Monday, March 30, 2015


I love the Internet.

Sometime, it sucks. There's creepers left and right, under every cloak imaginable. But when you ignore it, and keep moving - listening to intuition and making the connections regardless - you meet some amazing people. 

I met the amazing Mindie Adamos ( on the picture app for your phone, Instagram. 

We don't really recall exactly how we came to connect, Mindie thinks it was via her sister which I'm sure it was - but it's crazy how nothing is a coincidence.

We were put before each other, for a reason. Not discovered until we chatted and got to know each other. 

Just using it as an example... There are absolutely 0 coincidences in life. 

I'm not gonna share what's cooking just yet, but it's so uplifting and refreshing to connect with new people who are so in line with you, and your life and your soul and all that happy crap.

Tonight, we unofficially/officially met via Skype, and had the most uplifting chat. So positive and wonderful. 

I'd like to say it's more common for that to happen, but it's not. Not in my life, anyways. So far. 

Slowly but surely it is. And it's beautiful. 

It just goes to show what I always talk about everywhere. On Tarot Tuesday with Boss Butcher over on Terror Troop Poscast, and on here... Take those chances. 

It's so amazing how meeting someone can affirm so many amazing things. That everyone meets for a reason, that you're not alone, that there is a positve force in the world, that prayers are answered, that you're not crazy, that things are possible... So many things. 

All, in this case, due to a connection via Instagram with someone I (and she) has never met. 

On the flip side, how absolutely lovely that she didn't know me at all. She never met me, yet she took time she didn't have to to comment on some things and keep in touch with me - help me with my Grandma's passing more than she'll ever know - and to actually be willing to chat with me on Skype, & exchange emails.

To get to know me. To believe in me. To trust me. 

This really is a beautiful world. 

Same with the absolutely amazing Holly Fulger ('Ellen', 'Zenon', 'The Hollywood Beauty Detective'). She took a chance, believed in me and trusted me, too. Not just with who I am and that I'm genuine, but with a project that she put her blood/sweat/tears into. To confide in me, and open the door to allow me to - in a way - be a part of it. To offer what I can to her, and her mission. A connection was formed that will also extend beyond the Internet. For the highest possible purpose/intention for so, so many. 



That in any place, on any platform, great people are roaming around. Open and willing to share their love and light, if even a random conversation or uplifting topic. 

Gratitude for the Internet, and technology. Had we just walked past each other somewhere, this wouldn't have happened. That we're in different states, so we probably would have never met at all.

But, since we were on Instagram - and both are open and compassionate, and curious and optimistic... Something beautiful, probably beyond even our current comprehension, is forming. 

Don't let the signs, people, situations pass you by. No matter what they are. No matter how they come to you.

Be open to all of it. 

(...but be smart, too. I'm not saying to throw common sense out the window.) 


Friday, March 27, 2015

My Grandma got her wings.

So, my Grandma passed away today.

They asked me if I wanted to go 'view the body'. I promptly said, "No, thank you." I couldn't. That, and I wanted to give her kids alone time. 

I cried and started talking to her. I'm already anxious to see her. 

I called a cousin to tell her, and she said she had a dream about Grandma last night. 

I feel like she's already been around me. A lot. I'm second guessing everything. This is gonna be frustrating. 

I talked to her extensively the last time I was with her, the other day. Telling her how cool it was to be in spirit. That she'll never need to shave her legs again, or take a shower. 

And I told her she can be everywhere whenever she wants. And she can do more over there than you can here. That it was a journey, another world, and she can - very literally - be free. 

I told her my Grandpa is waiting, so were her brothers. 

I feel like she's already played with my cats, been sitting with me when I cried... But I'm second guessing. As usual. 

It doesn't feel like she's gone. It's so weird. It doesn't. I know she is, but my soul... I don't know how to explain it. I feel like she's everywhere. All around. 


It was a dark, gloomy day. As soon as she passed, the sun came out. 

Hi Grandma. 

She's my guardian angel now. That is awesome to know. I feel safe knowing she's there. Absolutely any time, any place.

I love you, Grandma.

I better be seeing you soon, woman. <insert stank eye> 

She would laugh. We had that humorous relationship. I used to tell her all the time when she said, "Oh, Grandma just feels tired." I would say, "Well if you stopped swinging around them poles we'd be fine." She would laugh until she coughed, telling me to stop making her laugh. 


I miss you, Grandma. 

I'll be seeing you. 

...& I already told her I want a full, head to toe appearance. 

Get on it, Gramcracker!

I love you. So, so much. 

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Grandma <3 *Cont'd

I forgot how long exhausting this process is. 

Last night, I crawled into her hospital bed and laid with her for hours. Holding her hand, head on her chest, watching TV. 

I put on some of our favorite tunes, Del Shannon to be exact, and as the song played I just lost it.

This will be the last music she hears. 

It felt too fucking final. No way. My Grandma is not laying here dying. Can't be happening. 

After her not moving a muscle, not an eye blink, nothing (she's at the comatose state now) - as soon as I started crying into her chest, she lifted her knees up - smushing my head against her chest - and she lowered her head to lay on mine. 

Fucking done. I was done. 

I kept crying, and she started trying to lift her hands and move herself and stuff so I had to leave the room while the hospice people got her relaxed again, and cried outside for awhile. 

It's some fucking bullshit, this is.

She is really the only person I would ever cry in front of. 


When my Grandpa died, I was sitting in her bedroom waiting for her to find me. She did. She sat next to me and held my hand, "How are you, sweetie?"

I lost it. Just bawling my eyes out into her shoulder, and she held me. 

Until I heard someone coming, and dashed into the bathroom to hide. 

"Who is up here with you?" My Mom asked her.

I heard her say, "April's just in the bathroom."

She always knew that I don't cry. I never have. Ever. Just with her. 

...who do I cry to about this?


Everybody knows their positions. I'm the rock. The only one above me was her. 

Now, I'm the last woman standing. 

<hands on hips, cape flapping in the wind with an epic score over me>

My Grandpa was there for me, too. All the time. I know he was. I just never wanted to upset him. He was always very obviously upset and angry anytime I was upset. 

When he was dying, and my evil Uncle told me he'd have me arrested if I came to see him - I called my Grandpa to tell him. Not because I was tattling - because he was still able to communicate and we had planned a whole day together. 

My Grandpa, sick - weak - oxygen tank and all - carried the tank up the stairs and out of my Uncle's house. My Uncle's partner told me that he had to chase my Grandpa down in his car, and he was soaking wet from walking thru the sprinklers. 

He's always excused and allowed my Uncle's fucked up behavior, but he told me, "He kept saying, 'I'll kill him. I'll kill him. My baby can come see me whenever she wants'." 

He wouldn't even let my Grandpas best friend come visit him when he was dying. I fought that one, and was told I was an, "Uneducated child who doesn't know better." 


But yeah. 

Grandpa was just the masculine side of it. Obviously, but yeah. 

Grandma wasn't. She was the diaper changing, hugs and snuggles giving, shoulder to cry on. 

This sucks. 

I'm sitting here now. Again. 

I feel like I'm gonna puke. I'm just thankful the hospice floor of this particular hospital on this particular floor is filled with doctors and nurses that I know, personally. So, Grandma is getting excellent care. 

Excellent care. 

One thing I am holding onto - perhaps selfishly. Maybe ignorantly. Is the wish for her to just pass already. To have her soul released. To just have it over. 

Selfishly... Because I just want to talk to her. To see her. To get to hug her and talk to her, like before. 

Because a deep part of my soul knows I'll be able to see her and talk to her, I think, unlike most other spirits. Like Lucy, & maybe better. That's saying something.

One thing I know - anywhere but her room - I feel sick. Outside, at home, at the parentals... Sick. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and what I do eat makes me feel sick. Like I'm going to throw up.

I can't get the ball of sick in my stomach to go away.

But, when I'm in her room... My heart hurts, I am sad, but I'm at peace. 

I'm not sick. I'm not anxious. I just am.

I know that's because of the Angels, and guides that are crowded in there. On the whole floor. 

I saw my Grandpa there. Arms crossed, standing at the foot of her bed, impatient and waiting. 

I feel like there's something going on now - she just doesn't wanna let go. She's waiting for the lesson - or, guidance - to peace. That she doesn't have to work at it all anymore. That she's allowed to be free. 

She has no more responsibility. She's allowed to let go.

That, and maybe a lesson or two for some people who have yet to visit. 

I know this is the first time I've gotten to talk to my family about spirit and the process without being fully mocked, or made fun of.

My sister and I were there the other night, and she started to cry. "I can't do this, April. I can't. I'm not good at this. I don't know how you're so good with this."

I explained that I'm sad, and I had my private moments, but it's a process that doesn't involve us.

I showed her the Lisa Williams videos, which to my surprise she sat and watched silently. Without comments or mockery. To which she asked, "Really? You think that's true?" In a genuine way.

"I know it is."

I passed along a message from the amazing Mindie Adamos, psychic medium, that Angels are all over and she can hear them singing! I told her about seeing Grandpa, and she just looked in awe. 

There was a silence. One I was waiting for with expectation. Insult is coming.

I counted down.






"I haven't been able to sleep in my room." She hesitated, "I have really weird dreams and it's just... Something is going on."

I was surprised.



We talked about it and I think she's astral traveling and doesn't know it. Has no idea what she's doing or even that she can.

"I'll come clean it."

"Clean it?"

"Sage. Reiki. Crazy people stuff."

She laughed. "Okay."

It was a beautiful exchange. 

Lessons. Everywhere.

That wouldn't have happened, not even close, if my Grandma wasn't laying in front of us. Dying. 

She's still bringing people together. 

Anyways... I just want to see her.

I knew the second my Grandpa died. Everyone did.

Me, my Mom & my sister all knew. The exact second, we all sat up wide awake. We just knew.

I'm waiting for her. I won't be truly calmed or at peace until I see her. Head to toe, fully formed, talking to me. 

It's fucked up, but there's no coming back from this. Hospice, ya know? This is the last straw - so to speak. 

I'm really, really excited for when I get to see her again. I don't have to wait till I die - it won't be years - it's not a 'never again'. She won't be here like she was before, but she'll still be here.

Gift, don't fail me now. 

Still trying to get her in dreams, but... Waiting. Just waiting, and praying, and meditating.


Friday, March 20, 2015

Grandma. <3

So, my Grandma is on hospice. 

What's wrong with her?

She stopped eating, and taking her medications. 

So, kind of like a suicide. Kind of.

Nothing medically wrong with her. She just... Stopped eating. 

Anorexia. Geriatric Anorexia, the official title. 

My parents are totally devastated. My Mom can't sleep, can't eat, just cries all the time. 

My Dad is drinking more, and now pouring every ounce of love he can muster into my cats. "I'll never let anything happen to you guys. Ever." Walking around in a haze, clutching my cats, looking out windows.

My siblings are, of course, no where to be found. 

Cousins aren't speaking, and on opposite ends of the country. And they're fucked in their own ways, only speaking to people when something drastic like this happens. 

Aunts and Uncles are either dead, or in different states with no way of getting here. 

So... As usual... It's me. 

My Mom was reading the book from hospice yesterday, and broke down. Couldn't talk, couldn't breathe. 

So, I held her until she stopped crying. 

My Mom said, "I am horrible at this. I didn't think it would hurt this bad. I don't know why, but I didn't." And started crying. Again.

She's seen ghosts. She's extensively talked with her guardian angel in her youth. She even saw her Dad when he passed away join her in a booth at Applebee's - yet, I'm some 'crazy person' when I try to tell her, "You'll see her again."

I don't get why people get that way. I didn't discredit her pain... I don't know. 

I just usually get, "Are you doing witchcraft over there? With your candles and cauldron?" 

"No, I was meditating."

Then she makes funny, "Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhh..." noises. If she's in front of me, does a funny dance. 

Don't get it.

I told her my Grandpa, Grandma's husband is there waiting for her. She gave me a, 'Oh come on' look.


Anyways, it fucking sucks. 

I've seen lots of death. Lots. This is just as hard as it always is. In a different way, but it is.

Death is too final. The life expectancy of humans is too short. There were so many other things I wanted to do with her.

Another problem with death - our expectations and wants for the person. With the person.

Death isn't up for negotiation. When it's happening, or has happened.

It's not like The Sims. We can't plead with the Grim Reaper to spare their life, or drink some youth potion. 

It just is what it is. 

I know she's being prepared... And I hate it. I hate that this is it - that with her goes every single happy memory I have of my childhood. Every single one. 

When I was a baby, just born, my Mom called her to come help her because I wouldn't go to sleep. 

My Mom said, "The car wasn't even in park, and your Grandma jumped out to come and find you. When she got you, you fell right asleep."

Every time I would spend the night with her, she would gasp when she got up to go to the bathroom, "You're still awake?!"


"That's right... You've never gone to sleep. Ever." And she'd laugh.

We would sit outside and smoke, and talk about life and love and everything there was to talk about. 

She's my heart. 

She loved my cats like her own. She always had tons of cats and dogs. She loves animals, and would smile and get as cheery as a baby when I would show her pictures or videos of Luna and Harvey. 

In a couple days... It's my turn to sit with her. I'm taking the bulk of the babysit so my parents don't have to. 

I'm told they expect a week, maybe less, and she'll have made her final transition. 


This sucks. Energetically. 

It feels like I collect everyone's grief, upset, ailments and emotions - on top of my own - and hold them all in the pit of my stomach.

I can act just fine. Dry eyed, level headed, calm and comforting. But inside... it all just sits, and marinates. And I can't really breathe, or sleep, or sit still. 

It's like anxiety. Amplified. 

Plus nerves. And that feeling like you've gatta poop.

On top of an ache in my chest.

None of which can be good. 

I just want it to be over. For her sake. 

Everyone keeps talking about, "Is she hurting? Is she suffering?" Which just makes me more anxious and silently paranoid as I shush everyone else then flip that question over 4,000 times and judge every micro-expression she makes like a motherfucker. 

Like I could do something about it.

Like I should do something about it. 

I've been trying to find her in my dreams. I think last night I did, but I can't remember anything. Just a faint familiarity that is Grandma.

I've gotten other people in comatose states thru my dreams. People I don't even know. Grandma should be easy. 

And tonight is the New Moon. I wanted to do a nice New Moon meditation, but I don't even feel like I have it in me, which sucks. But, I don't. 

How can you be too tired to sit and do nothing? Haha. Beats me, but I am.

And now I'm realizing I have a headache. 

Great time for my 'Healing with the Archangels and Ascended Masters' book to be here! I'll do some of those tonight, I suppose. 

Luna's been following me around. She's an energy detector. Slightest bit of something other than good, she knows. 

I'm gonna go snuggle with my Luna Belle.

Goodnight. XO

Tuesday, March 17, 2015

Dream, Dream, Dream...

I've had some doozies lately. 

Where shall I begin?

I've been meditating and focusing on positivity and everything like I'd been advised - several times. So, they've been pretty clear.

First dream I had was the night I relapsed. I was sitting in a park, at a picnic table, with a dude sitting across from me. 

I think it may have been Jonathan? I don't know. But I had my arm on the table and he was cleaning it off. It was covered in blood, just nasty - didn't phase him at all. Completely calm, peaceful conversation.

I remember being asked, "What happened?" 

That's really it. Some faint trace of blue and white on his top?

Next night, next dream:

I was in some really elegant home. Dining room, dinner party.

I was sitting off in the corner, watching everyone be seated around this huge glass table. Chandelier hanging over it.

In walked a woman, around my age, who is actually a famous singer. Still alive, no I have never met her. No, I wasn't listening to anything of hers or saw her anywhere before I went to bed.

She walked up to me, said, "Hey April!" I said Hello, then watched her hug and greet the people around the table.

Slowly, little by little, one at a time, these red blurbs started to form over a couple people's heads. Their clothing started to turn black. A couple turned to glare at me.

I knew instantly these people with these little red dots were bad, bad people. Why, I don't know, but they certainly aren't people you want in your 'inner circle'. Especially being a celebrity, with as much money as she's got. 

The dots went away, their clothing went back to normal color as said girl waved me over. 

There was a t-shirt laying on the table, and this girl had signed her name on it. They usually do that for me to make sure I know who it is. Always thankful when they make it easy. 

She said, "I made this for you."

I said, "You didn't have to do that."

"But I wanted to." Then she hugged me, tight, and I heard her whisper/echo, 'Get me out of here'.

I pulled back and looked at her - she smiled and carried on like nothing was said. 

There was one woman with a red blurb over her head that I won't forget. Ever.

My dream seemed to 'cut to' a gym of some kind she had in her house. I was trying to string up crystals like you string up popcorn on a Christmas tree, but it wasn't working.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to help you."

"It's not gonna work." She shrugged, "I'm stuck." She gestured around, "This isn't what I thought it would be."

"Don't say that. I don't know if you can hear me for real or what, but don't give up. Fight for yourself, <name>. Don't give anyone your power."

There was a contract that fell to the floor, out of nowhere. "Too late."

Then I woke up from that one.

Next night (last night):

I got to hang out with my Grandpa!! 

I was driving down the street of my old house and I saw my Grandpa standing in my driveway, waving me over.

I parked, jumped out, and ran over to him. Of course, screaming and hugs and kisses.

"Hey baby!"

"Grandpa! What are you doing? How did we get here?"

"Easiest place I could get to. Come on, look what Grandpa made..."

We started walking to the garage.

"How are you?" 

"I'm fine, I'm fine. It's great here! I do what I want, when I want. Look. Turn around."

When I turned around there was some weird looking blue car. I don't know what the hell was going on, but there were some buttons he was pushing and it, like, inflated? I don't know. It kind of looked like a fancy blue crayon. 

It was weird.

"What the hell?"

"Isn't it fancy?!"

I didn't know what to say, and I think one of the tires was about to pop. The front passenger side tire was about to pop.

He walked over to me, hugged me and put his hand over my throat. "Rest up, Angel."

"I wanna kick this on my own. Is it Bronchitis?"

"Probably. Rest."

"Why don't you just magically heal me?"

He laughed, "I'm trying. Give Grandpa some time."

We stood silent for a moment or two. My Grandma is really sick, they're talking about calling hospice for her.

"Is Grandma okay?"

He looked away. 


"She's sick, angel. She's been sick for a long time. Everyone has their time."

"I don't wanna lose more people, Grandpa."

"What do you mean 'lose people'?" He gestured around, laughing. "We're right here! Might take her a bit, but we didn't go anywhere! Look at us!"

I didn't say anything.

"Hey, cheer up. Cheer up. You know how it goes. It's beautiful here, April. Absolutely beautiful. Don't be scared, or upset. We'll all be waiting for her. Okay?"


"Smile for Grandpa."

I did, he laughed. He hugged me, kissed me, told me he loved me, then was gone. 

I stood, alone, in the driveway for a moment or two more before I woke up to my Mom calling me to tell me my Grandma was moving hospitals. 


It is what it is. 

My dreams are the shit. Confusing, but... Fucking awesome. 

Wednesday, March 11, 2015


It is so fucking hard to relax. To do nothing.

I don't get it.

I honestly don't get it.

How is this beneficial?

I don't understand. Not one bit. 

I get it in terms of energy, yes. Basic, to a certain extent. But, I mean, holding a desire then letting it go and doing nothing brings it? And holding intentions but releasing emotion?

Fucking complicated. Aargh!

I've been told over and over and over again to let it go.

How? How?

I thought I had it... I didn't.

I'm having the hardest time letting go of my career, to an extent. In my soul, I'm still panicked and stressed.

I mean - I just let it go, don't send or email or call and this and that and look and la la la... Then what happens?! 

Then I'm as good as those potheads that sit in their Moms basement their whole lives, right?

Panicky. Panicking. 

Yes, I get the energy and flow and it needs space... But I can't release the feeling that I have to literally not care, to a certain extent.

To trust, completely, that it'll just 'be worked out' by the Angels and the world.

I call bullshit - I need to work! I know the world is listening to signs and shit, too, so.... 

I'm going crazy.

I can't even sit minute to minute and not think about it. About what I'm gonna do related to my work.

Thought I had it. Guess I didn't.

I'm only human. Every day is a lesson. Another way to work myself around it.

I don't know how people live in the one moment. I don't. I can honestly say I think I'd need drugs to slow myself down that much. 

I relapsed again today, too. Self injury, not drugs or alcohol. Oh well. Did better than last time! Made it a year and two months or so since my last relapse. Relax, I wasn't crying or upset... The anxiety just had nowhere to go. 

Horrible statement for self injury awareness but... It fucking worked. Did what I needed it to, and didn't have to risk anything other than a scar. 

I think my thing is... I don't want the life I have now. I want better, more... So on, so forth. I want my dreams and the dreams of others. 

I just know too much, too. My own mind is driving my crazy.

I was watching 'An Idiot Abroad' by the fantastic Ricky Gervais, and in one episode he asks Carl, "How about I give you a million dollars, and see if you can make two million in a year...?"

I almost died. The fact that nothing sprang to mind automatically. I could take a million, make three fucking films and do marketing for all of them, and guarantee 2M per movie back. 

His 1M investment would make him back 6M. 

<rips hair out>

I need to stop my brain. 

Everything I fucking see or think or do is a marketing idea or concept or new script idea or potential crew member or way to invest or way to get more % back in returns of new advertising techniques and blah blah blah.

I'm driving myself nuts.

This is my brain on business.... And I can't shut it off.

Because it's my heart, my soul. I love it.

& I want it so bad.

I've been burned and fucked over and blah blah... I don't understand what reason this is all for.

I don't get where this is leading me. Not one bit. 

I don't understand why this happens to me. I don't get it. 

I'm fucking lost.

I can't do any more... I've reached out in as many directions as I can, and I have nothing else to do but surrender.

But I can't. I've been trying, and I just... I can't. 

Fucking working on it.

Uggghhhhhh fuck my life. 

I don't get it. 

I just don't get it.

I feel like I'm appreciating and seeing my blessings and all that, but... I don't get it.

So, doing absolutely nothing is supposed to work for me?

I get it... Energy wise, I do. Energetically and all that. It's just... What the fuck, man. How do I shut this off?!

Only bonus to this is I'm pretty sure I got bronchitis and I got NyQuil. It's been a small battle knowing it has been in my cupboard all day... But, I haven't touched it!! 

Am now, tho. Kill this fucking anxiety, and sore throat/horrible cough. 

See? Body is in dis-ease. Last night this anxiety started... Today? Fucking bronchitis. Surprise for me.

On the other side of that... Only had two cigarettes today. Bonus for me! 


Okay... Say a prayer, or whatever you do/believe in, for me.


(Then DMX came along, and picked my ass right back up. Some real shit.

They don't know. How much I've already been thru, what I've already overcame, all of it. If this is the only thing I have to overcome now, I'm blessed. I'm lucky to have made it. I'm one of the lucky ones. 



Monday, March 9, 2015


This hits my soul more profoundly than anything else in this world. Always has. Since I saw it on OWN, and every time after.

I deeply, on the deepest soul level, understand this. 

Thank you, Oprah, for sharing this. 

Thank you. So much. 

Everyone should watch this. 

Surrendering, with Oprah. 

A Master Class.

"I surrender all."


Friday, March 6, 2015

It's all good in the hood.

So tonight was the first night in years I've had a real fight with my Dad.

Before I even get into it - I already forgive him. It's emotionless at this point. Once the feeling, the emotion of 'Dad' is removed, the emotion of 'parent' is gone - it's like fighting a stranger when you've been wronged. 

Emotions are gone, so there's no sadness or upset. It just is what it was. 

Also, tho, I would like to add that there is never any acceptable reason (almost) to just go hitting someone. But - there is also never an acceptable reason to hit your kids like he did, and always has. Ever. 

If you're a kid, or someone reading this that is/was abused - know it was never, EVER your fault. 

I'm comforted by that knowledge, in my soul. I hope you can be, too.


I was showering at the parentals. Super long story short, he has some attachment to mundane things like the water heater. They have it set on 'B'. The options are, 'A, B, C...' And a couple other ones. 

I'm in the shower - it turns to ice. 

I get out and my Mom says, "Did you run out of water?"


She takes off, toward the heater. 

It's back on 'A'.

So she finds him, "Why do you keep doing that?"

"I didn't do anything."

"Why do you lie? A ghost turned it down?"

It didn't. 

My mom says, "It's going back on 'B'."

He gets up, turns it back to A.

She goes, turns it back to B.

He flips out.



I come over, hearing this, and a couple crashes and bangs. 

I say, in my towel, "Uh... My water turned to ice."

Now, keep in mind, I'm pissed. I'm trying really hard to keep myself under control. I can't tell you how often this has happened to everyone in that house. Plus, it's really maddening he knows that and keeps changing it anyways.

He never owns his actions. He just screams and yells profanities and insults over questions. That, is also infuriating. Can't ever have a legit conversation about something difficult - just screams and yells. 

So he put his fist in my Mom's face, with his murderer eyes, like he's threatening her and trying not to hit her as he moves past us and throws something, breaks it and it shatters everywhere.

Now, I'm furious. 

It's just upsetting how something so small is made to be the biggest deal on earth. And, how he does that to my Mom, and just him being a douchebag.

So, I start screaming. 

I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help it.

"So is it gonna be good for me to shower?"





He stepped to me, and put his hand in my face. "GET OUT!"



Yes, it was that trivial. Also, another reason I was so mad.

So, I say, "What is your soul connection with 'A'? I don't get it! Why?! It's not heating the water! YOU ARENT MAKING SENSE!"





He's screaming at her, same shit.

So, I say, "Mom, just stop. Don't waste energy. This is just a reflection of how he feels about himself. He wants to continue to ruin his life over simple shit like this, let him."

Then he said something really ignorant that I don't remember, but I went off. Again.


Then he told me something really horrible that I won't repeat, and so I said, "YOU HAVE NO LIFE, YOU HAVE NO FUCKING REASON. YOURE A USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!"

He got up, and came at me.


He grabbed me - and I totally, completely, fucking snapped.

I vowed to myself that if he ever put his hands on me again, I would make him live to A) Regret it, and B) Remember never to do it again. 

He grabbed me by my arms, shaking me violently, shoving me toward the door. 

I screamed, "GET THE FUCK OFF OF ME!" And punched him as hard as I could right in the face. 

He twisted himself, and elbowed me in the face. 

I jumped at him, punched him again, and started going ape shit on his ass.

Here comes my Mom, screaming, "STOP IT! STOP IT!"

I was clawing, punching, everything. I went for his face with my nails and he turned around, my fingers got in his mouth and he bit down. Hard. Twice. 

He kept hitting me and shoving me and then my Mom pulled me off of him, and I lost it again.




I was bleeding, and naked - my towel had gone MIA during this altercation. First fight naked... Wonderful. 

I didn't get a look at him, I turned around and left. 

I heard my Dad screaming about how he was bleeding and no one gave a shit about him, and my Mom was screaming back about 'this is what happens when a child is raised in a violent environment', and so on.

So, I'm okay. I'm actually really good and I feel kind of bad. 

There's no reason for anyone to hit anyone, but... I said some mean shit. But it's true. I've tried to say that shit to him before, about why does he start huge fights about something so small? I've tried to explain my anger comes from lack of knowledge - I can't ever get a question answered, it's just threats and screaming.

Also, I know he's troubled. Obviously. He hates himself and his life. I am the one who knows better. Who has taught myself to maneuver this... And I caved.

Then again, I'm not allowed to emote? That is wrong. I should be allowed to ask questions and questions to try and get a basic answer. 

I'm allowed to be upset, angry and frustrated sometimes, too, right? Yeah, well, welcome to where my cutting came from in my youth. Never being allowed to emote. 

Also, I don't care how much I say I hate her sometimes - or I can't stand her... My Mom is my Mom. That's my fucking Mom. You know? I love my Mom, as much as I hate her sometimes. Don't step to my Mom. Period. I will defend her, especially because I know her nerves can't handle that shit. Mine can.

I know I probably wouldn't have walked away as seemingly okay as I did if I had clothes on. Had I not been naked, I'm sure he wouldn't have quit. 

But I know that as soon as I punched him in the face, he was fucking shocked. Never, ever, in all the years I was abused, did I ever - EVER - do something that forceful and bold right away, in the beginning of the fight. Ever. 

So what does my Mom say to me later? "I could have handled that myself, you know." 

*sigh* Typical. 

Yeah, but no - you couldn't have - and you're my Mom, so you're never going to. 

But - I felt bad. Because I know I'm the adult and he's the child. They both are children. I'm the one who has grown past that, I have evolved and am on my spiritual path. They're not. He surely isn't. 

I should have walked away, and I didn't. 

I'm not mad at myself. I stood up for myself, and I'm not mad at that. He better think twice before ever putting a hand on me again. 

But - my soul told me to at least accept responsibility for my actions. Not for him, for me. 

I tried to get myself to go and apologize to him in person, but I couldn't. Just not there yet. 

When I left, I sent him this text:

At least I feel better. 

That's always been a huge deal with these people. I have a hard time saying "I'm sorry" because I have never, ever heard it growing up. Never.

So, I'm trying to take the steps to figure out how to make saying that easier for myself.

Step one. Woo!

Haven't heard anything back, but, that's not the point.

I asked my Mom later, "Is he okay? I think I got him really bad."

"Yeah. You did."

"Well... I don't know. I've never let myself go before, so... Don't touch me. Never again, Mom. Never ever again."

"I was holding you both back, and it's not like he wasn't trying to get to you, too."

"Oh, really? It didn't seem like it."

"No. He was coming at you, too."


As it stands, it's even. We're good. 

He's gatta be bruised and scratched up. I just tried eating and can't. That elbow to the jaw was no joke. 

I got a sore jaw and cut open fingers. Oh well.

Life goes on.

I'm very calm and peaceful about it. 

I, finally, fought as hard for myself as I've always promised I would if he ever touched me again. I accepted responsibility, apologized for my part, and move on.

Compared to fights when I was young, this was fucking nothing. 

As bad as I feel about not walking away, not for him but for me, I'm human. I rarely emote, and to be fair - I've held my tongue on lots of additional shit for quite some time. 

Like I'd said... I told myself that if he ever, ever touched me again... I'd do everything in my power to relay that he should be sorry, and make sure he won't ever fucking do it again.

So far, I think my mission was accomplished. 

Life keeps on keepin' on. For once, in my soul, I came out ahead. First time. 


Wednesday, March 4, 2015

I am here to change the world.




All good numbers that have been repeating for me. 

I had a little 'breakdown' the other night that was successfully reset by Lucy and my wonderful medium Wendy.

Every time I'm crying, Lucy pops in with a, "Oh come on, stop that. What are you crying for? Knock it off."

A very loving but truthful guide, she is.

What sucks is as 'sensitive' as someone is - it's next to impossible to read themselves. Or, it's really difficult to differentiate things. So, what I learned today:

- Ask for help, & keep asking. "If it's someone you want to learn from, keep asking! Don't be so independent all the time. Some people need that brick from the universe. Be the brick! Don't stop at one time. Keep it up!"

- Give it all to the world. "Amazing things are happening for you. Really amazing things. You have to be at peace in order for it to all connect. You're not like other people, see. Most people need a kick in the ass to do work. You need a kick in the ass to slow down, to sleep, to relax. Trust that the world is doing its part, because it is."

- I am not procrastinating. "You work so much harder than most people that you think a nap is some huge waste of time. You have to relax. Your energy has to come down so things can meet your life. You're doing yourself a huge benefit by finding the peace inside yourself now, and figuring out how to maintain it, that way later on when things get crazy you'll always be centered."

- It's a continuous battle. "Your sign that you need to find that trusting and relaxed spot is every single time that, 'I need to be doing something' or, 'Oh god I'm not working' comes up. The world knows you're a hard worker, now clear your lane so opportunities and people can come to you."

- The world is backwards. "The industry is about credits and 'proof'. They don't understand intuition or chances. You are doing more than that person with back to back roles, and because of what you know and can do - you'll soar over everyone. Your 1 job will be more beneficial than their 40. You know that. Now relax. You don't look at other peoples credits and paper achievements - you look into their soul. So do the same for yourself. The right people will see that, too. Because really, that's what it's all about. Life, work, all of it."

- It's all real. "Every sign, every message, every voice, every vision you get is real. It's not fake, you're not crazy, you're not making it up. Stop second guessing yourself!"

Overall, I'm doing good. As I always am. Thank god. Or, well, that's my report. 

She said, "April, I'm not worried about you. Most people have such heavy shit going on - you don't. You've really figured it out, you just need that extra reassurance most of the time. You don't need to be worried about how you'll get this or do that - it's on it's way. I'm not worried about you. You've got it all handled. Just, relax."

Happy dance, commence!

That's what's so hard for me. To relax. I work like a psycho, and it's so hard for me to slow down. I can't even tell you how many days I stayed up, in a row, researching one topic. 

I now set alarms for myself and force myself to stop doing some kind of work, and go to sleep. 

But, more often than not, I find myself saying, "But I'm on a roll!" Or, "One more article!" Or, "Just a couple more pages of notes."

Then I look at my clock, and it's 8am.


I understand why I need to relax. I'm just so scared I'll miss something, or relax too much. 

I think my own knowledge eats me alive. I already know how to do so much, I can't handle sitting with it and not applying it. 

But, my experience thus far has been that I work so much harder than everyone else and they're not ready for it. The, "I've got you a distribution deal, and a team of marketing execs ready to run!" Then, they run. For their lives. 

It ain't a hobby to me! I wanna make dreams come true.

Just been a lot of people who say they want it, or are comfortable where they are. Seems like lots of people are afraid of success. Not all, but some. 

It's hard to point to a resume of credits that are explained with, "Well, I had it for them, but they backed out." Or, "Well, this was my marketing plan, but... They didn't wanna do it." 

Or, "I know I'm perfect for this role, but... I can't show you my soul."

...that last one is a solid example of everything, really. 

Aaaaaand most people either can't, don't want to, or don't take time to see someone's soul.

It's cool. Can't blame them. They'll get there, eventually. 

It's a part of what makes me who I am. And, in the end of the day, regardless how frustrated I am about whatever... I like who I am. 

I'm one cool cat. 

I can pretty much see and chat with dead people, my dreams are just tons of awesome shit, Lucille Ball is like my best friend, I can hand out hugs before you even say you need one, I'd take a bullet for almost anybody, I fight for people who have no one, I can make bomb ass movies, do something out of nothing, and basically turn $5,000 or less into over a million in profit (independently, not in a box office). 

I'm fucking awesome! 

I know I'd wanna be friends with me, & that's saying something. Gatta be your own best friend first. 

At the end of the day, that's what I have to remember. 

It's not about credits, opportunities, chances given or taken. It's not about money, fame, names or job titles. All that really matters, above and beyond all of it, is what's in ones soul. 

The very core of that person. 

I'm confident that one day, the world will catch onto that. 

In the mean time, I sit in peace and release it all to the world. As I have been instructed to do. Multiple times. 

Got it! Again! 


Tuesday, March 3, 2015


I, personally, don't believe acting is that hard.

I just don't.

Yes, there's some truth to 'you either have it or you don't', but overall... I think it's life experience meeting relaxation and comfort.

The ability to relate or trick yourself into relating. And being totally relaxed and comfortable about it.

What makes it hard is the emotions behind 'why'. Why? It's a dream that you're so passionate and anxious about, you wanna vomit at any chance really given.

That - that effects everything.

I just had a great talk with my intern Torri the other night about it. About how it's so hard in general because the dream and passion isn't looked at. The paper and the credits are. 

In any other job, yes, your resume is taken into consideration to some extent. Film? That's all there is. Unless you suck dicks, then the rings to that ladder get significantly minimal. 

It sucks that I'm at the place I am in my consciousness, which equals peace and relaxation to some extent. At the same time, same consciousness keeps me from doing certain projects. Hence, the marketing and stuff to work between work.

I haven't ever done a film, played a role I can look at and be really proud of. Closest was 'Kill Me Again'. I felt really at peace and really relaxed there. 

Nothing else. 

I still haven't gotten a chance to do what I know I'm capable of. But, I also haven't had anyone take that chance on me either. 

It's a catch 22. Everyone talks about (and has for the last 5ish years) 'paperless auditions' and 'green castings'. Just Skyping your audition or meeting with the people. Emailing and not using actual mail. Recording and sending your shit in. But, of course... That seems to also only apply to those who already are someone. 

I used to email so many fucking casting departments that IMDb notified me thinking my account was hacked by several people. They almost shut it down. One night, I got over 500 email addresses and emailed them all. I wasn't playing. Regardless what's on a paper, I busted my ass. 

Workshops, auditions, sending hundreds and hundreds of headshots out in all directions, meet-ups, student film stuff. So on and so forth. 

As anyone here already knows, just like in that documentary on Netflix 'That guy from that one thing' (I think that's what it was called), that one guy said, "My girlfriend was an actress, but she got really sick of the 'Baywatch' shit and said, 'Fuck this'."

I just moved away from CA insanity, back home to normal people and normal shit in MI. 

You don't have your sanity, you don't have nothing.

I still send out. Every couple weeks I get on and submit, re-submit via email. Sometimes print out an address label or two and shoot a headshot. 

*sigh* Nothing. Yet.

Still working on my company. Just holding hope and positive thought right now. Had a hard day today with it, I don't know why. Random as fuck, but I did. 

I know everything happens for a reason. I just am having a super hard time with that right now. 

When I left California, it wasn't running. It was following strong intuition. On top of everything else, all the constant negative situations... It was a strong shove. I knew that as soon as I made the decision, and I finally felt at peace for the first time in so long, I had answered a message. 

Still - it's killing me.

The best part about this, is my strong desire to help others. People who can't get a fucking break. 

I get it. 

But, in order for me to help people with a dream - I need to be someone. Get what I know needs to happen done, or else no one cares about you. Be at that 'level'. 

No one will care about them unless they care about me, & what I can do. 

Film isn't 1 person. It isn't. 

Yes, I can make a film by myself. It would be stupid and useless with marketing and so forth but... It's not a 1 person thing.

It's a team thing. More than one person. A group of people. 

That's someone believing in a dream, seeing the business behind it, so forth and building a group. 

It takes someone believing in someone. That's what I'm waiting for. 

& I don't get it. I'm being positive, I really am. I vent and am human, but I'm really feeling good (or have been) - I don't get it. I am getting super, super restless. 

I wish I was simple. Happy with a relationship and that's it. I'm not, not at all. 

I need to re-center myself, I guess. I don't know. 

Why do I get these random, debilitating bouts of hopelessness? 

Humanity. Fuck.

There's just some things I won't do. I won't sell my soul... But, it's feeling like I am. 

And let me tell you - some girls I watched do some shady, horrible shit are making marvelous careers for themselves right now. 


I just... I don't get it. Don't get it. 

Do. Not. Get it. 

If I knew what I know now when Jared and Kyle were alive... 

Well, that's a useless road to keep taking myself down. 

Something great is going to happen for me. 

Something great is going to happen for me. 

Something great is going to happen for me. 

...something great is going to happen for me.