Family of Crazies

Every family says it about themselves. “We are such a crazy family.” I don’t know how to explain to you all how batshit insane my family is. This is not me lashing out on my family, but merely an observation. I have closely observed this species for 18 years of my life, and I have come to the conclusion that everyone is crazy in their own way. It’s a big family too, and I’m not even going to count the little ones. We all have these psychological disorders that we simply joke about, but I think everyone in my family needs their own personal therapist. We all have our very own impulse-control disorders. Oh yes, disorders such as Dermatillomania (skin-picking). My sister, my cousin and myself have that. Just constantly trying to correct something on your skin that isn’t there. Trichotillomania (hair-pulling). I have that and so did my little brother. Everyone has mood disorders. I’m a big one in that department with just the everyday mood swings. I would consider my big sister bipolar with excessive mood swings. My grandmother has major depressive disorder. I have crazy paranoia, but then again so does my grandfather. My cousin and my mother are incredibly obsessive-compulsive. Avoidant personality disorder? We got it! Dependent Personality Disorder? Don’t worry about it; we got you covered! You want Borderline Personality Disorder? Step right up, we hand that shit out!

Of course, none of us are diagnosed and I don’t think we even need to be, but that doesn’t mean we’re not 100% crazy. I don’t mean to take personality disorders lightly at all, because I know people who actually have them and have to live with them, I’m just merely pointing out the bizarreness that is my family. We’re all so close and everyone needs to know everyone else’s business. There is no privacy. You have to fight for it. And almost all the women in my family are dominant figures, so I kinda have to fight for my place there too. I also didn’t want to scare anyone with this post, because the fact of the matter is that with all the crazy, and the fire, and everything else that makes our family…there comes an immense amount of love, and care, and nurture. It’s a family that can’t ever be broken. A kind of family that will never lose touch and just continue to grow bigger and bigger. It’s hard to come into this family as a boyfriend or a girlfriend, a new husband or wife, because you will be met with a whole lot of passion, aggression, emotion, doubt, wonder, secrets, but the thing is…if you are just as psycho as the rest of us…it will be a match made in heaven, because you’re not just marrying the girl or boy in this family, you’re marrying the family…and that is a big commitment that many have shown they weren’t ready for. There is so much talent in this family: artists, actors, writers, athletes…So you better be secure with who you are, because you’re up against very skilled individuals who just want to see what you can bring to the table.

More than anything, it is such a blessing to be a part of this family of crazies. You’ll learn more, you’ll laugh for more and most importantly, you’ll love more, because in this family of psychos, you are cared for.


Bernard Pivot Questionnaire

I’m a big fan of Inside the Actor’s Studio and if you guys haven’t seen any of the interviews, then I suggest you go on Youtube type in your favorite actor/actress and Inside the Actor’s Studio. Its a lot of fun to watch and you learn a lot about your favorite actor. The host, James Lipton is a professional when it comes to interviewing the stars. He knows what questions to ask, when to ask them and all in front a group of film students. He does so much research to prepare for a single interview and each question indefinitely comes with a long, fascinating answer. At the end of the interviews, which usually last for an hour, Lipton conducts a questionnaire thats consists of 10 questions. 10 very simple questions that teach you a lot about a person’s…well, personality. After I learned about these questions, I started using them whenever I felt it was necessary. On first dates, during random meetings with cute boys on the holidays, basically whenever the ice needed to be broken. It really does the trick, because the answers lead to stories which lead to long conversations and an eventful date/encounter/meet cutes etc. It has helped me a lot in providing interesting conversation so if you guys are ever on a date and there is that infamous awkward silence…whip this questionnaire out. You’ll be happy you did! Or not…depending on the answers.

So, since I do this questionnaire for everyone, no one has actually ever done it to me, so like the recluse that I am, I shall give myself the questionnaire. And so you guys can see the questions!

1. What is your favorite word?


2. What is your least favorite word?


3. What turns you on (creatively, emotionally, spiritually etc)?

Inspiration; an inspired person

4. What turns you off?


5. What is your favorite curse word?

Fuck or Sheni Deda Vatire 

6. What sound or noise do you love?

The light patter of rain on a tin roof

7. What sound or noise do you hate?

That sound of complete silence. It’s so quiet that you hear a ringing…No? Just me? Okay. 

8. What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

Travel Journalist…maybe…I don’t know…I have a lot of ideas. 

9. What profession would you not like to do?

An accountant 

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

“I had a blast with you!” 

And that’s the questionnaire everyone! You can ask your friends, your significant others, random people on the street and you could even leave your answers in the comment section for this post! I’d love to hear your answers!

Hope you all had a good weekend 🙂

Off Course: Just a poem…

I lost myself through the alleyways.

No path to follow, No destination to reach.

The sky was my canvas, with no moon in sight.

I knew I was robbed, but put up no fight.

I wandered; I stumbled but never fully recovered.

I had no wanting, no desire of any kind.

Fell headfirst in a pile of mush

Gut wrenching, soul taking sloppy slush.

I was no one. A shadow lurking the streets.

Looking for names. Not playing games.

In my hand, I hold a smoky friend.

Its feeble light, giving me strength.

The smoke darts through the frigid air

Mixing with smell of gasoline.

Companions who together create a blend.

A blend that takes a sickly cough out of me.

In the mush, I grow my roots.

A drag of Smoky, pure satisfaction.

I cozy up to the rotten fruit.

I am nonexistent, invisible, a true mute.

Fears and Dreams

So, my sister and I were talking about dreams tonight, and the role that they play in our waking lives. Personally, I am a big believer in the importance of dreams and how they have these significant messages to them. My sister is the same way, if not more and we got into talking about our dreams. She dreams constantly, vividly and intensely. Maybe, its because of the shit she has gone through in her  life. She has always been this creative, free spirit, but after many disastrous events in her life, I think she started to become a dreamer. I guess that helps when reality really sucks. For me, I haven’t gone through too much and, I don’t really dream. It is said that a person has 4-7 dreams in one night, but I never remember a single detail. Until summer began. During the year, I’m a robot. Wake up, go to school, study, go on the internet till I’m about to fall asleep. Then do it all over. Dreams just didn’t happen for me, but now that I’m back in my home country, its crazy how well I remember my dreams. I told my sister about this one nightmare that I had a couple of days ago. I was trapped in what seemed to be my school. But at the time, I didn’t know I was trapped, but then I awoke from the trance and realized that the people around me (including myself) were brainwashed and didn’t know it. The people who were brainwashing us were among us, acting like our fellow peers. After that realization, I spent the whole dream trying to escape the building, but everyone’s mission was to stop me by either manipulating me or torturing me. It was terrifying. I became claustrophobic and extremely paranoid. I couldn’t trust anybody because I had no idea who was on my side. (No one.) Finally, the most graphic image I remember is me, running up this huge marble staircase that seemed to go on forever, with these people running after me, up the staircase. It took ages until I burst through the doors and ran outside. That’t it. That’s all I can recall, but after I told my sister about it, she was blown away how symbolic it was. Then we did some research. My favorite site for dreams is: and on this site we found that “To dream that you are walking up a flight of stairs indicate that you are achieving a higher level of understanding. You are making progress into your spiritual, emotional or material journey. The dream is also analogous to material and thoughts that are coming to the surface.” This is exactly what my sister said before we even looked up my dream. I think it’s a very accurate definition because that is what I planned my summer to be about. To focus on myself and really move into the next stage in my mental, spiritual, emotional life. The brainwashers signify my life back in Atlanta. I’m cut off from anything creative, because there, there is nothing that makes me feel inspired or creative. I feel locked down and at times, claustrophobic. This summer is a much needed summer for me. I just hope I can accomplish what I want to accomplish. I can’t define it for you, but I know what it is…and I know I need it.

If any of you have these crazy symbolic dreams, I suggest you visit that site I wrote about in this entry. You’ll be surprised at how relevant some of the information you read can be! Also, any bizarre dream stories you’d like to share? We’re all crazies here.

Response to Movie: Like Crazy

Do you ever think that there is just one person. One person. One person out there for you? If that’s the case, then I guess we can all count ourselves as royally fucked. Isn’t there like, 7 billion people in the world? Rule out the same sex. Or don’t rule it out. Whatever is your preference. Rule out anyone you think is worth ruling out. You’re still left with a shitload of people. ImageMaybe you go your whole life, never meeting that person. But that person is out there. Living life, breathing air, moving forward. They are laughing, crying, and dealing with their own problems. Problems that you might never even know about. Another scenario is that you have met that person. But you’re just too blind, too stubborn, too fucking stupid to realize that, “Hey, you’re my person and I’m yours. Maybe this is worth a shot, no matter how crazy it sounds.” The worst scenario is that you had your person, and you let go. You let go, because you think that the person for you is still out there. Living life, breathing air, moving forward. Are we really that oblivious to see that the person you had was your person. They were living your life and breathing your air and moving forward by taking every step that you take. We create this image of who we think we deserve in our heads and just stick to it, tenaciously. I don’t think we, as human beings, are capable of forgetting about what we want. We’re selfish and we’re screwed up. If we have an ideal person in our minds, then how will we ever find happiness? We settle. And settling is viewed in a negative way. But what’s so bad about it? If we are comfortable. If we are happy. Why hunger for more? Are we that greedy? Are we that unsatisfied? When we have it. And by “it,” I mean…I actually don’t know what I mean. I guess, none of us do, and that’s what kills us. We all search for “it,” and if, by some miracle, you think you have found it, why do we sabotage? Is it because we think that even “it” is not it. And we keep searching. We are all wanderers of this world. Just plucked in. That’s it. No explanation, no goal, just a “figure it out, kid,” and so we try. Some more than others, but we all try and it keeps us moving forward. Some give up easily while some are steadfast. Plowing towards the “it.” I guess, rambling doesn’t look too good on me, but what I’m trying to say is that if we find happiness, why do we choose to let it go? Because we think there is a better sort of happiness down the road?