Coffee Chats w/Amie (E.2)

*pours coffee and invites you to sit down*

Well, we’re back to have coffee. I wasn’t sure if you’d be free . . . or to be honest if I would be free. But here I am! Alive and well, and about to head off to work.

A lot has been on my mind. In fact, I wrote something in my head the other day, and maybe I’ll add it here:

Dear convict,

Do the last ten months continue to drag on? After a sentence of eighteen years, do the last ten months cling to you, reluctant to let change take it’s place? Are you terrified of life outside of your cell, but you want more than anything to be free and alive. To be something besides the shell of a human you are.

Do the last nine months whisper eternity? After proving to yourself that eighteen years is just a blip in time, do the last nine months roll on like the credits before a movie? Are you tired of counting each hour the clock ticks? Or are you spending each moment capturing the last bits of this reality you now know?

Do the last eight months whine forever in your ear? After eighteen years of silence, does the noise just suddenly appear? Are you worried that the world will be too loud for your brain, or are you happy for once that you’re brain will have competition again?

Do the last seven months burn your soul? After eighteen years of ice are you ready to be whole? Do you shiver when the flame comes close to your skin, or do you reach out a grab it, relishing the burn it begins?

Do the last six months laugh at your misery? After eighteen years of sorrow, they just won’t let you free. Each moment you’re still stuck in their vice like grasp, and you’re wondering if this is a dream or if it will really last.

Do the last five months spring over each other? The hope that began is now forever and ever etched in ever dream that echoes in your heart. Creating something for you to watch fall apart.

Do the last four months snicker at your fears? After eighteen years of hell, what else do you have to fear? All who care about you are waiting to welcome you home, but you’re still dwelling on the action that took you far from them.

Do the last three months tighten your chains? After eighteen years do they continue to drain and drain everything you have left for the life you’re about to live, the world you’re about to meet, the family you’re about to be free for?

Do the last two months echo empty praise, promising relief from the eighteen years that have snuck up towards this day? Is there ever a moment where your breath just stops because for the first time in eighteen years you realize your life will no longer stopped.

What about the last thirty days? Each sunset and sunrise of eighteen years have lead to this day, but you still wonder what you’re going to say. Who will you hug when the bars are gone? Who will you love once your chains are sawed off?

And the last day? Does it feel real? Eighteen years. Twenty four hours. Freedom at last.

It’s taken me almost a month to write this post, lol. It’s 2:18 in the morning as I write now. I’ve been so sick the past week, thanks to allergies, so each day I’ve slept for around 15 hours. It’s like my body was on overdrive just to keep me alive and breathing, so in order to do that, it just had to keep me unconscious.

But tonight I’m awake.

I’ve been thinking a lot about knowing yourself. Can you ever really know yourself? Can you know what is best for the person you have to take responsibility for? Can you actually know you’re strengths and weaknesses, can you see who you are, not the person you want to be taken for?

I don’t know.

I wish I did, because it would make life so much easier. It would make each decision so much nicer. No second guessing because you know. You know what’s best and what won’t help. You know the direction of your life, there’s no need for regret.

I wish that was life. And maybe it can be life. If it can, I’ll try to find it.

But for now, I make coffee and tea for a living, come home and try to write novels and create music when I’m not sleeping or eating.

This summer has been empty of the summer vibes that you long for, but I think I’ll always look back at the summer of 2021 with a smile.

It isn’t the pool/sunscreen/watermelon/gardening days of years past. Instead it’s so much exhaustion you can barely peel your eyes open. It’s laughter as you sing off key with your coworkers. It’s learning, growing, stretching, and smiling.

And that’s a good summer to me.

What about you? How’s your summer?

~~Amie~~

No. . .

I’m afraid of no.

I’m afraid of the power it holds over me. It’s a sword to wield, something that glistens when the light hits it. But when it is hidden, it isn’t seen, simply felt. I don’t know how to use it, this powerful word. I don’t understand the impact it has on me, yet not on the rest of the world.

No is a rejection, a refusal, a rebuttal. No is a sucker punch that steals my breath and rams my chest. No is a force that cannot yet be seen. No is something I can’t handle.

I skirt around it’s corners, chasing things but never committing, because all along my fear pins me in place. I am a butterfly on a cork board, a dream stuck in a dream catcher. A spider has woven me a cocoon, and yet it hasn’t protected me from the knife that stabs my ribs.

No.

I try to use this power on others, waving it to and fro, but instead of intimidating, I injure myself in their stead. My enemies smirk when I try to stand and hold. My family simply shakes their heads because I simply cannot say no.

I wound myself in the place of others. My chest tightens and expands, waiting for the word to come. Sometimes it is hidden in a rejection, the words flowery and sweet. Sometimes it is a flat denial, slicing butterfly wings.

Regardless of what form it comes, it always does the same thing. It clutters up my mind and destroys what I want to be.

I’m afraid of no.

Those nasty two letters. I’m afraid of something I can’t control, the words that no one stutters. But I shouldn’t fear the boundaries others put in place. I shouldn’t fear being told there isn’t room on their plate.

The problem is that I don’t understand why when those words come from my mouth, they don’t mean no?

No sometimes is not honored if respect isn’t in place. No isn’t honored, and so I’ve accepted my fate. I pick up a foot and smile at the crowd. But instead my heart drums one single sound.

No.

I’m afraid of no.

~~Amie~~

Let Me

My heart is heavy as I watch the lights reflect off the road.

My eyes are tired as the moments grow old.

My reflection is a mirage, keeping secrets untold

Minutes flick by on an old radio.

Sickly sweet perfume lick at my feet

People keep talking as I retreat

Leave me now, let me entreat

The words that float towards me in a sea.

Weight on my shoulders pins my head to the ground

Every whisper mounts as the world grows loud

Groaning that tugs at my fragile heartbeat’s beat

Let me fall, let me fail, let me be me.

Coffee Chats w/Amie (e.1)

*lights the scented candle in the middle of the table and sets a coffee mug in front of you*

Today we’re starting a series on this blog, and I’m calling them Coffee Chats with Amie, where I share my heart, and hopefully impact yours at the same time. Today the weather is awful, so I’m so glad you came anyway. There’s tea and hot cocoa in the back, in case you’re not a coffee drinker. So make yourself comfortable.

If you follow me on all social medias, you know I’ve been inactive a lot lately, and if that’s concerned you, thank you. No need to bother your little head over me, but I appreciate it more than you know. Life is a strange thing. Sometimes you feel the need for it to just stop, but you can’t make it. There’s nothing about life that you can grab and force. It’s just a whirlwind that keeps going, sucking your breath from you and forcing you to your knees.

Okay, okay, yes. That’s dramatic. I am an artist, after all. You have to expect some drama from me.

But truth be told, I’m struggling. And you might be, too. That’s what this blog has kinda become. A place where I want struggling people to find hope and someone relatable, hence this coffee chat. In this world of covid and unrest, it seems as if there’s no way to connect with people, especially when it was crazy hard even before all this stuff. So I’m taking a moment to write this, so we can connect. So we can chat in the comments about the topics in this blog post, so that you know you aren’t alone.

*sips coffee*

I honestly don’t know how to follow that up. 😂

I guess it just shows that life isn’t an essay. It doesn’t have an informative and intriguing introduction, it doesn’t always have a clear and full middle. And it almost never has a good conclusion. That’s why I write. Because I can control that. I ca give myself a lovely introduction, and my middle can be as full and as clear as I want.

And the conclusion?

I can write any thing I want.

Control is a strange thing. In a really good song by an amazing artist (yo, NF fans!), there’s a line that says “I wanted to control things and in the end that’s what controlled me.” Each human being on this planet is searching for some emblem of control. That’s why the teenage girl has an eating disorder. That’s why the almost twenty-year-old boy cut his hair and wants to dye it. That’s why the parent is being hyper critical, and there are so many other options.

But I guess control is ironic because liberty means freedom from control, and freedom means . . . being able to do whatever we want whoever we want. (i.e. in control). We can never feel freedom unless we have no one controlling us . . . yet we always want to control ourselves.

What a mind twister.

*sips coffee*

The world around me seems so silent as I write this. People are driving by the house, going on to do whatever is next planned on their Saturday afternoon. My keyboard clinks as I type, and I just know one thing.

We need Someone to control us.

I could ramble on and on about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness in the chat, but I don’t think I will. I hope you come next time to Coffee Chats with Amie.

~~Amie~~

I’m Not Aiming for Nationals

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I’m not aiming for Nationals.

Some of you might have heard of the National Bible Bee. If you haven’t, it’s basically a competition where you memorize Scripture on a certain topic, and it’s kinda like a spelling bee in a very different way. Last year was the first year I did it, and I’m doing it again this year.

Last year, my biggest dream was to get to nationals. When that dream didn’t happen, I promised myself that this year I would work as hard as possible and get there. And get as far as was humanly possible.

If you had told me a year ago that I would not be doing my absolute best in the Bible Bee, if you had told me that I would be okay with not taking the test at the end, I would have told you that you were crazy.

Amie? Not doing her best? Amie, not putting in 110%? Amie, not killing herself to win a competition? Is she still Amie?

My whole life, I’ve been the most competitive, I’ve been the obsessive, workaholic, child who has ten projects all at once. The thought that one day I would decided to let a competition slide without throwing heart and soul into it is out of character for me.

But I’ve slowly been learning that giving 110% of your energy to ten different things gives you less reward than giving 35% of your energy to three important things.

And I’ve just lost my whole audience. 😂

Trying to give all of your energy and attention to everything is the quickest way to burn yourself out, and the best way to do a terrible job at everything. In life, we need to put all and everything into the most important parts. Of course, at times it can seem like everything is important, and that’s when having set goals helps us weed down the important things in life.

Memorizing God’s Word is so important to me. But winning a competition to prove that I’ve stored God’s Word into my heart? Not as important. Would I still love to compete and win? Absolutely.

But through prayer and just evaluating my end goals in life, spending 6+ months preparing and devoting most of my energy to this competition isn’t what I need to do with my time or life. So is that a dream? Yes. Is that a goal? No.

Dreams and goals can look very similar, but in reality, they’re very different. Two dreams of mine are winning the National Bible Bee and playing a certain character in an audio drama. Are they goals? Nope. Are they going to happen? Nope. What are my goals? Some of them are building this blog, publishing books, helping people and ministering to them. Am I working towards this? Yes. Is it going to happen? Lord willing, yes.

Goals are more concrete. They’re the things you should be putting all your time and effort into. They’re more solid, they’re things that you can see yourself doing for the rest of your life, doing despite setbacks, pain, and failure. If you simply have random dreams in your head, you most likely will never achieve them.

One of my favorite books is Ishmael by E.D.E.N. Southworth. In this novel, Ishmael is born illegitimately, and spends his childhood shunned by his neighbors and hated by his aunt. That sounds pretty bad, huh? But that didn’t set Ishmael back. He didn’t just pursue whimsical dreams (Oh, maybe someday I’ll be loved. Oh, maybe someday I’ll do something better than starve.) Nope! Ishmael had a clear goal, and he pursued the pathway to reach his goals, despite setbacks, personal emotions, injuries, and at times, discouragement.

Set your goals, and strive for them.

Perhaps you’ll reach your dreams while you do that.

~~Amie~~

A Medley of Opinions

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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~~

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~~

Write Now

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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~~

 

Creating Coffee

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~~