Friday, October 31, 2014

6 questions to ask yourself...

I just woke up from a dream I was having in which I was deeply explaining Angels and higher consciousness and messages and all that to some dude.

This dream made me think to write down the exact questions I ask every situation/person/thing that enters my life:

- What prayer/wish/silent request &/or  passionate statement is this answering?

- What lesson is this teaching me?

- What reoccurring thought (positive or negative) is this the product of?

- What blessing/miracle/lesson is this trying to lead me to?

- Is this a sign/message or a warning?

- Is this of light/love/peace/growth, or is this negative/draining/ego based/dark, etc.

Answer those for yourself with full and complete, brutal honesty - & you're golden!

Hugs & love.

Happy Halloween

I've always loved Halloween.

Not sure why, exactly. Just have.

Maybe because of the costume thing and some tie in with me being an actor? I don't know.

I feel bad for my people, tho.

All my amazing dead friends get a bad rep.

Up until I was 16, you couldn't do a damn thing to convince me there was anything positive out there. Nothing.

You couldn't take me to church. You couldn't show me photos for proof of Angels. You couldn't sit anyone in front of me to share any stories.

I was extremely bull headed, and locked up super tight in my shell of addiction/self injury/depression/suicidal thoughts, etc.

I was loud. Bold. Violent. Angry. Completely not wanting to believe, and not having ever seen one good thing in my life, totally firm in my disbelief. 

I would tell you that you were a fucking idiot. Probably a loony tune. Probably laugh, and walk away after. 

When my Mom would tell me, "Find something to believe in. Be happy." I was so offended. Like a slap in the face. How dare you. You don't understand a fucking thing I've been going thru! You assist your husband in beating me. You abuse your child. Fuck you. You have absolutely no room to talk. Don't you dare hit me, watch him hit me, then when you get calls from the school because I'm suspended again - or find blood all over my clothes - or don't see me for two days because I'm locked up in my room - then tell me to "just be happy. Stop making it so hard for yourself. Get over it."

When I was 16, I decided I couldn't take it anymore. The abuse, the depression, the constant pain.

I remember writing in my suicide letter, "...I just want to go somewhere where maybe someone will love me..."

I cut for an hour or so, contemplating. I went into the bathroom, took a bunch of pills - bleeding profusely, sitting in my bathtub.

No one ever, ever came to check on me so I knew I'd be left alone. "She's crazy. She's always looking for attention. Something's wrong with her." Is what they would always say.

Let me tell you, friends...

Pay attention. True story. I sat in that bathtub, swallowing pill after pill after pill... I FELT arms wrap around me.

I FELT the entire room shift. Like the air was let back in. I felt warm, like when the sun is beating down on you thru a window.

I FELT something take my hands.

I just dropped the pills, curled up in a ball, cried, and continued to bleed everywhere.

I still, to this day, can't ever have this make sense - real, honest, tangible sense - unless the person I'm explaining it to has had a 'near death experience'. Or, has been saved by Angels.

I just knew, for the first time - FIRST TIME in my whole life - that I absolutely was not alone.

Now, I know it was Jonathan.

Jonathan held me. Just giving a love that I swear to God I had never ever felt before. I didn't know what the fuck was going on, but I went with it.

It was like an out of body experience, honestly.

He held me, and continued to give me warmth and love. He honestly did absolutely everything he could, and let me tell you it was difficult.

The best visual of what I mean is in 'City Of Angels'! When Meg Ryan is crying in the staircase, and Nicholas Cage is trying to comfort her. Pretty accurate, actually. Almost identical to what I'm trying to explain.  

(This is actually extremely accurate. Minus the romance, anyhow. And that I've never seen them looking like anything other than how he does in the Polaroid. Also, it's not language really - it's thoughts and feelings: )

Sorry - got sidetracked. This kinda stuff is hard to explain, so I try to do what I can to give accurate visuals - wherever they come from - to what I've experienced. 


Back to the story... 

I started talking, and saying things like "Please help me" and "I don't wanna hurt anymore" and "make it stop".

I don't know how I got back to my room, but I did. I kept cutting, I remember that. I don't know why.

What I didn't know...

My Mom had made a call a couple hours earlier to a friend of hers she hadn't talked to since High School who was a priest.

I didn't find any of this out until years and years later.

We've never been a religious family, but my Mom said she was scared I was going to do something. She knew I had gone so far downhill. 

I don't know what their conversation was. I didn't ask. 

After I was done cutting in my room, I went to go into the kitchen and there was my Mom.

Holding a bloody rag, sobbing.

A bloody rag she had been using to wipe my blood from the tub that I just left. 

"April..." My Mom was crying like I had never seen her cry before. She walked over to me and hugged me. Which was very, very rare. 

We had never been an 'I Love You' family either. No one ever really says that. Never have.

She hugged me and sobbed into my shoulder, "I've been a horrible mother. I am so sorry, April. I should have done more. I should have helped you. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do. I don't know what to do..."

It was then that the beginning of my process to realize my parents are just normal people, too, started. 

So I hugged my Mom, comforting her, remembering how ironic that was, and repeated, "It's ok, Mom. It's ok."

I went into my room, laid down, my cat Cuddles climbed into bed with me, and I went to sleep.

I can't tell you what happened from then to now. I honestly can't.

I know Jonathan was with me, every step of the way. 

I know that Lifeclass was not around then. Nor was the internet that popular. No texting, no Facebook - nothing. 

I know that I was getting sent, intuitively, pieces of the things Lifeclass teaches. And pieces of my soul, because I really didn't have one.

There's absolutely no fucking way I would have been able to do it without him. No fucking way. Archangel Michael, Jonathan... No way. 

You guys wouldn't even recognize the person I used to be. 1,000,000,000,000% different than I am now. 

It took tons and tons of work to get to where I am. I asked a medium the first time I had a reading why it was so hard for me to remember, and she told me it's always hard to remember the walk thru a true, honest crisis when you're being walked thru it. When you've got heavenly assistance.

Not too long after that, I started seeing orbs. Little by little. I think each thing that actually happened to me opened my door just a little bit more.

When Jonathan saved me, when he was there, I realized somewhere - even subconsciously - inside myself, "Hmm. Ok. Who was that?"

Then that acceptance led to orbs. That was like, "Woah! What the hell?!" Found out, accepted, so forth.

I didn't know it was an Angel. I didn't know his name was Jonathan. I didn't know who any of the Archangels were. None. At all. 

I just knew someone helped me. Someone was there. It was good, and I wasn't alone anymore.

So, I talked to him. 

Random things. Comments, questions, and so on. Things continued to get better. I continued to find myself. My worth, my strength, my power. 

My life. My soul.

I found a soul somewhere inside me that held a spirit I would have never, EVER, imagined would be mine. Never.

When I turned 21, I met Lucille Ball. You already know how I feel about her.

(That's Lucille Ball to you, Mama Lucy to me. Don't get it twisted fools.)

Not too long after, I met so many more amazing friends who happen to be in spirit. Some just happen to have famous identities. 

But they're my friends, just the same.

It wasn't until I was well into my mentorship with Mama Lucy, and had met my first shadow person, that I took my terrified and confused behind to a very highly regarded medium friend (who is actually in talks regarding her own show) who explained everything to me. 

Without saying a word, she made everything finally make sense.

She explained Angels. She introduced me, formally, to Jonathan and Archangel Michael. 

I will never forget telling her, "I can't believe I never believed... I can't believe this happened, is happening, to me."

She smiled and winked - actually winked (she's a cutie) - and said, "Welcome, beloved."

The only consistent people in my life have been people that no one can see.

Well, almost no one.

The truth behind the spirit world, I guess, is that it isn't all bad.

Yes, there is bad. There's really bad energies and spirits. That's not a lie.


...the vast majority is Angels, and loved ones, and guides. 

I didn't believe it until they really just pushed their way in. Or, however it happened. 

It's not important how. It just matters that I finally got it. 

Thank <whoever you wanna say>!

It is nothing short of a fucking miracle that I'm alive. 

Even with mishaps with drugs and drinking and other shit I did alone... Even before I tried to kill myself... 

I was saved. Rescued. By forces much, much stronger and more powerful than anything else.

Anything you or I will ever be.

We are always connected to it, but, you get it.

I can't even begin to tell you how beautiful Angels are. Really, truly seeing them. Feeling them touch you. Feeling them stand tall (& they're really tall) behind and in front of you.

I was beat for laughing. I wasn't allowed to play. I was forced to sit and smile in my perfect dress. Only speak if spoken to.

With my self injury and depression and basic training of shutting the fuck up and, well, the removal of my identity... It took me a long time to find who I really am.

To laugh and play and be loud. To love and hug and snuggle. To find worth for who and what I am.

A long time. 

I've never had help. Assistance. Ever.

My whole family are very big on keeping the image of the white picket fence, so they all deny it and tell me I made things up and blah blah. Denial. It's cool. I ain't mad at it... Anymore.

Once in a blue moon, tho, my Mom will say something like, "You really did good for yourself. You made it, somehow. By yourself."

If you call her on it she won't elaborate. I take it as it is, it's like a shooting star. LOL

My Dad even said once, regarding a feature on HLN, "He killed his wife?! What a dirty piece of useless fucking shit. Who the FUCK lays a hand on a woman?! I WISH some motherfucker would lay a hand on a woman in front of me!"

I started laughing my ass off. "Are you fucking kidding me? Don't you have a membership pin and sash for the 'I Beat Women' club?!"

Denial. Severe denial.

Point is...

Angels, Spirits, saved my life. 

Many, many times. 

Mama Lucy shuts me up about career worries and helps protect me. Jonathan does a bit of everything, so does Michael. P. Swayz is like a big brother, very loving and protective but helpful...

... I could never thank them enough.

Even the random spirits here and there of love and light that show me kindness. The ones of my beloved friends who passed - relatives of friends - random people just kind and positive in random establishments. 

I am so blessed - thankful - grateful - for being one of the few to know what I know.

So on Halloween - a time where everyone is running around in Freddie and Jason masks - I wanted to take time to thank my team.

The only show I've ever seen that portrayed Angels and Spirits well was Lisa Williams 'Life Beyond The Dead', or something. I forget exactly what it was called - but that one did you justice!

I dream of getting a reading from Lisa Williams one day - FYI?

Anyway... I'm dragging on...

Thank you. 

You saw me. You found me. You stayed.

Even if no human ever stands and takes interest or shows support for me - it won't matter. 

I've got the most powerful group of people in this entire universe. 

When it's a spirit I don't like, an energy I don't like, any situation in my day to day life I don't like - they're there. Like an army.

Fuck yeah. 

We are the shit! 

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Conversations with my Mom: Cleaning

Note: My Mom denies it, but she does have OCD and directs it to cleaning. Her Mother, my Grandma, has confirmed it. Regardless, she still insists she's fine. Her standards for cleanliness are a little insane. 

Growing up, it was a major point of contention. She would insist something was horrifyingly dirty, I would tell her she's nuts. Argument follows.

So, we begin...

Mom: I hope you're cleaning your shower better than you did at home.

Me: *sigh* Yes, Mom.

Mom: I may not even wanna go in there. It's probably a shower Satan would use. A shower from Hell.

Me: ...Really...?

Mom: Shit all over the walls. Scum and dirt. Unclean - like the showers you'd be forced to use in Hell. I imagine all the unholy things coming out of every orifice and sticking to your walls. What do you do in there? Shed skin? Sins?

Me: ...Mom...

Mom: Does Ragen from 'The Exorcist' shower in there? Spew her green puke everywhere? Probably does. People will judge you, April.

Me: You're done, psycho.

Mom: April, I am serious! People will think bad things. Do you murder people in there? I'm sure it looks like a crime scene. Did Jodi borrow your shower to murder Travis Alexander? Probably did. 

Me: Wow. You need help.

Mom: No, you need help. 

Me: ...and this is why.


Mom: Satan's shower. 

Me: Mom.

Mom: Demons shower there.

Me: STOP! Do you want me to send you a picture?

Mom: Oh God no! Please! I did nothing to deserve that!

Me: *laughing* You're fucking nuts.

Mom: ...says Satan.


Tuesday, October 28, 2014


It's very interesting to me how powerful life can be.

One moment, you're happy. You're good. You think you've got everything pretty figured out. You're at least at a place of true peace.

The sun is bright. The possibilities are abundant.

Then, in one second - exactly one second - one phone call can change everything.

One event can bring everything you thought you were, the life you thought you were in, crashing to the floor.

One moment can forever change everything you ever knew, thought you believed. 

One moment can shut everything down. Can reset everything inside your soul.

Don't be so blind that you miss blessings.

Don't be so afraid of the world, the people in it, that you end up ultimately missing out.

Don't be so ignorant to the fact that you can be reduced to less than nothing in a millisecond. 

Be grateful.

Be humbled.

Be blessed.

Be thankful.

Realize the beauty in absolutely everything. From a babies laugh to the smile of a stranger.

Truly be grateful, and thank whatever power you believe in for each and every blessing - opportunity - relationship you have/experience. 

Don't ever allow yourself the possibility of looking back and thinking, "...I should have..." Or, "...Why wasn't I aware how blessed I was?"

Find blessings and gratitude in absolutely everything. 

It only takes one second, one moment, to wipe it all away. 

So cherish everything. Everyone. Every experience.

And realize that if you, like me, have been reset and broken down to nothing... That's when soldiers are created.

If you're another soldier out there who has been bent over and fucked with a 300 degree curling iron by life... Maybe not once, but twice. Three times. Four times...

...most people will never understand us.

Why we are the way we are. Do or say things how we do or say them.

...and you know what?

Let's pray they never do.

Because their blissful ignorance is a sign of a happy life. One that has seen no real, disgusting, ugly pain. 

Because we have had no choice but to figure out how to live again. Several times.

Because we have had to figure out how to laugh again. How to smile again. How to talk and relate and coverse with others again.

How to open our eyes without crumbling.

Most will never know the depths of pain we have been thru. I hope to God they never do.

But that's why we know why blessings and happiness and being grateful is so beautiful.

Because we, now, realize just how insanely miraculous it all is. 

We're not all soldiers... But those of you who feel me...

...I see you. 

I'll fight for you. 

Just like I know you'd fight for me. 

Because you know horror, too. 

You've been there. 

& remember where the fuck you came from.

Don't get so far beyond the pains, horrors, struggles, that you forget what it's like to be in them. That you forget what someone else may be going thru, need a hand with. 

Because soldiers can, in fact, help create other soldiers. 

So, my message?

Be grateful.

Be humbled.

Be blessed.

Be thankful.

...& ride out. 

Don't let life pass you by.

Take it for every beautiful thing it has to offer. 


Monday, October 27, 2014

Conversations with my Mom: Water & Bees

*helping my Mom wash dishes*

<I move toward the sink, about to stick my hands under the running water>

Me: What temperature is this? Death?

Mom: No. Just a little torture.


*sitting with my Mom drinking tea*

Me: Don't drink mine, Mom.

Mom: Oh I'm sure. I'll probably spit it right back out.

Me: It's not that bad...

Mom:'s probably like sucking a bees ass. 


Animals & People

I'm not sure what any of this means, but it's a common thread I've discovered in my time here on earth that's worth discussing.

A common thread in my personal day to day life, anyways. For me.

I'm sure it's true for others, also. Someone out there will feel this. Maybe you, whoever you are, can explain it to me.

Animals have always loved me.

Animals others say have been abused and are beyond rehabilitation. Animals that are wild - squirrels, foxes, rabbits, ducks and geese. Anyone's pets, the ones that are supposed to be afraid of everyone.

I was house sitting for a friend awhile ago, I may have spoke about this before here. Long story short, she had an Alaskan Husky who was brutally abused in his former homes. He was very angry and aggressive with anyone but my friend. Animals, fine. People? No.

She had me meet him a day before to see if she would need to board him while she was gone.

He came right up to me, licking me, trying to sit on my lap. He even growled at her other dog, a little poodle, when he tried to come around me.

My friend joked and called her husband to see it because she couldn't believe it. She called her Mom, Brother, everyone. She was shocked. 

That dog was my best friend. He never left my side, even when we went outside. He was a saint. There's absolutely no fiber of my being that believes anything negative said about that precious soul.

Squirrels come right up to me. They've been known to climb all over my feet, hang out on benches beside me. I even hand feed them on occasion. 

Here's one of my squirrel buddies from a bit ago. I called him Mr. Squirrel.

I went to one of my favorite places, Greenfield Village not too long ago. They have goats, horses, everything. 

There was a man riding a horse, his name was Gun Smoke. He was a huge, beautiful white horse speckled with grey and black.

This horse spotted me in a crowd of over 100 and stared at me. He rode back and forth two or three times - staring at me when he rode by.

His rider rode him by once more and he stopped. Mid stride. Slowed down, and walked right up to me. 

Like a dog or cat does to humans, this horse bowed his head - pressed it right against my chest - and nuzzled me.

His rider, the people around us, and my friend all were shocked. 

"Wow, he must really like you."

He kept nuzzling my chest, and letting me pet him. For a solid minute or two.

When his rider told him it was time to move along, he pulled his head back and looked up at me. Just stared at me. It was odd, but loving and calm. 

There's lots of people - mediums and such - who claim that they can talk to animals. I won't say I don't believe it, but it hasn't happened to me. What I can get with is their energy, tho.

There's a soul in there. A beautiful soul in every animal. It recognizes it's humans, it feels pain and joy. It remembers things and knows who or what hurts them. How can one claim they don't process or retain or stand capable of so much more than we know?

They sense danger. They know who is good, and who isn't. Animals of all different types have been known and recorded saving lives and defending their humans. Waking them up in fires or gas leaks, even breaking out of their homes to attack intruders.

Google it.

Just because that soul is in the body of a being that isn't capable of speaking the English language doesn't mean anything other than a verbal barrier.

This is how I feel about all animals - what I'm trying to say I guess. To explain:

With my soul - I really, truly believe that they know that. They know when you're that person. They feel it.

It's nothing verbal. It's energy. 

It's an open soul.

I really think they know that.

I'm not saying I could walk into the wild in Africa and snuggle with lions and tigers. I'm just saying on some level - it does matter. It registers.

You can even feel when an animal is nervous - anxious - angry. Same kinda thing with meeting humans and getting the 'vibes' in seconds.

Only, I believe with humans, it's often more difficult. Because there is language, and brain activity connected to so many other human things. The 'say one thing do another' concept. You feel like they're upset, they use language to say they're not, and brains go overboard analyzing things not meant to be filtered thru a brain. 

My grandmother is developing dementia. 

I've always been very close with most of my friends parents and grandparents. 

I've seen mental disabilities or disease take many. Old and young. 

Disease, addictions, you name it.

What I've always found to be fascinating about the elderly is their common ground of compassion. More or less.

How even when Kyles Grandma was in the depth of Alzheimer's, she didn't remember or recognize some of her own children... But she remembered me. 

Even if she couldn't remember my name, there was a light in her eyes and a smile somewhere on her lips. Followed by, "Oh! Hello!"

How even when Kyle killed himself, and she sat at the viewing, there was something going on behind her eyes. And she may not have known where she was or why, but a comforting hand found her daughters. Kyle's Mom. Who was mourning the loss of her son. Her grandson. 

How my grandmother is turning into a very evil, nasty person. She's told both my parents to virtually kiss her ass - she's thrown my sister out of her house - she's hung up on cousins and siblings... But I'm the 'crazy one', because she's never anything but kind to me.

When my grandpa was dying, and he wasn't talking or moving anymore, with his eyes closed and his body previously unresponsive - his hand still found my cheek when I laid with him and cried. 

How I told him, privately, knowing he could hear me, that I was okay with being there when he was ready to go. I felt I could handle it. What I did not say was that regardless, I was a little scared. That regardless of the presence of my great grandparents waiting to greet him, and the Angels I'd seen moving around him, I'd never actually been present when anyone has passed before. 

Especially the man who was basically my father. Who I loved and respected far above and beyond anyone else.

I've seen spirits 'rise', I guess, occasionally when I've driven past hospitals. It's like a flash of the brightest white light ever shooting up into the sky. 

But I've never physically been present. 

When Kyle's Grandma died, Kyle was everywhere. Waiting to greet her. I left the hospital exactly a half hour or an hour before she passed away.

I know on some level, energetically, that my Grandpa did not want me there when he passed. I felt that. I feel the same thing about Kyle's Grandma. 

For my Grandpa, he didn't move on until myself and my siblings had all seen him one last time.

I remember sitting straight up at 5am. Standing on autopilot, and walking toward where my Mom was sleeping. 

She was already half way to my room.

"Grandpa's gone." She said, then started to cry.

I held her, "I know Mom. I know."

An hour later, we got the phone call.

A day later, all hell broke loose. But that's another topic for another post.

I know we are all connected somehow. Some way. Regardless of mental disabilities, status, current life circumstances, etc. There's a current of energy we can all access. Like intuition.

I believe it's always present. Even more so, sometimes, in those with impairments. Whatever the level or current issue.

And, of course, most accessible with animals. All of them. 

Does that make sense? 

I hope so.

I'm not saying I'm any more or better than anyone else. Just that 'higher consciousness' thing I guess. 

*shrug* It must be. 

The sensitives. Those 'connected' to the 'one/all', or whatever. 

<slams sword into the dirt> Tis I, people of this beautiful village! 

Or, towns people... Town folk? Whatever.

On another note...

I'm really excited for everyone to hear Terror Troop's Halloween Special! I did an Oracle Card Reading for Boss and the audience. I'm certain everyone will get something positive out of it. 

For sake of explanation, it's like a tarot card reading. Only I'm talking directly to the Angels and the Angels only. Which is how I roll. 

I feel very good about it for some reason. I know the Angels were with me on that one. It's very beautiful and powerful. 

Anyhow, I hope everyone is doing well. Stay tuned for a new YouTube video coming up every Sunday!

It's my fun place.

I've got one scheduled for Halloween also, so it'll be a short fun piece. 

I really enjoy the not super high tech home movie kinda quality of it. *shrug* 

I'll be doing a little back and forth from MI to CA in the next couple months again. Hopefully skip some of the winter coming up! Also, I've got a couple really wonderful people working on some new TV shows as crew and have asked me to come visit, so I'll be a little bit of everywhere. 

One of those friends just text me. Man, Lucy really lets everyone know when she wants me to see her. This is always how it happens, how I know if I 'miss it': 

I love you, Mama Lucy. And I know why you came thru. *wink* I see you! Got it!

<talking into walkie-talkie> Message received. Over.


Okay, toodles for now! 


Sunday, October 26, 2014


Nothing insightful tonight, folks.

I'm just gonna bitch.


Well... Because it's 5:30 in the morning and I need to be up early. I have a ton of shit to do tomorrow.

But no. 

I've been laying in bed for the past 4 hours. I'm actually truly tired and desiring sleep, believe it or not, and it has to be one of those nights where no position feels comfortable. Not one of the 3,000 I've tried.

On top of that - I've had 3 or 4 drop ins, someone I can't see or hear rustling around my house, and now I'm fucking STARVING.

Not a, "It's straight boo, just grab yourself a granola bar" - no. Not at all. 

This is a, "Listen up. You better get your frustrated ass outta bed right now and go make a fucking feast for yourself. The fuck were you thinking? Not eating fourth meal? Please disregard me again. I wish you would. You'll regret it."

So I got pizza from earlier.

On top of that - both of my furbabies were sleeping with me.

When I get up, they think I'm getting up for the day.

So they follow me into my kitchen, get all excited like, "Yes! She's awake!" Want food, to play, to jump in every window... 

...when really, I'm just eating. 

Then I go lay back in bed, like now, and they're still sitting in the kitchen meowing (sounds like howling) like, "Mom! Come back!"

It's so cute. They'll eventually come to my room and sit just inside my door and meow until I look at them. Then run away, come back, try to get me up one more time, then usually jump back up onto my bed and go back to sleep until I do wake up for real.

*sigh* God I love cats. All animals. How does someone not like animals?

Oh, and I'm working on quitting smoking. Yes, three cheers for me. After eating is the hardest.

I've never understood those people like Kyle and Jared who can legit just stop smoking one day. Don't get it. That's the willpower of God. 

...I'm too bored and pissed off sometimes.

But, I'm trying. I've cut down a lot so, that counts for something.

It's really more of a habit thing for me at this point than a chemical thing. 

In due time.

Okay so I'm back in bed, it's almost 6a, my cats are howling - I think I'm gonna ask Jonathan to knock me out cuz I'm fucked right now.

Green Tea Frappe at Starbucks is the only way I'll survive tomorrow (5a be damned, it's not the next day until I wake up). 

Wish me sleep! 


Friday, October 24, 2014

..just talkin' to my dead friends..

Jared... You arrogant son of a bitch...

Don't do that stupid, "You're cute when you're angry" laugh. I hate you right now.

It's gonna take me waaaay longer to get past anger with you than it did with Kyle. Really? Really?! Who jumps off a building?! You're a fucking idiot. 

Fuck you.


...and don't look around like I'm talking to someone else either. You know I'm talking to you, motherfucker. 

...AND, if you could stop fucking with my TV, that would be greatly appreciated.  


When I told you about my dead people thing, you were the first person who said, "Wow... That's cool. Really? Tell me about..." And started asking tons of questions.

I remember the first time I came to your house. 

You lead me up to your room, and nervously gestured around. "Can you get anything in here? At all?"

I remember telling you what I was getting and you sitting on your bed heavily. "That's really accurate..."

I remember when we were writing the script together about the fucking Ouija board - God damnit, Hollywood Studios - and we talked about ghosts for a little while.

"You would never haunt me, would you?"

You laughed, "What's your definition of 'haunt'?"

"Come on..."

"No." You got eerily serious, "I wouldn't." Beat. "I'd talk to you, tho. Make sure you were okay, all that."

The night you killed yourself, I got nothing. Nothing that I remember anyways. 

The night before your funeral, your guardian angel visited me in a dream and took me to you. I still, to this day, wonder what it meant. I mean, I know what it meant - I speak English - but, you know.

Why were you unconscious? In all black? In the hospital bed, in the hospital, in a room with no lights on?

I get why your angel was a nurse - she was beautiful. Blonde, in an old nurse uniform. Stood out against the modern backdrop that was the hospital.

I still wonder why she took me into the hallway, privately, and told me to tell your parents to check your computer. 

I did pass that along. I've never received any further details on anything regarding that, tho.

That, I'm also still curious about.

Today - you poked me.

Cold, firm poke to my left cheek.


Kyle kisses me. It feels like a shock to my face.

What is it with my face and you guys?

So I look, and there you are. Sitting down next to me.



"Fuck you."

Laughing, "Oh come on."


Silence. Just you, sitting there beside me. 

I'm thankful I can't see you like you were in that casket. Or, well, I'm thankful you don't show yourself to me that way.


I look over, and a bunch of leaves blew over my way and stopped just before they hit my feet.

"Cool, huh?"

I sighed and looked ahead. Not answering.

"Okay. Fine. I'll leave you alone."

You were gone.

I don't know when I'll get over the anger from what you did. Every detail and feeling behind it.

Kyle... At least you realize what a shittastical decision you made.

You're such an... Ascended spirit.

I knew you would do amazing things in the film industry, as you'd always dreamed. I knew your brilliance in every script meant more than you believed. 

Now, you make the sun shine. Clouds part, and stars sparkle. My Grandpa usually makes the weather work in my favor, but you help with the other stuff.

The other day, your favorite song came on. One of them, 'When Soul Meets Body' by Death Cab For Cutie. I smiled, knew it was you, and on a day the sun hadn't shined at all - the clouds literally parted and shined on me until I got out of my car at my destination.

I remember when I made one of my road trips from Michigan to California.

My parents have always rolled their eyes at me when they say, "Be careful!" And I say, "I won't be alone. Kyle comes, too."

They've seen and heard, but still hesitate to believe. Shame.

Like an idiot, I drove this particular trip the whole way. Didn't stop. 33+ hours in the car. Straight shot. 

Not very intelligent.

To my credit, it wasn't until night time in - I think - Arizona? Or Nevada? - that I began to really panic.

I'm scared of mountains as it is. Driving thru Colorado was horrible enough - add sleep deprivation, and obviously the dark. Those damn reflectors on the lanes were both a blessing and a curse, but didn't do much to help when fucking semis fly past you. 

So, I was panicking. 

Almost in tears.

There's nowhere to pull off, and - Hello! Fucking death everywhere! Mountains and death. Everywhere.

First person I thought of? Kyle.

He was so good at driving anywhere and everywhere. So, I called on his ass.

"Kyle, I'm freaking the fuck out. Please help me. I can't drive anymore."

I remember a semi flying around me, starting to cry, then I heard Kyle in my right ear from behind me. 

"Hey, HEY, April, calm down. You've got this."

"Help me, Kyle."

"You can do this. You've done this before." He reached around from behind and grabbed the steering wheel. "Relax. Panicking doesn't help anything."

I did relax. 

"You're the best friend ever."

"I know." 

I felt Lucy somewhere in there too, and really don't remember much until the sun came back up again. Very much a blur, but I remember that.

Even now, if my phone goes off in my purse and even reach to grab it I sometimes hear Kyle say, "No!" Very sternly. 

Tonight, I went outside to have a cigarette. Not even 10 minutes later, here comes Jared.

He sat down next to me - again. 

"Ready to talk yet?"


He sighed, "Okay." Then left.

Little bit later, I'm in the bathroom. Open the door, there you are. In the hallway. 

I ignore you.

"I know you know I'm here."

"Yes, Jared, I know you do."

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"I'm still mad at you, man. I'm not contributing to a conversation where you think what you did was 'so cool'. No."

There was a long pause. He stood there while I brushed my teeth. 

When I was done, and went to move to my room, "April..."

"...I can't, Jared. Please go away."

And he did. 


I'm lucky.

I'm so thankful to be able to hear and see what very few can. 

Again, it's not every day - I'm not a professional - but it's enough. And I'm so grateful.

Even tho they're gone... Every so often, or when I need them, they're there.

All of them.

They're there for you, too, ya know.

I wish you could all see and hear what I see and hear. 

Thank you all. You know who you are. 

Kyle. Jared. Fuckers. You both killed yourselves so, yes, you owe it to me to stick around. 

Even when I'm mad at you. 

Which isn't even really mad. It looks like it and sounds like it... But, I'm just hurting. Mourning. Missing you, and angry with what you did. 

If only I could punch you both in the face. Just once. One good time.

Then hug you and sob for hours, of course. 

Thanks for sticking with me and making shit happen. Or just helping me with whatever. 

In a place where I can't bother you. I can't come find you. I can't go see you. I can't find you... 

You come and find me.

That means more than I could ever explain. 

Thank you. 

I love you guys. I'll miss you every day. 



I'm often unaware - regardless how frequently I speak about it - of my place in this world.

I'm not exactly any one specific thing.

I'm several different things. All rolled up into what makes me who I am.

I have a strong will to stand and defend the defenseless. To be to as many others what no one was to me. 

I feel like I know everything, but absolutely nothing, at the same time.

Like I am a rookie, and a vet.

I feel so connected to so many things that the energies alone often speak to me without having to say a word... And explaining that is impossible. 

Really explaining it, anyways.

So many experiences and pains and lessons and traumas and blessings and miracles from so many lifetimes and open windows live inside me.

They say when we are born, we fall asleep. Only when we die are we woken up. Or when we discover 'higher consciousness'.

I'd been living there - here - for so long... It was just running in the background sometimes. And I didn't know it had a name.

Reading all these things would make one assume, justly, that I'm some hippie who hugs trees all day. Or that I'm somewhere hunched over a crystal ball flipping tarot cards. 

When really... I've got my nose buried in some filmmaking material that I'm either learning from or creating myself. I curse like a sailor, laugh and play like a child, love fiercely and prefer hoodies and DC's over gowns and heels (unless it's 1950s stuff <swoon>).

I'm not insanely outgoing. Shocker, eh? I'm fairly quiet in groups or with people I don't know well (unless it's business). That doesn't mean I can't get loud and stereotypically Italian... But I don't walk around that way. Or live day to day, moment to moment that way.

I'm the quiet one in the corner processing the information I receive from 'higher consciousness' about every person/place/thing. 

People expect me to be one thing, and are often shocked/disappointed/personally offended when I'm the opposite.

Because I'd rather sit home and read poetry, or sit on the roof and stargaze - instead of go to a party, or some pointless event... I'm the weird one. 


Maybe this is what Jared meant when he said I was an interesting person.

I don't know.

Today was full of business consulting so, maybe I'm still on that train. Spent two hours explaining how the media works, and how to tailor it around the specific brand, so... Yeah. 

I hope Kyle and Jared are proud of me. Everything I've taught myself. 

I don't know... I'm tired, and I want a cuddle buddy.

Am I making sense? I don't feel like I am.

Where are my cats?

What's something good to watch on Netflix? Or run in the background...

It's almost 5a.

Legit falling asleep.


Is that fucked up that I crave coffee at night?

What does that say about me?

Anyone else have that?

I had coffee past 5p & I knew I shouldn't. Hence this 5a blog post about... Not a god damn thing. 

Wishing I had energy to get up and go find my cats.

Oh really quick:

Anyone reading that has a normal or even decent view of the person I am, please stop reading now. 

I'm so infrequently considered 'normal' - not that I want to be, or aim for it, because I don't - but this will fuck that up.

Current or former self injurers will get this... ever perform surgeries on yourself?

Like splinter or wart or questionable mole removal?

Well... you'd probably have to have been SI to get that that's nothing for us.

So I have had this mole or wart thing for awhile. On my hand, nothing really noticeable or growing it just bothers me. Got removed once at the doctor and grew right back.

Today it pissed me off. So, I decided to cut it off.

Little by little, since my doctor told me when she did it, "I can't go any more, there's an artery right there."

Thank god I heard that, because I considered doing it myself the first time.

Why bother when I can do it myself? Ya know? I watched her do it. I got this.

Don't worry - before I did it I did a personal inventory. 'Am I using this as an excuse to SI? Am I ok right now? Is there something I'm not owning or admitting to myself?' So on.

So as I was doing it, it hurt. Super, super bad. Obviously. For a little while anyways. 

Here's the silver lining...

Regardless my previous inventory, I thought to myself, 'Do I have any pain or anger I can feed to this so it doesn't hurt so bad? Any emotions I need to purge? Channel into this?'

I had nothing. Nothing at all.

That's a really, really good thing.

And it's been awhile since I had been in that position to search my whole self and discover that. 

Very cool thing.

For anyone that foolishly continued reading and now thinks I'm a deranged loony toon - it sounds worse than it was, and I'd done much, much worse to myself in the past.

It actually looks really good. I'm very proud of myself.

Don't make me put a disclaimer on this, either. I'm aware the fact that I did/can do that isn't normal. Don't be an asshole and try that at home. Go to a doctor. 

(I guess I did put a disclaimer on that.) 

Ladies: don't you hate when you're pulling up some super cute lace underwear and you rip the lace with your nails?

I was pouting for a solid minute straight in the bathroom today. Ripped a pretty cute pair. 

I have a lingerie addiction, and no one to wear it for. Pity. 

Now I'm just random facting everyone...

I'm known to over share. 

Sorry not sorry. My blog! 

It's a setback of being honest, I guess. Over sharing. Not caring who knows what. 

It's refreshing, really. Pointless honesty. Or facts. Or... Whatever this is... 

See? Interesting. 

Okay really, passing out... Goodnight. 


Monday, October 20, 2014

'Higher Consciousness'

People don't tell you that life is a solo mission.

Sure, there's quotes and philosophy's you can find along the road that points to that inevitable discovery... But it's not something that's made aware to you right off the bat.

We're so wound up in preoccupying thoughts and motions. So busy with thinking and feeling as if we should have the perfect parents - perfect friendships. Best friends, family, wonderful jobs and never ending joys in every circumstance we're met by, or with.

And yes - that is true. The joys and miracles everywhere part.

But it seems like we're only married to that concept if it involves other people.

If we have these miraculous relationships by the dozen.

What most don't know is that the joys and miracles being given in abundance is a byproduct of our own individual consciousness. Our own thoughts. Our independent actions and positivity.

Yes, life is meant to be lived in relationships with others. 


To enrich the stories of all involved.

To further enhance this world, and the consciousness of those in it. 

To give more than we take.

To continuously learn, and grow.

To be reminded time and time again that miracles do, in fact, exist.

Not because our joy is measured in how many friends we have.

To use Tyler Perry's analogy on this... Everyone who comes into your life is compatible to the parts of a tree.

The 'tree-theory', if you will.

Follow along...

Some people who come into your life are like leaves. They're just kinda.. There. They come in by the dozens. They're pretty, colorful... But they don't really do much. 

Wind blows, they're over there.

Sun shines, they come back.

They take nutrients from the tree. Really, all they do is take. They may provide shade from time to time, but when a storm blows thru your life they won't stick around.

They're 'seasonal people', and that's ok.

That's all they're meant to do. To be. To teach you a lesson perhaps, then go.

Don't be mad or upset with them. That's their purpose. 

More will come back when the sun in shining on you. 

But if you confuse 'leaf people' with some lifetime expectation, you'll forever be disappointed. 

Some people are like branches. 

They may help you out. Be a little more present. Maybe help you grow a bit... Give a little, even.

But they're all different. 

They may stick around in a storm, in chaos... But don't put any real weight - expectations - on them. Weight gets too heavy? Need them to hold you down?

They can't.

They'll snap and break. They're gone.

They're not there for a lifetime either.

Most people fuck around and marry leaf people, branch people, and wonder why there's so much hell in their lives.

So much pain and constant disappointment. 

How can you expect people to be what they aren't?

What the world just didn't intend them to be for you?

Why would you make a lifetime commitment to someone, some thing, some situation that you know damn well you didn't really, truly desire? You knew wasn't right, or good, or even a fit for you. Why?

Most people look for leaf and branch people 'for the moment'. People to surround themselves with to feel more content. To have the names and numbers in their phonebook. To build a false cushion around their emotions, and exterior self.

But the people you can call at 3 in the morning aren't leaf or branch people....

...they're 'root people'.

Did you know that the biggest, most beautiful trees - the ones with thousands of leaves and branches - the ones standing several feet tall - are supported entirely by a system of only, maybe, 2-4 roots?

The roots at the bottom of that tree that no one can see are very, very few.

They will give that tree everything it needs. They will give it the strongest support, and hold it down for the long haul.

Root people are rare. But when you find yourself some root people... Hold onto them.

They won't go anywhere. In a storm, or change of season, they hang onto you. They make sure you're okay, and do all that they can to be for and with you.

They're present 24/7, as long as you need them. 

And if you've got any sense, you give back just as much as you recieve.

It's not about the 200 people party. It's about the 2 or 3 people who will do more for you, with you, than those 200 people combined.

But to even find those people - to see them when they present themselves - you have to know who and what you are.

Inside. Independently. 

You have to - for yourself, & by yourself - create a world where those root people want to be. Where you make space for them when you find them.

To follow signs, guidance, your inner wisdom, and let it lead you to a better - more positive - abundant life.

Solid roots can't grow or support a rotting tree.

For those of us who have taken the steps to open our consciousness... Don't be frustrated with others who don't know how. Who can't differentiate the leaf, branch, tree people. Who can't see signs and notice things/people/places that have been handed to them by the universe. 

It's frustrating, but this is their path to follow. 

After all... What good is a lesson if you don't learn it yourself?

And how sad. How unfortunate. That so many walk around virtually blind. That it isn't until some are on their death beds that they realize all these things. 

That it isn't until some have backed themselves into a corner and have nowhere else to turn that they filter back thru their choices and realize where the world poked holes and shined light. And they just walked on by. 

That it isn't until they've been used and abused by so many blind people - so many leaves and branches - that they think, "Why the fuck didn't I just say no?" Or "..reach out.." Or "make that connection" or "that call".

The world is never over. Your circle of miracles doesn't stop. It just gets put on hold until you give the world, and yourself, permission to believe again. To strive for more. To live in positive for yourself. 

To not settle on any leaf person or situation. To be willing to possibly step outside your comfort zone for something better. A more joyus experience. 

But the leaf people are so abundant. Much more common. People look around and automatically assume the person with those 200 leaves is the person really moving forward in life. Really going places.

When you can spot leaf people.. No matter how dressed up. No matter how they present themselves.. You can see from a mile away how false that is.

But it doesn't even matter who had what, or how it all looks.

It's what's on the inside.

There could be a beautiful tree - just breathtaking. Thousands of leaves, tons of branches... And it's rotting from the inside out.

Meanwhile, a couple yards away, there's a seed.

One single, independent seed. It doesn't show anything yet. Nothing at all. But it, by itself, is doing everything it needs to to be the one tree in that whole park that will be the one that stands tall for hundreds of years.

Think about that.

The one seed that no one even knows is planted. The one seed that people stomp all over, let their dogs piss on... It, independently, is creating. Visualizing, and being.

It doesn't matter that no one can see it. Doesn't matter that when it first sprouts up, no one even knows what it is let alone thinks it'll ever be that it is.

It's gonna do it anyways.

It doesn't even matter if someone cuts it down. 

Inside, where no one can see, it's still believing. Doing and being. 

And it will be.

That's what life is.

You, alone, must shift your consciousness. Live in the land of probability. 

Turn what people shrug at and say, "Eh, well, I guess anything is possible." In your mind? Turn that into probable. 

The most powerful tool in this whole wide world is already yours.

Your mind.

What you think, believe, visualize and create inside yourself.

Thoughts create things. You create your world, your life. You and you alone.

This is difficult for most people to comprehend. I chose life when I was 16, and I've been on this path ever since. Only to be rocketed back to this 'spiritual practice', as one would call it, with career difficulties.

These concepts, practices, philosophies, principles, facts, I had running in the back of my mind. Assuming they were just working.

It is a practice. It's an everyday thing. A moment to moment series of actions that you and only you apply inside yourself.

It's whatever you want it to be.

It's your life. Your world.

Designed for you, by you.

With Angels and higher consciousness continually striving to guide and assist.

It's the same force that makes the sun move, and holds planets where they are in space. Makes seeds bloom and turns embryos into babies - human beings - in a woman's body.

That's the force. The spirit. The consciousness we are all tuned into if we want to be.

For ourselves. By ourselves.

It happens, works, is present. 

Whatever you call it is between you and it.

Just know that it's there. 

And it's within all of us.

The fact that you were born and built of nothing.. That a heart grew inside you.. Bones and all.. Inside a woman's body.. Isn't that proof enough?

Isn't that, in itself, the very example of the power that is God/Angels/Higher Conciousness - or whatever you name it to be?

That's some power. Force. Magic. 

We hold all of it. Every second, of every day.

Don't worry about outside things. 

Don't worry about other people, their opinions of you... Who you have and don't. 

Worry about what's going on inside. 

When you work on the inside, the outside will fall into place.

You'll discover people and places and things that are aligned with what you've silently been envisioning - believing - telling yourself. Miracles, answers and abundance will present itself in everything. In every person, place and thing. 

When you - for yourself, by yourself - are so empowered and awake to the one, the all, the higher consciousness... That you no longer need or desire to put your happiness in anyone else's pocket.  

That's the only way to move thru life. 

And you can do it.


Sunday, October 19, 2014

Conversations with my Mom: Fudge

*Phone rings, I answer*

Me: "Hey Mom."

Mom: "I got you some fudge."

Me: "Oh! Thank you! What kind?"

Mom: "Uhm..." <cellophane rustling> "...says here, 'Death By Chocolate'."

Me: "OOOOHHHH... What's in it?"

*scarcastic pause*

Mom: "Chocolate, chocolate, and more chocolate! CHOCOLATE UNTIL YOU DIE!"

<me, laughing uncontrollably>


Leadership & Creativity


So much yes.

Marianne Williamson on leadership,  creativity & more.

I strongly urge everyone to watch. It's so universally true, & applicable. To all.

Saturday, October 18, 2014


Quick shoutout to everyone who sits awake at night and watches the stars, the moon, the water... And wonders...

What the fuck is this 'life' thing all about?

I feel you.

Friday, October 17, 2014

House, M.D.

I truly believe that House is the most brilliantly written character that may ever be, or has ever been, on TV. 

Hugh Laurie is a genius. 

The characters around him at any given time hold their own traits, but 'enhance' him beautifully.

...& for me, personally, he's a character on television I can closely identify with. 

Well, next to Buffy anyways. *wink*

Have I already written about this? I might have. Potential round 2!

It's whatever.


I appreciate a variety of people. All different kinds, with all kinds of different personality traits.

But I'd love to find a doctor, hell - especially a friend - like House.

You never know where you stand. You never question what isn't being said. You always hear what you need to hear, and depending on how flexible a person you are, you can remove your feelings and hear it for what it is. 

What I love most about people like that is...

They are the people that will trade their lives for yours. That would take a bullet for you, no question. That would risk everything for you. They are the people who will go to extreme lengths to protect you, and never leave your side. They will always and forever be your 'ride or die'. They are the most loyal, hold the deepest well of compassion, and will always - always - rise above to be there for you.

But, most people can't get past the honesty - which is usually delivered in a colorful way - to find that. To experience that relationship.

My friend Ashley loves to find random shows on Netflix to have us all watch. I've watched House before, but I stopped half way thru. I've always had these, revelations, about this character. But tonight, I decided to type about it.

Ashley called and asked what I was doing.

"Watching 'House'."

"Love that show. He's such an asshole, tho."

"Really?" It's interesting, to me, how people perceive things so differently. "Why do you think that?"

She went thru all the things one would probably say. "He's rude, inconsiderate..." So on and so forth.

"Interesting. I absolutely love him."

Her turn. "Why?!"

"Because... His 'rudeness' and being 'inconsiderate' is really how I feel one who isn't comfortable with honesty lables personality traits."


Love her, but she's not a 'deep talker' so we changed topics.

I know House. That character is so much of what I am, it's insane.

Or, that's how I feel anyways.

That, and I've known a person or two in my time like that. And it always proves itself factual for me... They really are the best people. The very, very best. 

At the core of everything. They are. 

That's the type of people you never fucking find. They're so hard to come by. I wish I knew more of them. 

If you're someone who can take how you feel out of it, anyways. If you're someone who looks for lessons in people, they're the ones that you find it from.

Also, they're the ones who usually have the deepest and darkest pains. Far beyond anything anyone could comprehend. 

They didn't develop those traits for nothing.

For most, it was a way to survive. A survival technique. 

And because the majority sees some arrogant asshole who is rude and has no consideration for others... They, usually, don't have that many friends. 

But - that's ok - because that's probably how it's always been for them.

I said I identify with that character because I see a lot of myself in him. A lot of times I hear lines of his and find myself thinking, "I would have said the same thing." Or, "I would have done the same thing." 

Not in the same ways, but, I'm not talking identical here people. Just very similar basics.

What I have grown to change, improve, about who I am - is falling silent when I know someone won't take what I want to say correctly. I try to be compassionate about it, kind, but I know some of my friends think, "My god, what a bitch." To some things I've said. Overall, I have adapted the 'if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything'. Which also backfires.

Especially for women. 

Because silence automatically equals something. Then people hit me with the, "Just say it. Come on, just say it. I know you have something to say. Say it!"

Because when you're a women, it's much fewer and far between that anyone hears something any man would say, much like House does, and go, "Damn. You're right."

It's the same principal that is: a man can say it/do it, he's the man. The boss. A woman says/does the same thing, she's a bitch. Who the fuck does she think she is?

I love people like that tho. I really do. I appreciate it.

I don't have many friends, and the friends I do have understand it. Oddly enough, it continues to roll over in personal truths which equal to be facts to me, personally.

As bold, or seemingly rude as one may interpret me to be at times I'm just honestly trying to help/improve/change for the better...

I'm still always the one that everyone goes to first and foremost when any serious issue arises. Personal, financial, with business or some huge life crisis.

I'm still always the one asked first to do the 'responsible' things. Like babysit, house sit, or accompany any surgical procedure. 

I'm the one who all eyes fall on when it's some questionable social situation. Statements that follow are usually, "I knew you would handle it. You're so good at that!" or "You've got balls!" When in all actuality, I'm just honest. Not worried about being taken correctly, or being nice. Also, because people who know me know that I will be there. Period. End of story. I always have your back when you need me.

Yet, always the first to offend. Unintentionally.

Which may be why I 'click' so well with people who are quiet, to themselves, and more sensitive. The more intelligent, question askers. 

Sounds backwards, but it has always worked. Clicked. Been special and meaningful. 

They aren't quickly offended by my, "That's pathetic." Which, of course, I would only be that honest when I know you very well. But they aren't automatically ready to be offended. 

They meet that statement with things like, "Why do you think that?" or "What makes you say that?" A desire to understand it. Where did that opinion/statement/fact come from?

I can honestly say that I haven't met anyone willing to ask those kinds of questions since Kyle and Jared. Which makes me miss them that much more.

I'm not some arrogant asshole who runs around giving no fucks about others. There are some of those out there, tho. 

I'm just someone who appreciates honesty, and tailors it to the conversation. Certain people, privately, I give it a different way than I give it to others. More loving, compassionately. With a hug or a positive statement before and after. 

Some people, I don't give it to at all.

They can't handle it, it won't do a damn bit of difference, or it isn't my business, or the time or place.

But it's still in there. Silently floating around. 

House... He just says it all. Doesn't matter.

I love that. I respect that about his character. The writers... I love that they put truth behind it all for you to find if you know how. Or, until the end of the episode. Or, until it has to be proven. 

That's awesome.

I fucking love House. I want him as my doctor, and my friend.

Because when something fucking insane is going on, and you can't think of anyone who would show up - he would. With bells on.

Because when something bold needs to be done, a gigantic step outside what's acceptable needs to be done to save a life - he does it. Without fear, or concern about anyone else's opinion of it.

Because when you have no idea how to fix something, or what to do about something that would render everyone else silent, or send them packing - he'll be there, be present. Not be afraid, and really stand beside you. 

So would I. 

& in life, everyone should have someone like that in their corner. 

They're out there. Give them a chance. 

See beyond your feelings, & preconceived notions. Find the friendship that would go beyond and rise above absolutely anything and everything. 

You won't be sorry you took the chance.

BAM! Back to marveling at how wonderful and beautiful and brilliant House is. As a show, as a work of TV gold, and as a superb fantasy land/alternate reality. 

...can I jump in the TV and make a new friend? 

Get on it, Apple!

Great show. Brilliant writing. Fantastic character. 

Best example of this entire blog post?

House, M.D. Season 3: Episode 12 
"One Day, One Room".

That is the best episode of anything I think I've ever seen. God, I love that girl. She knows what's up. She sees it. & that old man? Breaks my fucking heart. 

And the perfect summary of everything I've just said. 

Ps- whoever is responsible for that specific episode needs to win every award for writing that could possibly be awarded. 

Go watch that episode, & be deeply moved.

...give people a chance...


Wednesday, October 15, 2014

Fuck you, Jared A.D. Radtke

I hate you, Jared. 

I fucking hate you. So, so much.

In the most horrific, crude, vulgar definition of the word.

I simply can not believe what you did to your parents.

Your friends.

Your family.

The film industry.

..& me.

You lied to me.


What makes your lies worse, more maddening, is you had the fucking nerve to look me in the face - while I was mourning - and promise me you would never do the exact thing I was in mourning because of?

You knew all about Kyle. 

You took many more breaks than you should have to bring me coffee, or food, on set, and talk to me about Kyle.

"Are you okay?"

Do you know, to this day, you are the only person - yes, including absolutely everybody I know - that ever checked up on me, emotionally? About Kyle?

When Kyles Mom would call, you - as the DP/Cinematographer - kept people away from me. I can still see you. With every pass from the production trailer to the set, you kept a compassionate eye on me. The silent Jared found his voice. Surprising everyone, telling them to give me privacy. 

When I came back to set, and found my mark, you came over to me and whispered in my ear, "Are you ok?"


You pulled back to look at me seriously. "Sure? I can find a reason to delay if you need a moment."

Fuck you.

You knew how horrific it was.

You knew how horrible his family dealt.

How I dealt.

...and you still, STILL, chose to jump off the God damn 9th floor?!

You heard me when I said, "I couldn't handle this again."

I know you did.

I KNOW you did,

Because you just looked at me. And hugged me.

Was that a sign?

Should I have done something then?

I can see you now - chuckling at my anger. Probably because you think it's cute.

I can see you with that stupid, irritating smirk, walking over to me with arms outstretched. Attempting to comfort me.

Like you don't know what's coming. 

WHAM! I would land an epic right hook to the side of your face.

You were so fucking smart.

How many hours did we spend where you explained every poem, every story you had on your blog, to me?

You could have graduated from those Ivy League schools 5x's over.

...had to stop typing a moment ago to hang out with a kitten.

Grey striped kitten wandered right up to me. I loved on it, and it scurried down the pier. 

Ugh! Damnit, Jared, you know me too well. 

Kitty love = No more anger.

You would send me a kitten. 


I won't go over and over the anger from the suicide itself. I can't.

...but I can't understand how someone so smart, so brilliant, wasn't fucking able to put 2 and 2 together and realize, "When I jump from this building, my entire body is going to basically crumble. People will see it, my parents will have to identify it, and it will be almost impossible to put me back together again."


Couldn't fucking figure that one out, Mr. Genius.

But you were able to text me one of the most beautiful, inspiring, lengthy texts you've ever sent me. It wasn't loony or broken, either. Seemed completely competent.

You knew what the fuck you were doing.

Jeezus Christ - it's all horrifying. Fuck, I live in constant agony and trauma. But YOU?! You did the impossible. 

You accomplished what I was certain would never be for me. 

You made me appreciate Kyle for his chosen way out.

You made every single other death look extremely peaceful, and tranquil. Regardless how horrifying it actually was.

I've said it once, I'll say it again:

If only everyone saw you in that casket.


To stand there, clutching a sobbing Matt to keep myself from collapsing...

...and realizing... 

...lying in this casket...

...all broken, stitched, glued and pieces back together again...

...was the man who taught me more things about filmmaking, editing and cinematography than I could ever count. 

...was the man who kept absolutely everyone - everyone - out of his life. His personal space. His circle. 

But for some reason, I was one of the very very few people you let in. Openly.

...was the man who fought for my pride, my name, and stood up for me when absolute no one else would. 

...was the man who was and did countless other things - but was only the second man I'd let come close to me. 

Who I was, what I was.

Just Kyle. Then you.

If I could trade my life to bring you and Kyle back again, I would.

You guys were the kind of brilliant that makes $40 million a year, wins Jeopardy! as easily as thumb-wars, uses $100 dollar words every two sentences, creates artwork with alarming brilliance, and can literally change the world.

Both of you.

I'm just some passionate, street-smart, funny chick from Detroit.

But -

You taught me everything you know.

I still remember hanging out with you at the editing room in the studio.

"April, this stuff is boring. And it takes hours. You should go to the hotel and get some sleep."

"But I'd really like to learn about it. If you don't mind babbling to me."

You stated at me for a minute, wordlessly gave me your comfy chair, grabbed another one from another room for yourself, turned to the computer, and while the footage from that day was uploading - you opened another screen on another computer, pulled up different footage, and began teaching me about colors and color correcting and so many other things.

You'll never understand how much I appreciated that, and all the other things you taught me. Ever.

How I could ask 2,000 questions, and they were never stupid or without an answer.

How, eventually, you began asking me questions. About who I was, what I liked, didn't like... Like you actually gave a shit that I was a human being. 

You and Kyle treated me with a level of respect I've never, ever, been met with from anyone else.

You believed in me. So much.

You never looked at me like I was stupid, or crazy, for anything. Ever. You always seemed captivated by me, in awe of my quirkiness. 

You never made me feel like an outcast because of my 'paranormal encounters'. In fact, I remember your call that one night, "So, I'm working on a script... Do you feel comfortable enough to answer some questions about ghosts and Angels?"

You valued what I said as much as I valued you, & every brilliant and miraculous thing you were.

Right before you jumped off that building you told me that I was a light in this world. That you knew I would go far. That as much as I think you taught me - I taught you. 

Then, you killed yourself.

The space between my breaths when I got that phonecall was filled with silent and repetitive, "nogodpleasenotagainnogodpleasenotagain"

I hate you for this.

As brilliant as you were... As Kyle was... I guess, in a way, I carry a part of both of you.

I will forever carry what you took the time to teach me, and apply it to everything I do.

I still aspire to learn, as you know... But regardless, I'll continue your passions for as long as I'm allowed to be on this earth.

I hate you for what you did. 

I hate you for leaving me with one of the absolute deepest pains, ever. One I'm sure can't be topped. For the love of God, I hope it isn't topped.

I can't take it anymore.

I really can't.

Fuck you, Jared.

I miss you. So much.

One positive thing did come out of all this pain, for myself. Personally.

Nothing - and I do mean nothing - can hurt me. 

No rejection, no loss, no 'you weren't cast' or 'I won't meet with you' or anything at all. Not when I carry the pain of you and Kyle intentionally removing yourselves from this world.

And having to hold my ticket, being seated front and center.

I do know energy drinks caused a level of psychosis within you. 

You wouldn't listen when Joni, Faye and I begged you to stop drinking those damn things. 

I don't care if a film needs to get made - you don't slam a case of 5 Hour's.

I know a side effect of your insane brilliance was being rediculously over-analytical. Everyone and everything analyzed. It worked great for your scripts, your poems, but not for your sanity.

You held everyone at such a distance. You were so isolated inside yourself, you didn't let anyone in. Except me, and a select few others. You were so selective, and always assumed someone coming in equaled 'bad'.

I am very honored you saw my spirit, my kind heart, my open soul... But unless someone worked to get to you, no go.

Behind your isolation and solitude was the most gentle giant. An amazing cuddle buddy. A wonderful spirit. The most amazing person to talk to about absolutely everything. A skilled teacher. You would give everything to someone who had nothing, then walk away in silence. 

You and Kyle are my Angels now. 

I guess I can find gratitude in that. 

That even in death, the afterlife... You guys still believe in me, and haven't left me. 

My prayer, wish, hope for the world and everyone in it, is that no one has to shoulder this kind of indescribable pain or trauma.


Thank God I am one tough cookie. If I wasn't, I don't think I'd have been able to survive. 


Please take the time to visit Jared's blog: