Monday, September 29, 2014

You don't know the half.

If everyone could spend a day in my body, I'm pretty certain everyone would question absolutely everything they've ever been told, or have grown to believe.

When I was born into this life as April Washko, I tried to go back immediately.

My Mom told me this story today about how I refused to eat. Absolutely refused. She said she could see me, as a couple week old infant, trying to form adult words to communicate with her.

She said, "I thought I was going crazy, but I just knew it. You were so small, we could see all your veins.. You refused everything with a strange comprehension."

I know my last lifetime I spent as a Goddess. *shrug* They use the title, not me.

I guess... The best way I can describe it is... I knew I was learning. I knew I ascended, learned about humanity... It's like, I was in the super charged Lifeclass. I know I was a Guardian Angel, and I know who's Angel I was. I know it was like living in the most beautiful cluster of stars and sunsets ever.

I know I was really fucking historical in Egypt.

I know I died on the Titanic.

I know I was a prostitute on the riverboats back in the western days, I believe.

...now how in the fuck does a human being live with that knowledge? All of this shit? 

Souls carry over. Every soul inside every human gives them all the abilities they've ever been made to believe are fake on those 'supernatural' type television shows.

I wish they would have sent me over with a manual on being human.

I feel like a computer that's running 400 programs at once.

I don't understand it.

This blog has been brought to you by a conversation I just had with my Aunt. She and my Uncle have always been the only two people who have always believed me. Who have never questioned me like I'm some idiot. Who have always treated me like an adult.

My Aunt asked me, "So, what's up with your dead friends?"

I told her about everything I can remember. So on. Pretty much the same stuff I've been typing here in some sort of organized venting process.

My Uncle has been gone for several years now, but I remembered a conversation I had with him when I was super young. So, I asked her, "Couldn't Uncle Harold do this a little bit?"

She laughed and said, "Sweetie, it was more than a little bit."

I believe I've typed our conversation here before. How he dreamt of Heaven, or wherever you'd like to call where we go when we die. 

He even dreamt about 9/11.

"He was very embarrassed and ashamed of it." My Aunt told me. "He never talked about it because of his fears about other people's judgements."

God, I wish he was still here. 

If only people knew.

I don't like being human. I really don't so far.

Like I remember my Uncle Harold saying to me years and years ago... I know what it's like, and I just wanna go back.

It's easy there. It really is. Easier than being human. I liked being in limbo. I liked guiding others and looking over people. I'm good at that. 

...I hate this crap.

I feel like a pouting child in a corner who wants to play when no one wants to play.

Haha... That's pretty accurate.

I'm working on patience; and finding the peace in the inbetween. 

Holy shit, my annual reading with my highly qualified medium friend is just not coming fast enough.

Really it's like a therapist for enlightened beings.

Most people live day to day. They don't hear anything, or see anything. They don't see and recognize messages or guidance. They can't follow a sign. They won't. They don't see people and just know things, or meet people and just know things. They don't sit in quiet and feel like they're not of this world. Not because they're sad or upset, or because they're better or anything. Just because they look around and live in experiences when even their best friends don't get it. At all. One bit. 

No one does. 

...& who even believes it?

It's not like the world is made up of Andrea's & Jim Clancey's. (Did I spell that right?)

Something must be going on. Somewhere.

I've been getting an unusually overwhelming feeling of displacement lately. 

...is there something going on with the moon, or...? The fuck?

Maybe I'm slipping into restful anxiousness....? 

That may be it.

I'm doing what I always say I shouldn't, and making excuses. 

...I still always do it anyways.

There are people out there I'm destined to meet. 

There are things I'm destined to do.

So much, so much to do... Destined to happen and be.

...am I the only fucking person who gets that? 

Who knows that and couples everything else with it?

Who can see everyone else's messages, and gets frustrated with absolutely everyone for not following them? Or seeing them?

I'm only human, right now, after all.

So much that I must patiently wait for.

...ugh...

I don't know why I decided to be born with life on 'expert', but I'm angry at whoever let me make that choice.

Do they have meet-ups for people like me?

*sigh*

Welcome to a small fragment of the shit show that is my brain/soul/intuition. Rolled up into a tight ball of questions and confusion. 

Jared always said, "You are the most fascinating person I've ever met."

You don't know the half, sweet cheeks.

You don't know the half.

Ramblings. Second installment. Check.
 

Ramblings

Life isn't easy.

I've never said that, and I won't ever believe it.

I've arrived at a conclusion about it, tho, that may be pessimistic - but - maybe not.

I've had a lot of loss in my life. Second verse, same as the first. Shitty childhood, abuse, drugs, blah blah.

The loss in my life has been so drastic and impactful, it's hard to not form some new opinions. Potentially from having to develop ways to cope that don't involve drugs or anything like that. Which, is fucking hard.

Kyle had something when he talked in his  suicide note about life being painful. Part of his reason for exit.

I've struggled, hard, since Kyle and so many other people in my life passed on, with finding new reasons to go on.

It's shattering when you look around and realize you're completely and 1,000% alone. Not even just alone, but dealing with crippling and horrific loss over and over and over again.

How attending funerals and holding tearful parents seems commonplace.

How sitting and being asked about my relationship with said person is foreign, and looses emotion after awhile. Because feeling anything hurts.

How being the 'tough one' only works in any kind of self-preservation style when you have someone to be strong for, or with. It does nothing when you go home and there's no one around to stand for.

Life is painful.

Truth.

I've often contemplated suicide now in the way Kyle must have. Not even derived from my own brain. Maybe a way to understand his choice.

I've always meant what I said when I get suicide. Now, I get it in another way. 

Life fucking sucks. 

You've gatta figure out how to be positive, how to overcome damn near everything with optimism. How you're one of the lucky few if you have someone else around on your same 'level' or to even be in your struggle with you. 

Lots of people are fucking assholes. You're pre-programmed with dreams and goals that correlate with your mission. 

To take it even DEEPER...

..there's sisters and brothers and family and lovers floating around from past lives, or that are Soulmates and twin flames or whatever. 

All the people that believe in me are dead.

All of the people who take as big of chances on me as I take on others are dead.

The world that I know I'm energetically a part of feels too big, and with every loss in every way - shape - and form... I feel crushed.

There's so much information being filtered thru my head all the time. From analyzing people without having that be my intention, to picking apart a fucking commercial bit by bit in a nanosecond. Scoping out lies, truths, body language, feeling another's pain without them saying a word, managing everyone else's life... And somehow have mine hang in the balance.

This is in no way taking away from all the beautiful soul work I've been doing. I do believe thoughts create things, and what you believe you can achieve.

I'm working, as I've said before, on the spaces between. On calming down and sitting. Doing nothing but what I can - and forcing myself to accept that.

Life is about sticking around and creating some kind of story.

I've said before and I mean that I will never end my life intentionally. Ever. 

But it's really fucking hard.

My new deal is finding meaning in every day, even when it's shit I don't really care for. To somehow find things to be grateful   for when every single thing I had been grateful for has died, or been taken away from me, or has turned on me.

I believe the 'law of attraction' to a certain degree. I don't have hidden agendas with anyone. I am who I am. I am loyal, trustworthy, so on... And can't seem to find that in others. If so, their definition certainly doesn't parallel mine.

What the hell does one do when they have nothing? 

I'm not talking about money or a house or stuff like that. I'm taking about much more meaningful things.

And I don't need some group of perverts to sit me down in a foldout chair and tell me everything will be okay once I give my pains to their cause in a ritual sacrifice. No. 

I'm mean when you've literally watched everything around you be destroyed or fucking die. 

I know to laugh. 

My problem is learning how to cry.

That's half my love affair with self injury.

No, I haven't relapsed.

I can't predict the future. I can't make people change, or take chances, or improve their lives, or be positive. 

I am the only person I can go to when I need anything. Not only is is difficult learning how to feel again when you get sober, but every time grief or pain comes up when you tie absolutely everything together... 

Overload.

It's relearning everything. Every time.

Maybe this is why this time was necessary. I think I'm doing pretty good day to day. My YouTube videos are fun. Something to do in the meantime. I acted on inspired thought, so maybe this is what it was for?

I'm sitting on my roof, looking at all the beautiful trees - moon - stars - drinking my 3rd cup of tea - wondering what the fuck to do.

I felt 'write a blog'. So. I did.

Presto!

There are so many people who should still be here. So many families mourning... And here I am, contemplating wtf to do between now and my company. Or, whatever. And how the hell I'm supposed to do this all by myself. 

Oh, poor me.

I should slap myself.

It's not being alone that bothers me. I've been single basically forever, that's not what I mean.

It's about having my life and dreams and mission and soul and goals and abilities being so detailed and unrelated sometimes, even confusing and still mesmerizing... But all tied together.

I sometimes sit and wonder who the fuck I am. I don't feel human.

Yep.

You read that right.

I know I'm... Not.

I am, but - inside? I'm not operating the same.

Almost like, if I couldn't see dead people or feel this insane intuition or had these dreams and could do what I do with films and budgets and 'fixed' people so easily... Life would be easier.

Ignorance is bliss?

I'm not saying I'm somehow better than anyone, no. I have nothing special. Everyone has all this.

I just feel as if life has punched me so many times, that with every punch it knocked something around or loose or whatever... And something else happened.

If you guys had any idea of what Jared looked like in his casket.... 

I can't.

I have a zillion past lives... And this one seems to be the hardest. That I remember, anyways.

Isn't having survived as much as I already have something? Doesn't that mean I'm some kind of... I don't know... I've got it?

How come I still have to figure this shit out?

It's not even depression anymore. Depression now seems like a word, a concept, for those society would call 'bitches' and 'sissies' who haven't truly experienced life's horrors.

It's beyond depression.

I'm just tired.

Exhausted. 

So much death and sadness and pain. So many lessons and hurdles to climb. So much Fuckery and bullshit. So many shadetastic people and alterior motives.

I don't even know.

I'm not sad. I'm not even hurting. Just... Processing.

Reprocessing. I guess.

The only thing I know for certain are the following:

1. Operating on energies is real. Be positive, create positive. All that junk.

2. Angels are real. So are 'ghosts'.

3. Miracles happen.

4. Medically, I should have died at least twice. For that reason alone, I guess I am here for a reason. 

5. ...well... I know everyone is here for a reason, and everyone is somehow connected to everyone else but another time, another blog. 

I just wish it was easier. 

All of it. 


*shrug*

I don't know. 

Ramblings. That's all. Just rambling. 

XO

Thursday, September 25, 2014

I'm not crazy.

That declaration probably makes it seems like quite the opposite, ha!

I'm really not, I promise.

Ya know, it's interesting what I can do. I have a BEAUTIFUL and deeply POWERFUL podcast episode I listened to the other day by Maureen Allan with guest Vincent Genna about Intuition. 

In it, he says, "...intuition isn't a gift. We're all born with it. We're born with a mouth, ears, heart, legs, intuition. It's a part of it. It's about if we use it or not."

Something along those lines. But he did say we're born with it.

And we are! Everyone thinks that it's some otherworldly thing and some have it, some don't.

No. Wrong. We all have it.

Are we open to it? How strong is it?

I've often thought of myself as crazy. Taking into account the social beliefs and preconceived notions of the general public about mediums, psychics, intuitives, sensitives... Those who use clairaudience, clairvoyance... We're supposed to be some ghostly people ourselves.

Like - because I sometimes see dead people, and sometimes have them talk to me, and I sometimes get flashes of people or things, and because I listen to my intuition as intensely as I can... I should be wearing jewels and a headdress 24/7, and be sitting behind some table with a crystal ball.

That I should be on a stage shouting things like, "Does anyone in this area have someone who is deceased with an 'A' name?" or "I'm sensing this conversation is troubling."

Like I should be sitting somewhere in silence with my eyes closed, humming some un-recognizable yet eerily familiar tune while I tell everyone how many dead people are present.

Or, that I'm evil. Or full of complete crap. Or totally playing people. Or somehow 'using it as a scam'...

When really, I'm just a girl who is - for the most part - deeply confused by it, and second guesses it constantly.

I don't make it up. I hate seeing other people have that thrown at them. I understand what it's like.

True story:

The first time I went to a medium, when my paranormal encounters (as I'm sure you'd like to call them) were getting insanely frequent, I thought - for a good portion of the time - that SHE was crazy!

Why?

"Holy shit... She's talking to dead people..."

Everything was right on point. It wast questionable things, it was, "Your great grandma <name> (that at that time I didn't know) says <illness> was wrong with your grandma." 

On. Point. Jaw dropping.

I knew she was legit. I don't just go to mediums with newspaper references. No. I go on powerful word of mouth. So I knew this was it.

I had just never met anyone, aside from me, who did this stuff. Sure, seen them on TV.. But in real life? Really?

Its powerful. That was a very powerful reading for me. Very powerful.

She helped assure me that nothing was wrong with me, I wasn't going crazy or making it up - it was real.

And, as every medium has told me, it isn't going to stop.

I can't control it. I never know when it's gonna happen or it won't. I don't know what the fuck it means, or who it's for.

All I know is with this new path of calming my interior soul energy and focusing on positive thinking and happiness always, it's getting stronger.

Probably because I'm quieting myself, my mind, and working on relaxing my soul into peace and joy always. A connection to oneness, to the power of positive thought, to relaxation and living in probability instead of possibility... It's getting stronger! 

I can't help it. It's just me.

It's a part of who I am, and it's taken me awhile to accept that. 

This started with Lucille Ball when I was 21. So, yeah... Lots of doubting happened. 

When your first real and lively interaction with spirit is a legendary celebrity - that happens.

I am slightly fearful of the fact thay someday, I have to explain this all to the man I love. If he's any normal person, I'd figure he'd Google me to death and probably already know. 

I know that if I get as far as to love him, he's super open minded so it shouldn't be a problem. 

It'll have to intrigue him. With Kyle, he listened but didn't really care because he didn't believe in it. Jared was deeply intrigued, he wrote lots of scripts and stories about it so he asked tons of questions. I even did a mini reading for him when we were in his room and there was some old man I sensed around. Very tired and exhausted old man. 

Everyone is a sensitive. Everyone has the abilities. People just don't think they do.

I'm just a normal 25 year old, just like anyone else. I work in the film industry, it's my life's passion/mission... I'm a recovered addict, sober alcoholic. I'm SI-free! I enjoy art, museums, poetry, long walks in nature. I curse a lot, I love to snuggle, I love animals. Fall is my favorite season. I'm honest, loyal beyond definition...

...and sometimes, I see and hear dead people. Or animals. Or Angels.

*shrug*

It's a part of who I am.

Now don't get me wrong... There's some people I know or I've met that I'm pretty sure don't know what they're talking about when it comes to that stuff.

I'm not saying everyone is good - that's just not the way of the world. 

I've had some friends, especially previous friends, who have said they were sensitive too. Yes, on some things, they probably were. Everyone has those abilities. On other levels, not so much. 

I've had someone say one thing I felt, and went way off about something else the next moment that my soul told me wasn't truthful. 

Not any professional medium, but random people or friends here or there. 

Some people are just desperate to join the conversation.

I'm very thankful I've found a group of very real, honest, truthful and legit professional mediums who are the absolute best to help guide me around things that scare me, or I don't understand. 

I didn't ask for this, or sit and fabricate things. Ever. It's my brain that says, "...You sure?" When every medium or person who truly has the abilities and uses them every day will tell you, as Vincent does in the podcast, "STOP! Stop doing that!"

For those who think it's weird, or crazy, or made up... And they don't believe, or don't accept what I know to be fact because I have seen and experienced it... I feel sorry for them.

Why? Well... Once I settled into the fact that this is real, it isn't going anywhere, and I just better get use to it... I realized.. It's fucking amazing.

Amazing.

The most beautiful thing ever.

I got to see my two cats, who I loved with all my being, when they passed away. To physically come love me, and tell me they were ok.

I got to see Kyle after he died. I still talk to him.

I got Jared's guardian angel to come and let me know what was wrong with him, what happened to him, before I got to the funeral. I still freaked out, but I had been warned. I also got to tell her about his energy drinks, and she told me, "Look in his computer." I passed that along to his family. I don't know what happened with it.

I get a clear read on people and situations from the moment interactions begin.

Regardless who believes in me, doesn't believe in me, gives me a chance or doesn't... It really doesn't matter, because I have guides turned friends helping me that people in this industry still look to and give credit for what they are doing! 

I have made friends that I would have never had in life. Fucking Lucille Ball, Patrick Swayze (P. Swayz), Christopher Reeves, Marilyn Monroe, Alfred Hitchcock (Lucy doesn't let him in too much, or too close), Jack Benny, Desi Arnaz, Robin Williams.. So many! 

Talk about the perfect mentors and teachers, ey? 

My god, I am blessed! 

I've had it told to me before, "They're all there, April. Anyone you want to learn from. They'll teach you. You know that."

The Angels... They're amazing. I've seen them a time or two, and let me promise you that when you see an Angel, you don't ever forget it. Jonathan has literally, very literally, saved my life. 

The people who don't have a friend like me, or hold all that at an arms length, or shut it down... They will never experience those things. Or if they do, they'll never know really where it came from. 

I wish everyone knew how beautiful and powerful it is to be crying yourself to sleep after your cat passes away, then turn around and see them sitting there.

I wish everyone knew how powerful and beautiful and amazing it is to be holding the hand of a dying loved one, to then see tons of blue lights dancing around them and just feel the presence of the Angels. To know you'll see them again...

...and when said loved one dies, to have them walk up to you in a dream and hold you. Let you know they're ok. 

If only everyone who was struggling in their work could look around and have someone who has been there and done that join them. 

If everyone knew what it was like to be so upset and depressed they cried themselves to sleep, and had their angel and guide step in to comfort them and tell them it would all be ok.

As you, of course, already know from my last depressing video on YouTube - my primary source of depression came from my career. My work. As I have said, I'm working on clearing and relaxing energy to a leveled and positive place... But I would cry myself to sleep more times than I can count, even since I've moved from California, and wonder why not me - what wasn't I doing - what wasn't I learning - so on.

Lucy is my primary guide. She's so invested she steps right in with Jonathan.

So, I'm crying myself to sleep. What is wrong? Why is this taking so long? So on.

I'm depressed, deflated, no one cares, no one believes. I'm alone, I'm perpetually fucked.

I feel someone leaning on my bed, like they've kneeled down beside my bed and have their elbows next to my face.

"Hey, why the tears kid?"

It's Lucy. With Jonathan standing right beside her.

I just start bawling even harder. I can't do this, this will never happen for me, I'm so lost and forever given up on...

She stroked my hair, shushed me, and told me sternly (but lovingly) to stop all this crap. To knock it off. 

"History isn't made overnight, April."

She went on, as she had before, to tell me the short story of her career. 

"No one believed in me, either! I was well into my 30s before I even got where you are now."

She explained a lot of things, and reassured me a ton of times that even when I can't see her, hear her, or feel her, that she's never going to leave me.

She's with me for life, and she's probably going to be right there to grab me when I pass over.

That is beautiful.

That everyone can have those experiences, but you have to let them in. 

Free will is a thing. They can't come in if you don't allow it. 

And really, I promise you, they're life changing experiences.  

The first time I met Hitchcock I was watching some of his films on TV. I said, out loud, "I hope I can find him..." Because he puts himself somewhere in everything.

There was a beat, and then I heard - loudly - in what is only his voice, "You must believe you can, dear. You're smarter than you believe." (Or something along those lines).

I froze, looked around, had a moment of panic, then saw him sitting in a blue chair in front of a bay window.

I introduced myself, he chatted, and I proceeded to learn. As I always aim to do. I asked about a couple scripts I was writing, asked for some input and advice, and he was off. 

I asked a medium once, "I feel like a fucking psycho. I'm never a fan girl, yet all my ghosts seem to be celebrities. What the hell?"

She said, "They're guides, and you want to be a legend in the business don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Then that's who you get. Legends in your field. It's not like you want to be a doctor. Any other group would be pointless."

Ah-ha!

Boy, am I lucky.

And not crazy.

I feel like I am sometimes.

It's not always good, either.

It wasn't until I did the podcast with Boss for TerrorTroop.com about the Manson Murders that I realized there is something between me and Sharon Tate. No clue what, but there's something. 

After, I was going to sleep and I saw all these horrifying flashes and heard these blood curdling screams.

I couldn't sleep after that. I knew what it was from.

I've seen flashes of some scary faces, seen some mean shadow people... It's alarming.

But the good most always prevails, so all ends well.

I've been in groups where people have spoken outwardly and without restraint on how they don't believe in it at all, they think all mediums and people who say they can do this are crazy, how it's all bullshit and a hoax. How it's not real, blah blah.

I will never try and convince someone. I just know what I know.

I'm not of any certain religion. I don't really believe in set rules or guidelines for this or that. I've always been a free, out of the box thinker, yet never wholly subscribed to one dude in charge of a bunch of stuff. 

I just know what I have seen, and experienced. I never believed in anything pre-suicide attempt. After? Well, I've seen Angels... That I have seen. With my own two eyes. 

I've seen people I know for a fact are dead. I've talked to them.

I've heard random spirits say things to each other.

I have random animals pop up.

Random people even.

Random messages that mean not a damn thing.

So... That's all I know to be a fact. 

That this all goes on.

It doesn't end here.

My homeboy P. Swayz says it so perfectly, "A person doesn't have all this energy, these feelings and likes and dislikes, these personality traits and different relationships and everything to just never go on. Energy doesn't ever stop. It just moves on."

I was even having a crappy 'I'm fat and ugly' day awhile ago and P. Swayz stepped in to tell me I was beautiful. 

Like, come on, get the fuck out. That doesn't happen!! Shut up!!!

...Yes. It does.

I promise you, it does.

The same way nothing is a coincidence, and miracles happen everyday.

It happens.

Just because my openness and acceptance of it makes it strong and noticeable in my life - just means that it's a part of who I am.

Sometimes it scares me, sometimes (most of the time) it deeply confuses me, sometime it shocks me, it always inspires me, and many other things.

I challenge you to just open yourself up to the possibility of the reality that it is.

I challenge you to then do something very simple...

...follow an intuitive message. An intuitive sign. Connect with it. Explore it. If could be anything - you know what it is. 

Follow that, and as you do - intuition grows and gets louder. More clear. 

Those are the spaces they can step in. 

I know. I've done it. 

Overall - this 'gift' that pops up here and there, these guides and people, these dreams and messages...

It's a part of my life. Who I am. 

And, no...

It doesn't make me crazy. 

Colorful? Sure.

Interesting? Yep.

Different? ...Ok...

...but not crazy.

Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Unless you're a celebrity, you don't matter.

I'm very moved by most of the movements that are meant to help, raise awareness, all those beautiful things.

But I can't help but be very... Frustrated... That it takes celebrities to 'endorse' said movements to make any significant move - or progress.

One of my fanfriends posted Emma Watsons brilliant and beautiful speech for HeForShe.org and gender equality on my wall the other day. 

It's beautiful, compelling, and moving. It's all true. All facts - and all a part of what I've been saying, or trying to say, for a long time. On podcasts with TerrorTroop.com, as well as random posts here.

It made me think of Kristen Johnston's equally moving and compelling speech she made not too long ago in which she stated, "...I'm furious that it takes a celebrity's death to make people care (about suicide, depression, mental health and addiction)..."

I am also furious. 

It's alarming that it takes someone who's life seems to 'matter more' to the public, to the media, to spark huge changes. 

To be, in some way, heard more clearly. 

To be, in some way, taken more seriously.

It's beautiful and inspiring that the chosen few take the time to use their fame for the greater good. That, I am not dismissing or made to be less than the greatness it is.

 ...but what about the thousands and thousands of women and men alike who are and have been tweeting on behalf of gender equality, Feminism & #YesAllWomen? Who have been brutally raped and sexually assaulted, who just don't happen to be 'famous'?

What about the thousands and thousands of individuals who have died from suicide, families in mourning, who just aren't 'famous'?

What about the girls who have been gang raped by football teams (stubenville), or any other number of women who have had their assaults and rapes covered up? By schools, adults, administration, or even the police?

What about Brandon Tenna? The transgender teen who was fucking murdered? Who was raped by men who just wanted to take advantage of a girl because they found out she had a vagina, and somehow simultaneously punish her for running around like a man?

How the only seemingly real justice for these poor people is a couple posts on Twitter, or a share on Facebook, or a documentary on Netflix?

And none of those things will ever reach as many ears or eyes as a celebrity at a grocery store. Or some celebrity's baby. Or some celebrity speaking about the generalized topic?

To me, it all says, "No one will care unless a celebrity does."

...and that makes me furious. 

Where are the thousands of women who have been raped? Sexually assaulted? Harassed? Where are they when these speeches and events are planned? 

They're being organized and planned for them, by - again - a majority of people who haven't been there. Who could never touch someone as deeply as the person who has lived it.

But - they may not be a celebrity. So, no excitement. No real attention. No real media or internet circulation will be had.

Ugh.

It goes back to everything I'm trying to do, too. 

I'm not even trying to just fight for the people who can't get anything, or who are overlooked. I'm trying to give the spotlight, the job, the chance, the stage, to them.

God - I can't tell you how much I look forward to that.

How much I look forward to personally investing in people who aren't 'at that level'. How excited I am to be able to personally call some kid somewhere who has dreams of being in film, or whatever, and giving them that chance to work with and learn from me - us - the team.

Because I know how it feels to not have that chance.

I can't wait to give maybe 2 mins of a speech, then turn it over to some people who wouldn't have been heard or seen otherwise.

It makes me angry, sick and excited all at the same time.

Yes, all the coverage and popularity of Emma's speech and the speeches of other celebrities is wonderful. Again, I'm not trying to make it less. It needs to be heard, said, and felt. Thank God they're doing it.

...but what about everyone else?

It angers me that everyone's stories and voices and dreams and concerns aren't heard as clearly. As loudly. And deemed to be as important.

I've stopped following some 'organizations' and 'charities' for the same reason. I'm pissed. It's like celebrity endorsement is the only thing people care about - and if you're not one, no one hears you.

How Kyle's Mom has been asking me and asking me to please submit my blogs places. To please help spread Kyle's message. To please write in different magazines and organizations and charities... And how nothing, not a damn one, in the years that Kyle has been gone, cares.

Why?

Because I'm not a celebrity (yet), and Kyle wasn't, either.

So Kyle's life and importance falls behind.

As does everyone's who isn't as popular or famous as Robin Williams. Or Heath Ledger. Or that kid from GLEE whose name escapes me.

...what the fuck?

I am angry.

I've told Kyle's Mom time and time again, "I'm trying, Mom. No ones listening."

"Well that's bullshit. They should care. It happens to thousands of people."

"I know."

Even to what I know others in my position hear, also, "Why hasn't someone co-signed you yet? You've got it."

"I don't know, Mom. I'm not important enough yet. By the time I'm to the level that anyone would find any personal gain or comfort in supporting and teaching me - I won't need it."

"That's bullshit."

"I know."

I'm not telling people to be stupid and just pull any Tom, Dick or Harriet off the street. I go thru insane hiring processes and question/answer sheets with multiple personal interviews and background checks before I hire people. I plan on doing that forever.

Safety first.

And just because someone is whoever, if they make you feel unsafe for any reason - there is no explanation needed. No is just fine.

But really?! 

People need to feel heard. Acknowledged. 

We have models and actors talking about the medias distortion of beauty. What?! 

We have actors and models and industry folk talking about poverty. Excuse me?!

We have others who we know damn well are gated up, have security, and people can barely get in a, "Hey can I have your autograph?" Talking about rape and assault like they've been there or something. Some have - most haven't.

Where are the thousands of people who have? Who want to stand up and help create change?

We have tons of friends of Robin Williams talking about how amazing he was - which we all already know. Where are the other family members? Kids who have made it thru and survived? 

We have celebrities wearing shirts and getting their pictures taken in front of walls with words, or at events... For what?

So the mass public will hopefully feel moved enough to do the same? Feel the same?

I hope that's the case, but it's still missing the grand picture.

We will suddenly care and suddenly run out and buy this shirt or subscribe to this movement just because this celebrity has?

...those people are also the same people who will probably punch an old man in the face because celebrity #3 endorsed it.

I just don't understand.

Am I wrong? I don't think so. I believe I'm just lighting the other side, another powerful option.

Suddenly, because a celebrity is wearing some 'To Write Love On Her Arms' shirt - we're all gonna go out and learn all about suicide awareness and prevention? What story, what deep - moving story does that person have? 

...& where the FUCK is everyone else?! Where's all the other normal people who have stories? Who have moving, compelling things?

Ugh.

It becomes sensationalized. It becomes, as I believe TWLOHA has, something that is just popular. Not even deeply understood or deeply profound. Just another over-hyped thing that people buy because it's popular, because all their favorite celebrities do it. 

Let's all go sign up for HeForShe. I really pray most of the people get it. Most everyone really gets what she said.

Wanna know what I've already heard from a lot of men about her speech?

"Whatever, she's hot so I'll do it."

.....

....

.....

"Did you not fucking hear her?"

"It's Emma Watson. She can do whatever she wants, I'll support it."

...

I guess that's better than nothing?

I want to see people on big platforms with huge audiences and huge opportunities that aren't celebrities.

I want to see people with insanly real stories to shock and awe huge crowds and make them cry and laugh - that weren't in a blockbuster film, or on the cover of a magazine.

I want to see more celebrities giving back and paying it forward to other people. Not just turning around in their same circle like, "Hey already famous screenwriter - let's collaborate!" No. I wanna see them reach a hand outside and grab the hand of someone struggling, someone unknown, and say, "I see you. I believe in you. Would you like to learn & grow?"

...where is that? What happened to that?

That was a practice of old Hollywood only, I guess.

And Hedda Hopper is dead, so... Thank God we've got Oprah.

What the celebrities have done is wonderful. Again, as I've said before too, it's not their fault. They don't know that they can look around and expand and do this stuff. They're in the box, to a degree. 

They probably would never think, "Ya know what? I'm gonna help somebody who isn't somebody to potentially become somebody!"

If they have, their definition of that is their publicists second cousin. 

They haven't thought, "Hey, I'm gonna bring three women on stage with me and have them tell their stories of gender inequality!" 

If they have, they've probably been told no. They didn't want to or know that they could fight that.

They probably haven't thought, "Ya know what?! I want to share absolutely everyones stories of overcoming suicide, and make sure everyone sees it and awareness really goes sky high!"

If they have, they've probably been told, "...but celebrities bring more sales, press, and notoriety."

Three cheers for every celebrity who has stood up and spoken, acted or made a movement for a real and necessary change.

...now, it's time to include everybody. 


Tuesday, September 23, 2014

I'm miles from where you are...

I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places

I hang my coat up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science

Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like music to me

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms

After I have travelled so far
We'd set the fire to the third bar
We'd share each other like an island
Until exhausted, close our eyelids
And dreaming, pick up from
The last place we left off
Your soft skin is weeping
A joy you can't keep in

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
And I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms

I'm miles from where you are,
I lay down on the cold ground
and I, I pray that something picks me up
and sets me down in your warm arms.

Monday, September 22, 2014

Uhmmmm....

Please tell me why the other night I had 'fire fires' visions when I was going to sleep.

I panicked and thought to myself, "That's not you, April, calm down. It's you being batty."

Oh, hey, Twitter. Wait, what's that?


*throws hands in the air*

I don't know if this is any connection, but... Yeah? I'd been asking myself all day, "What did that mean?"

I don't know for sure, but if it's anything with what I got - I feel like it was electrical.

*shrug*

Idk, man. Idk. 

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Studying Comedy (& other stuff) with Lucille Ball.

There's something to be said about being a clear, open channel.

I've talked about my beautiful relationship with Lucille Ball in many, many blog posts prior to this. For further details and dreams, get reading!

I knew I had some sort of relation to her. Some way. Some how.

It's a gut feeling. A soul recognition. 

My spirit, the fire inside of me recognized her before I did. Of course, my brain tried to fight it.

"Oh Christ, that's it. Lucille Ball is talking to you and visiting you. Time to get a cot in the looney bin."

That was before all the other dead celebs decided to pile in.

I never thought this would be a part of my life, let me guarentee you that. 

Best way I can describe how I feel about contact with any spirit:

You're standing around, minding your own business, and all of a sudden you see a blur out of the corner of your eye. Someone runs up, super quick, and slaps you across the cheek. Then runs away just as quickly. 

You know it happened. You felt the contact. You feel the sting. You know the blur was a person. But you sit and question yourself, because you didn't completely see them come or go.

Then you sit and question what you KNOW happened for the next couple hours or days or whatever.

So blah blah read my other blogs.

When Lucy and I first started discussing comedy, I was really nervous about it. I've always been somewhat comical in life, every day personal interactions. I've even had several people push me to do stand up. 

I'd always wanted to do comedy in film. I know I can write it as long as I'm envisioning how a punch line will be delivered, which is my new hurdle to climb. It's in casting, yes, but I can't forever write comedy knowing the way I know how to deliver it appropriately. I can't be in every damn thing I make.

I want to cast myself opposite someone who doesn't do comedy well, or at all. There's comedy in that alone, but Lucy had cautioned me against that. She's really confident I can do it, hence the decision, but I know I'll get clearer guidance from her when the time comes.

The other day she moved books and set my lamp down sideways in order to free up a book I had buried about her. Apparently she wants me to read it, and when she wants me to get thru boy does she get thru. I didn't get that clear enough, of course, so she had almost everyone I know text me in relation to Lucy for some reason that day.

I've gatta find something in there I guess. I'll find out. 

Take action on inspired or intuitive thoughts, or messages kids. 

Is it reappearing? Act on it!

So when I began studying Lucy, not long after we met, I noticed some very simple things that she confirmed once I asked her about it.

It's instinct.

For so long, I beat myself up about 'the character' and 'what would they do' that I totally forgot about ME. 

She basically said, "Lucy Ricardo is a character, but Lucille Ball has to believe it."

Once I got in touch with that, it got more comfortable and much easier.

Her acting rules and advice she gives - and gave publicly - have always been:

Listen.
Act.
React.

She said it's ultimately that simple.

Forget every other thing I was taught. That was all I needed. 

And for me, personally, that made sense. 

"What you have personally, you need to bring to your comedy."

It is a thing of you either have it or you don't, too. She's reassured me several times that I have it, and I know I do.

I feel like I cheat a little, too.

Some of what I say, or do, isn't all me.

Sometimes I'll even listen back on a podcast I did with www.TerrorTroop.com and think, "I said that? What?" Or watch a video back or any film I've done and think to myself, "Hmm. Ok?"

Sometimes, spirit throws shit and I just let it flow. I don't know I'm doing it until after.

The first film I have with my company is a comedy. It's not the style Lucy did, but she thinks it's 2015-appropriate. 

She said she'll always be there. Every single acting thing I do, every business venture, she's standing right there beside me. 

When it all clicked, the whole shebang, I was acting in and producing the short horror film (that I had initially 'boxed up' to sell as one of those 3-4 short special DVD releases). 

I remember waking up in the hotel and saying, "Let's get to work, Mama Lucy!" And she was there the whole day. 

You know when you're walking, alone, and someone walks up beside you? Doesn't say a word, but you can feel their energy? They walk awhile, then even if a sound isn't made, you can feel them walk away?

That's what it's like.

I would memorize my lines while I was running around and checking on the crew. Making sure everyone had what they needed and things were going smoothly. Then get into hair/makeup/wardrobe while watching yesterday's edits, working on social media for the production, and more memorizing lines. Then go shoot my scene, check schedule, run back, change into regular clothes, and keep working. 

It's knowing energy. Even if you can't see. Energy never stops, for anyone or anything.

I remember sitting in the production trailer by myself, and being so exhausted. Things weren't going well with the other producers and myself. I'd said it before previously, I won't repeat it again. You can go read about it.

My career is the only thing I have ever wanted. Ever. This was going to be sold. I had it all, and no one wanted to do the rest of the work to close the deals that I couldn't close - my job was just to get them.

I could just feel her energy. And didn't hear, but felt her giving me the 'get up and work' push I needed to make it.

I got mad at her for not talking to me or coming into my dreams. She didn't for a reason, but, that's on a podcast with Boss at Terror Troop. *wink*

She's a big believer of "Believe what you are doing. If you don't, no one else will. The skill doesn't come in developing someone else, it comes in finding ways to rationalize with yourself why this material should be believed. To you."

When she was alive, she was big in rehearsing. Rehearse, rehearse, rehearse. 

I never rehearse. I can't. For me, I get too robotic. It just doesn't work best. I get too... Well... Rehearsed. 

Unless it's comedy. Then, you need to know your props. Sometimes, your props can kill you if you don't know every step of your performance. Buster Keaton told Lucy that one. That's out there somewhere for anyone to read.

Lucy's quote about, "You've got to love yourself first to get anything done in this world" holds many meanings. 

She's told me, also, related to that, "You can't care what you look like. Ever. You lose the laugh in your vanity."

She was also big in counting laughs. She could look at any script and count how many laughs she should get, or any actor should get if they 'did it right'. 

I don't know how to do that, and I've never gotten that opportunity. I can't pull any 'I Love Lucy' scripts to count, I know them all.

I need to get my hands on one that hasn't been recorded yet. Preferably a TV  show. Count where I think the laughs would be in the script, then watch it filmed and see if I was right. 

I'd need to be there because if something that was meant to get a laugh didn't and they have to rewrite on the spot, I wanna see how they do that.

I've always learned best when I'm physically present. When I can talk to people and watch things, real time. I'm not, nor have I ever been, a 'book learner'. I can't read a book about how to do it. I have to watch other people do it.

I can't explain it, but I pick a lot up that way. Maybe it's in part due to my 'sensitivity', but it's easiest for me that way. Often, I'll watch a show or movie or documentary, and pick up tons of new ideas or ways to do tons of things... And I can't necessarily explain them all. But they're now stored in my brain.

Very observant, I am.

Yoda. Ha. 

I do love Lucy. She's so nice, but very honest. She says what she thinks and means it. I like that. Always have. It's hard to find.

She's compassionate, and insightful. She's still super passionate about work. I appreciate her sticking around and helping me out.

Fucking legend. She's the only one who has never left me in this business, and people can't even see her.

I'm a young actress/business woman who works with Lucille Ball, and brings her everywhere I go. In one form or another. 

<shake of head> I sound bat shit crazy.

"You're an extension of me."

Makes me feel good that she wouldn't put her stamp on something she didn't approve of.

Just heard her say, "Never have, never will."

Go research Lucille Ball, and her work ethic. She was a tough cookie. She knew how to do everything, and if you didn't you were canned. 

Makes me really proud of myself. Honestly. Really proud of myself. 

The only person that really, truly, completely knows what I'm capable of is a dead legend. 

I can see the future headlines now. 

<shake of head>

Wanna start meeting dead people? Lucy? Other folks? Hang out with me. Everyone seems to have stuff get interesting. Or, at the very least, get messages in your dreams. 

It always starts with dream messages.

Anyways...

...for Halloween, I'm gonna do a special release for my YouTube channel. I'll be in the awesome new costume I bought to take my friends kids out, and I'll be going over all ghost related stuff. 

Any questions about dead folks, how what happens to me happens, anything, shoot it at me. I'll be giving all the messages I've been getting, and just random fun spirit stuff. 

...in my epic costume. 

Ooohhhhh yyyeeaaahhh. 

(No, it's not the Kool-Aid guy).

I'm gonna go back to my 'I Love Lucy' DVDs. Trying to 'relax' myself into 'receptor' zone. See what happens. 

Desi won't stop trying to teach me Spanish. All my subtitles are off. On the DVD, my DVD player and my TV. Nope. They still pop up randomly. 

No, Desi, I'm working on Italian. Not Spanish. 

He's a really great guy, too. Great advice from him, too. 

Okay, back to whatever it is I'm supposed to learn this time.

Keep those channels open, folks. I can't tell you how many times I've seen a thing, realized it was being SHOWN to me by something greater than me, shrugged, and been like, "Eh. Guess I'll see what this means." and had been so thankful I did. 

Go after every single option. Every single one.

Okay! Lucy, here I am!

Goodnight, love. 
<snuggles>