalf of the Amie Anne Board of Directors™,

~~Amie~~

Humor and Coffee

| Amie

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I tried to come up with something funny to blog about, I swear I did. All my humor has been drained from my life and painted in my world. actually I might be writing a comedic short story, and that’s what’s stealing my humor. Screaming children, yelling, and general mayhem that causes me to crawl back into my mind with a hurry hasn’t bothered me the past few days.

Grant it, I don’t expect this to always be the case, but ya know, enjoy it while it lasts.

Also, the weather has been extremely finicky lately. It was so balmy and happy, but I think it stubbed its toe, so it went down to the 40s again. But I’m not complaining. Stub your toe more often, weather, if it gets us such beautiful variety.

I have been either extremely motivated, staying on track and getting everything done, or just reading all day. It seems to rotate. My brain loves work. It craves work, deadlines, the thrill of almost failing, but if I don’t have the last two, I really like sitting still and reading or doing nothing and just staring at the wall.

Not healthy behavior, staring at a wall, but it’s so interesting to get lost in ones thoughts. Or to just sit there and do nothing.

Coffee has been tasting especially delicious, and I received a box full of new tea flavors for my birthday. That caused quite a few squeals, and I have enjoyed sharing the tea with my mom.

We had the first watermelon of the season and it tasted heavenly. Warm, watery, sweet, and crisp. No hate, but people who can eat soggy, bright red watermelon confuse me. I personally prefer crisp, pink watermelon.

Today, my whole day was lit up by receiving a snailmail letter from a blog reader. So sweet of them to write! ❤

The sky is so blue, it makes me want to just become a part of the sky. I’ve always been bummed that I have brown eyes, since blue is my favorite color. It’s kinda worse in my mind, because my dad and half my siblings have amazing blue eyes, and I got the brown eyed genes. *sighs* But when my eyes look red, I’m not quite so mad any more. XD

Of course, since I have my mom’s eyes, my dad always tells me that he thinks my eyes are the prettiest thing about me. Think he’s a little biased? XD

Banana bread has become a staple in our house, don’t know why.

This post is getting even more boring.

You see, I went to a place where people existed for the first time in two calendar months. (I lost count of weeks.) (Actually, I lost count of everything, lol.) And now I’m kinda like, wow. Insanity has set it. And I’ve lost it all enough to just ramble about nothingness.

So pardon this post.

I’m a bit frazzled.

~~Amie~~

It’s My Story

| Amie

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I’ve been growing. 

I’ve been looking back at my past and seeing how it’s changed me. Seeing why I am how I am, and how I can change myself. Not because I don’t like myself. No.

In the past year, I’ve begun to love myself. No longer hating the pain and anger that sits inside of me, no longer hating the face that was given to me, no longer mad about the body that I call mine, no longer ashamed that I’m me.

I can go back and read past blog posts, smiling at who I was then.

And I can go back five years and tell myself it wasn’t my fault. I shouldn’t feel guilty for refusing to see my grandfather four days before he died. I shouldn’t feel guilty for not hugging him the last time I saw him. I shouldn’t hurt because at his funeral I didn’t cry.

God and my grandfather know that I loved him. And I’m proud to be his granddaughter. Proud that I had a grandfather with such a story.

Instead of feeling the pain of my twelfth birthday, I can remember the beauty of the bouquet my father brought me. The moment I hugged him, soaking in his warmth and the clean smell of the hospital. He had made it, he was here to celebrate, even if it was a only for a few hours.

Instead of basking in the things I missed on that birthday, I can relive the tears that rolled down my cheeks when people from my church surprised me. Because they actually cared, because this was a good reason to let all the tears out, a time I didn’t have to be strong.

I’ve been patching up the relationships I destroyed in my desperate attempt to control my life. I’ve started releasing my fears. They aren’t all gone, and it’ll be a lifelong journey. But in the past year, I’ve been taught one thing.

I’m not in control.

I’m just in for the ride. So why hold on with a vice grip, when I can just lean back? I know that my God is only planning things that will be good for me. Sure, the good might hurt at times, it might bring tears. It might even feel like too much.

But God always gives you strength. Sometimes that’s only enough strength to lie in bed, sometimes it’s only enough strength to sob on the floor. Sometimes it’s enough strength to get up and run. And sometimes, it’s enough strength to soar.

Comparison should never be allowed to enter your mind. Because your journey, the amount of strength God sees fit to give you is uniquely yours.

God has written a unique story for each of us.

I would never wish to have someone live my past, and in order for you to be me, you would have to have that. Never compare yourself to me, to others, to the people around you. You don’t know what they’ve gone through, and it’ll only ruin your own story.

If you don’t have both eyes on the road, you’ll never know the difference between good and best. Live your story, my friends. Embrace it, love it, understand the beauty, and do your very best.

Your past might be sad, your future might be rocky, and the present might be dark, but God promises that though there are tears in the night, joy will come with the morn. ❤

~~Amie~~

Weird: Amie Anne

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Hi, and welcome back to Amie Anne. Today I am doing something that Enni inspired me to do. I love Wired, seeing celebrates answer questions about themselves is hilarious, because half of the time they have no idea that those questions are even asked.

I, however, am not a celebrity. So I have not been asked to be on Wired, and probably never will. So, for the sake of those poor unfortunate souls who want to do fun things, but can’t because they’re not famous, welcome to Weird!

I’m your host, Amie, and today the lovely Amie Anne will be answering the Google Search suggestions on Amie.

first off, we start with how amie . . .

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How Amie? 

How to you too, folks.

How Amie Harwick died?

Hmm, not sure that this has anything to do with yours truly, or the next one, so we’ll skip it. XD

How emit works?

Well, this is rather simply. You just let out a sound, and you emit it. It’s rather simple to get it to work. My computer keys are emitting right now as I type.

Amie how many years?

That is a question I ask God every day.

Amie how to apply?

I’m glad you asked. I’m assuming you’re wondering how to apply my blog posts. There’s a slightly different strategy for each post, but here’s a simply strategy that should work for most post. Think over what I say, give it at least five minutes of deep thought, ignore all grammar and punctuation mistakes, and do whatever I tell you in my post.

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What Amie?

I agree. What, Amie? I have no idea what I’m doing or saying, so we’re in the same boat.

What Amie means?

Amie means female friend in French, so basically any time you say my name, you’re calling me your friend. 😉

What Amie exam?

The Amie exam is a tough exam that you must take a long time to study for put on by yours truly. It tests your knowledge of history, YouTube, music, writing, and life. If you’re interested in taking this exam, just let me know in the comments below.

What Amie mean in french?

First off, French has a capital F, and second, I just told you up there.

What’s Amie in French?

It’s simply amie. *shrugs*

What Ameil means?

*nerd moment* Ameil is a variation of the name Ameel, which means “God is my kinsmen” in Hebrew.

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When Amie?

When Amie is a wonderful piece, pathetic and full of mournful qualities.

When Amie result will be declared?

You will be told your result on the Amie exam within 48 hours of the time it is submitted.

When did Amie Harwick die?

When she stopped breathing.

When was the Amiens Cathedral built? 

In 1220, in France.

Aimee Spencer Geordie Shore?

*takes off my sunglasses and looks at you* Bless you.

When was Annie released?

Before I give you the answer, we need to take a moment to let out a deep breath. I know, I know, a quick glance at Amie, it might look like Annie. BUT my name is not Annie. Anyway, Annie was released in 1982.

Thank you so much for joining me on Weird, Amie Anne!

No problem, Amie. It was certainly a pleasure.

That’s it for this issue of Weird, tune again some other time to hear another person answer Googles Suggested Searches.

~~Amie~~

Never Say Goodbye

| Amie

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They say time heals all wounds. But he was finding it a poor painkiller.

 

Tyler Collens has seen grief and loss in his years of experience as a paramedic—but he never expected it to touch his life in such a personal way. The death of his wife eighteen months ago shook his steady world and changed him in more ways than he can count. Time and routine have steadied his feet, and he looks toward the future as he raises his infant daughter—but the past has a tighter grip on him than he knows.

 

Alyvia Emmerson has never been certain of who she is or where she belongs. Her dad’s abandonment as a teen broke a fragile piece of her heart, but ten years later, she has moved on. Living on her own, she at last has a project to devote herself to: revitalizing a shabby bookstore. But she didn’t count on her dream job revealing the shattered pieces of herself she thought mended long ago.

 

In this sophomore novel featuring beloved characters from Live Without You, Sarah Grace Grzy explores themes of grief, hope, and second chances in a story that touches both the heart and spirit. 

Since the moment Sarah Grace Grzy first announced she was releasing a second book, I was on the edge of my seat for more information. Sarah Grace’s Instagram is one of my favorite accounts, and I love Live Without You, so I was beyond thrilled when I heard that Never Say Goodbye‘s release date was just days before yours truly’s birthday.

Because that meant someone would buy the book for me. they didn’t, and I forked over my own money but that’s besides the point.

I was honored to be able to join this tour, and write my own review of this story, so if you’re ready, I am.

I started the book, unsure of what to expect. I knew it was about Tyler (one of my favorite characters from Live Without You) but I wasn’t sure what was going on, the exact plot of the story, or how long it was after Live Without You.

I finished the book in one day.

That should be a testament to how amazing this story is. It took me two pages to be sucked into the tale, and it took four hours for me to finish the tale and give all the characters hugs.

Sarah Grace deserves a long round of applause from everyone. Not only from her remarkable story, but also for how much work she’s put into this launch, this story, her Instagram, and just connecting with readers. We need to take a moment of silence to thank her for all of this.

*moment of silence*

Now onto the actual review. I must say, I was a little hesitant about Alyvia and her dad. Just. Hmm. Dad abandonment issues with a young adult? But the tale is perfect, which was astonishing, especially with all that was going on with Tyler and Murrae.

Seeing Ezra and Piper as parents about melted my heart, to be honest. 😍

The pacing of the story was smooth, I was immediately drawn into both Tyler and Alyvia’s problems, and all the little kiddies in the story made it so much better! Plus, the beautiful little bookshop felt like home with such vivid descriptions. I could picture everything, down to the crockity old customer.

The romance was super sweet, but never anything to make you uncomfortable. (Not giving any spoilers here, I promise. 😇) It was easy to understand both Alyvia and Tyler’s motivations, their fears, and their desires, and ah, I was totally cheering both of them on.

The tragic events never seemed unrealistic. It was just like, well, that’s life. It’s full of its ups and downs, and sometimes it feels like it when it rains, it just pours. So overall, I would rate this story five stars.

It surpassed my expectations, and that is hard to do, m’friends.

Now, you’re asking who Sarah Grace Grzy is? Well, let me inform you.

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Sarah Grace Grzy is a voracious reader, and if it weren’t for this crazy thing called ‘Life,’ she’d be tempted to spend all her days in front of a wood stove, book in one hand, coffee mug in the other. A lover of learning, she finds enjoyment in many things and has more hobbies than she knows what to do with. Sarah Grace is a freelance web and graphic designer, and when not working, spending time with her ever-growing family, or reading, she can be found painting, playing the piano, or fangirling with her sisters and friends. Sarah Grace inhabits the State of Great Lakes, and wouldn’t want to live anywhere else—unless it meant she could have a baby penguin, in which case, she’d gladly move to the South Pole.

Where can you buy this lovely work of art?

Amazon

Barnes and Nobles

Book Depository

Indie Bound

If you’re interested in the giveaway, check it out here.

Comment below if you’ve read Live Without You, and tell me if you’ve already pre-ordered Never Say Goodbye, or if you’re planning to order it.

~~Amie~~

Write Now

| Amie

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I wrote a post on Wednesday or Tuesday.

I don’t remember because all the days are just running together.

Basically it was an angsty letter, mostly targeted to people or person who know me in real life.

Because of that, I deleted it, and yeah. It’s history. But if you read it, thank you for reading it, and I want to address one thing I mentioned in the post.

My writing.

I don’t usually talk about my writing on here, because I hate being that person who’s like, “So, I’m writing this book and maybe someday you’ll read it, maybe someday you won’t.”

that person is aka younger Amie.

But I thought that it might help my inspiration and excitement to just talk about this topic, and go through what my brain is thinking. So, I started this year with the idea that this might be the year I actually roll up my sleeves and get into the publishing world.

I had a phone calls with different people, and everyone seemed to agree. I had a good story, it seemed as if my writing was pretty good. I mean, sure, I had a lot of rewrites, but that’s okay.

Around February/March, people started piling more critique on my writing. I was telling too much, my characters aren’t sympathetic, my character was too perfect, the dialogue was unrealistic . . .

And I think it was just too much food for my inner critic.

In any world, you need to learn to take critique and shift through it, understand it, acknowledge it, and move on. But instead of doing that, I’ve just kinda let it take over my mind. Every time I sat down to write, I dwelt on it.

Oops, that paragraph told too much. That character is so stupid, no one will relate to him. Man, she’s way too perfect, gotta fix that. That was the cheesiest piece of dialogue. 

And so I would write one paragraph, delete it. Write another paragraph, delete it. Write a third, and give up. So each of my projects have been doubted, hated, disliked, and I’ve started to wonder if I should even write.

Obviously I’m just a disgrace to the name of writing.

That’s not true. No one is a disgrace to the name of the art they pursue. Because every artist begins as a beginner, and the more hours you put into it, the better you will become. So please. Never be discouraged about your art. There’ll always be people better than you, and people worse than you. Your job is to try and get as accomplished as you can.

And that, my dear, will be a life long pursuit.

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So what am I writing? I’m glad you asked.

I’m rewriting a novel I’ve been working on since July or August of 2019. It’s a Contemporary Beauty and the Beast retelling, set in sunny California. This book has become my baby. I have so many snippets of before, after, and just silly things that I’ve written about these characters.

Literally everything. I have snippets about them eating chocolate pudding, to a novella I “accidentally” wrote about them having children. XD

My alphas have been the most amazing people in the world when it comes to this project. I was so excited to write it, and now I’m trying to find that excitement again. If you’re interested, you can take a peak at the Pinterest board right here.

I’m writing a short poetry pamphlet at the moment. It’ll hopefully have 15 poems in it, and it’s name will be the strikingly unique name of Fifteen. Because I’m so original. 😂

I’m also writing a stress-relieving project that has no planning whatever, and I’m only doing it to get back into the habit of writing what I think, and to practice the craft. It’s nameless, but it’s about motocross and a musician. I personally think it’s adorable, but that’s just me. XD The main character, Courtney, is just so funny. And the color theme of it is green.

don’t ask me why. but knowing the color theme helps me get into the mood. XD

And lastly I’m outlining/plotting a dystopian novel that has been rethought out a million times because I keep getting more and more critique on it, and I’m trying to make it the best version of itself that I can, which is making me extremely confused about the message of the book, the characters, and the story altogether.

*flops*

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But I’m still really excited about that, and TWO other things!

*throws confetti*

First of all, one of my favorite authors, Sarah Grace Grzy, launched her second book today! I’ve already read it and oh my heart, GO BUY IT IMMEDIATELY. You will never regret it.

(I’m going to be coming out with a review on it soon, so hang tight. 😉 )

Besides, the cover is so beautiful, and Sarah is a master writer, so stop trying to decide if you should or shouldn’t. You should. You really should.

Secondly, I was honored to be a guest on a podcast! I was able to talk about what helps me during my struggles, and how it’s okay to not be okay. (basically everything I say on this blog. XD) As I’ve already said, I was really struggling this past week, and just hearing myself say things I know helped me so much, so I would encourage you all to go listen to that podcast HERE and follow the Precious and Redeemed podcast!

Do you guys like posts like these? Do you want more writing updates/advice/I don’t know what, just something on the theme of writing?

Have an awesome Saturday, and enjoy this May weather.

~~Amie~~

 

Poppins Pop In

| Amie

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Mary Poppins looked me up and . . . up. Considering how tall I was to her small, 5′ frame, she basically had to stare straight up to the sky to meet my eyes.

“So you’re the child I’m supposed to babysit?”

Wow, so this is what Poppins is really like? Her hair is pristine, as well as her clothes. Unfortunately, she doesn’t carry an umbrella. When I had asked her about that missing piece to her outfit, she laughed and asked if I really thought she still traveled in that impractical way.

Impractical it might have been, but Mary Poppins without her umbrella is like me without my cowboy boots. Or peanut butter without jelly.

Actually, it’s more like jelly without peanut butter. Team Jam all the way.

“Child doesn’t exactly fit.”

Snap. I forgot short people can kick you in the shins. I swear, their aim is deadly.

“Watch your words, dear. Just because you could rival Big Ben in height doesn’t mean you can sass. Fifteen going on sixteen is still one hundred percent a child. I mean, look at you. Stick thin, hardly any curve. You’re definitely still a child.”

Biting my tongue is an accomplishment of mine. That is, until the volcano of thoughts pops the top and spills in burning inferno out of my lips. But that’ll be awhile before it happens to Mary Poppins.

Or maybe not.

“Why are you here?”

“Oh, you don’t know?” Mary’s perfect brow quirked towards the ceiling. “Hold still as I measure you.” She balanced precariously on the bed as I held perfectly still, her measuring tape examining me.

Ah, her famous measuring tape. Since when has the height of 5′ been practically perfect in every way? I don’t believe there’s an ounce of magic in that stupid thing. Mary herself admitted to using Uber.

“Tsk tsk, extremely stubborn and suspicious? Well, I shall have to keep my eyes on you.”

If you ask my opinion, Mary’s eyes are suspicious and stubborn. Much more so than mine.

“As I was saying.” Mary bustled around the room. “I’m here to help you.”

“Help?” The laugh was stuck in my throat. “What are you talking about?”

Mary’s eyes finally meet mine again. “You should know, you were the one who asked for help.” Her delicate finger touches her chin. “If I remember right, you were on your bedroom floor, crying, and you said you couldn’t do it anymore.”

The heat creeps up my neck and across my cheeks. “No one was supposed to see that.”

“Or hear that? Tsk tsk, you should know better than that. Whenever your soul cries from it’s uttermost depths, someone will come. You just have to have the bravery to see them.”

“People are scared of you?” Yeah, shocked, too. I mean, the miniature nanny is kinda tough looking, but people afraid of her?

“You are an artist, a creator! You should know if no one else knows, dear.” Mary shook her head, on the verge of tsk tsking again. “People are afraid of what they cannot understand. And my darling girl, people cannot understand Mary Poppins. Oh sure, some have tried. Jane and Micheal Banks have become heroes of childhood tales. But even Jane grew afraid. Afraid to take the medicine, afraid to laugh to the ceiling. Even afraid to feed the birds.”

In one swift moment, Mary was in front of me, jabbing her finger towards my chest. “But you. You are not afraid of what you cannot understand. You are afraid of reality.”

Ouch. I totally wanted my fears to be spoken to the whole world. And the whole world consisted of the sleepy cat in the window sill, and the puzzled dog at my feet.

“So, I am here to help you understand that reality, in it’s own way, is a figment of the imagination. The figment of an unimaginative imagination. One that has been oxidized to desecration, one that . . .”

Oxidized to desecration? What kind of description is that? Would it stand in Chemistry class?

“Excuse me, did you hear a single word I said?” Mary’s hands rested on her shapely hips as she tilted her head, sideways and up.

“Uh . . .”

“For the love of the chimney sweep! You got hung up on the blasted oxidizing, didn’t you?  And you claim to be a writer. What has the creative world come to? It’s about time you went on an adventure. Besides, we need you.”

Need . . . Me? I think I missed something here. Wait, she’s opening that bag, the bag I’ve always hated?

“Are you ready to travel, my dear?” Mary’s red lips corked upwards.

“Travel?” Man, why did my voice have to squeak?

“Mm. You certainly did miss everything I just said. You are needed in the creative world, child.”

“Me?! But I’m the least creative writer, artist, you name it! I think you have the wrong girl.”

Mary’s smile was more alarming than any other response. “Child, did you paint this? Write this poem? Create those videos? Your music, that one song you put your soul into because you aren’t afraid like you are on the others?” Her accusatory finger pokes at me again. “You have it deep within, you are just afraid to let reality see the kind of human you are inside. And that is part of the reason we’re leaving.”

“Part?”

“Since you weren’t listening, you’ll have to find out once you step through the bag.”

“I’m not –”

“Mm. Yes, you are.” Mary’s eyes twinkled as she stepped back. “I know you. You think you can resist the curiosity, but you aren’t that strong. This is a story to write, a painting to create, a poem to pen, and a song to sing. So step through, and experience it to the full. I’ll be right behind you.”

Glancing over my shoulder, I took a deep breath. Trusting Mary seemed like going against my gut. But since when had I ever followed my gut?

“Alright. Just once.”

Because I didn’t want to end up on the floor. Not again.

So I jumped.

Into the dark.

~~Amie~~

We are Complicated

| Amie

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I am a collapsing star.

The night sky whirls around me as I fall, creating a unique masterpiece behind me, wishing something would stop my breakneck descent. Wishing someone would understand, that underneath all the fiery gas, there’s an ice cold heart that needs some love.

I am a flickering flame.

One moment alive, one moment strong, the next vanished from sight. Oxygen is needed, but also feared. What if I grow? What if there’s nothing to fuel the fire that is my soul? Will I always warm people, and yet keep them at a distance? Is there no way to subdue my soul? Is it’s always all or nothing?

I am a dripping stalactite.

Moist, cold, dangerous. Any moment able to collapse on someone’s head, always reminding them of my presence by a ceaseless drip, an annoying patter. Hidden from the light of the sun, embracing the darkness and living with others of my kind. Yet, solitary and growing, not letting the silence bother my own song.

I am a slice of mica.

Beautiful to those who take the time to dig through the grime to find me, yet not precious to those who look towards what the world says. Thin, fragile, yet strangely resistant. Reflective, showing the world a screwed picture of itself, hoping that someday it’ll see that it’s opinions aren’t always as they should be.

I am a diving eagle.

Swooping, talons reaching. The water skimming beneath my feet, the prey firmly clamped. Food, freedom, and fresh air growing my feathers and my independence. Selecting my certain friends, but still soaring alone, there is no reason for me to be afraid. I am the the top predator.

I am the mole.

Hiding away from the real world, embracing the grime, worms, and darkness of the world in which I live. Squinting when I reach the sunshine, wondering why anyone would want to live in the harsh light. The dirt is so soft, so cool, it is everything that I am used to. And yet the sun still has a certain, burning charm.

I am the rain drop. 

Falling far and fast, landing softly on the parched earth, allowing myself to be totally soaked up. No longer my own person, no longer free to breathe, too busy trying to help heal your pain. Lost, parched in the process, too moldable, too eager to fill your empty cup.

I am the guard dog.

Sniffing out danger, protecting my people. Hating when they don’t listen to my warnings, hurting when they’re hurt. Silly people, if they just trusted my nose, we’d all be happy. My bark is silent, my bite devastating, don’t push, don’t pull. Stay away, no one will be hurt, no one will feel the strength of my jaws.

I am the whispering wind.

All my problems, too shy to tell those around me, so I’ll just move the leaves, whispering through them. Can you hear the plea between my words? The pain beneath my jokes? Are you soothed by my gentle words? How did I find the words to say to ease your pain if I have not been through the pain myself?

And yet, though I am all those things,

I am still

~~Amie~~

Creating Coffee

| Amie

Hello, peoples and random robot reading this.

If you’re anything like me, you love coffee. And regardless of what some people say to you, you refuse to believe that coffee, when had in moderation, can hurt you. So, as soon as a coffee fad appears on the internet, and you have nothing to do but try it, you try it. Because who doesn’t want to try a new coffee recipe?

So, I tried the whipped coffee.

Because I’m unconventional, I put the whipped coffee in coffee, because who wants to be drinking milk? Not me. Live dairy free.

actually, no. drink milk, and support the cows and dairy farmers. It’s important, okay? Okay.

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The first thing I did was put some water in a measuring cup, and pop it in the microwave. I put it in there for like, a minute and a half, but I think a minute or less should be fine. You just need it burning hot.

Then, I took one tablespoon of instant expresso, and half a tablespoon-ish of sugar.

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Sorry about the bad quality. XD

Once the water was boiling, I put a tablespoon into the bowl, and mixed it with the hand mixer. People say you can do it by hand, but seriously. That would be work, and who has time for that?

Whip it until it’s like, I dunno. Kinda a creamy color, and has the constancy of fluffy slime. (The fluffy part of fluffy slime, not the stringy constancy of fluffy slime. 😂)

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During this whole process, I had the coffee maker creating me a delectable cup of coffee, made with fresh ground coffee. (But the beans weren’t fresh, ’cause #socialdistancing.)

ANYWHO.

I decided I wanted this to look like a Starbucks drink. So how do you create that kind of beauty at home without any of the tools? My friend, you have plastic sandwich bags. Of course, this technique doesn’t encourage the no-waste lifestyle, but during such a dire time in history, we must excuse this one lapse.

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I stuck all of the fluffy goodness into the bag, and carefully created this beauty. And to finish it off? Chocolate syrup.

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And now I shall go crash, because the caffeine and sugar have worn off.

See ya

~~Amie~~