D.R.E.A.M

Dream

 

"Hold fast to dreams

for if dreams die,

life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly."

-Langston Hughes

 

 

 



 

Most of begin dreaming when we are just children. We begin to dream about being doctors, firefighters, and astronauts. As children we often aspire to be what are heroes are and there is something beautiful about that sentiment. Children see the black and white version of life, things are either good or bad there isn't much gray area in a child's decisions. Children look up at their heroes and they see something in them that drives themselves to dream. My hero when I was growing up was my grandfather and he was an artist. I'm not sure if that was his dream but it was certainly his passion and watching him paint was wonderful. To see a man so completely taken by a task that it distracted him from all of life's worries - I wanted that.

 

Once we start to grow up and life gets a little more gray we start to consider who we are and who we plan to be. Most of us decide what our dream is in High School. Some of us will shout it from rooftops, some of us will only tell our closest friends, and some of us are even too scared to utter it out loud. I used to be one of those people who was afraid to say it aloud because saying it would make it real and that meant it could be taken away. Then I met someone who changed my mind, they were the first person I'd ever really shared my writing with and they told me I was good enough to chase that dream. Having someone else believe in me gave me the opportunity to finally believe in myself and for that I'll be forever grateful.

 

I told my grandmother soon after that and she was surprisingly supportive. I thought she would be disappointed but she was overjoyed and that made it seem even more possible. I was so excited I told all my friends and teachers and again they believed in me. It was the best feeling in the world - everyone believed in me as a writer. Then the unthinkable happened that person who first believed in me broke my heart. I was crushed and soon I quit writing. I quit writing because I no longer believed in myself. I no longer believed in love. I didn't believe in the silliness of chasing your dream.

 

"Not until we are lost do we begin to find ourselves"- Thoreau

 

That was the dumbest thing ever! I gave up on my dreams because one person decided to give up on me? It took me a long time to realize just how stupid I was being but once I did I realized something...It took having my heart broken and giving up on everything I loved to realize that I have to believe in me. It would never matter what my grandmother thought, what my friends thought, what critics thought...all that mattered was if I believed in my dream. Once I came to that realization my world view changed.

 

Too often we put our hopes in dreams in others arms. We tell our loved ones to support us and protect us and to believe in us. We give them are most precious desire in life and tell them to take care of it like its their own. That is completely unfair not only to them but ourselves. We have to take back our dreams and fight for them ourselves. We have to stop being afraid to chase after our passion. "Thinking will not overcome fear but action will." We have to take action! Follow your dream and do it because you believe in yourself. Do not give up your dream because someone told you that you weren't good enough. It will only make you a shell of you wanted to become.

 

Follow your dream - whether it be playing basketball, becoming a doctor, publishing a novel, or having a beautiful family. Always be pushing yourself to make your dreams come true. You may not end up in the NBA or on the bestseller list but that doesn't mean you can't do what you love. It will take a lot of hard work and determination. There will be times where you believe you've failed. But I promise you this as long as you are working toward your dream then you are not failing. You are living.

 

"No one said it would be easy - they just promised it'd be worth it."

 

Much Love,

 

Maggie V.

Sneak Peek - Skye Dive

Behind The Pages

Skye Dive

 

I started writing Skye Dive nearly 6 years ago when I was sixteen. I wanted to write a story that could delve into the supernatural elements of the world and at the same time explore the psychology of a characters mind that is tested in the worst ways. I created Skyler a strong character who would have her limits pushed to see just how strong she really was.

…

Skyler – better known as Skye is the main character of “Skye Dive” and the first character I created. When I first created Skye I based a lot of her story line off that of my own however she soon became her own person in a way. Skyler is a strong person because she has no other choice but to be strong. Her life has been for the majority chaotic and the only way to deal with the chaos was to be tough. However there is a childlike fear in Skye that only two people recognize her sister Abigail and well you’ll have to buy the book to find out the second person. This fear stems from the fact that she really has no idea what she is doing yet pretends to have all the answers.

While writing this book I wanted to break apart Skye’s psyche I wanted to push her limits. She endures a lot throughout the novel and her reactions to life’s curveballs aren’t always the same. Sometimes being tough isn’t enough and she has to learn to open herself up and be vulnerable. She is someone that I think a lot of us can relate to. We all try to be tough on our exteriors and not show what are true feelings are but sometimes showing our feelings is the best way to get through our situation.

Her relationship with her sister Abigail is vital to her storyline. Abigail and Skye are opposites in many ways which helps them to balance each other’s personalities. The toughness of Skye has to be broken down by the softness of Abigail and their bond is only deepened by their tragedies. As they both try to figure out how best to deal with the situations they are in they learn more about each other and themselves than they ever thought possible.

The character of Skyler meant a lot to me as a writer. She was the first character I put myself into and the first character that became something more than an idea. Her journey is an incredible adventure and I really hope that you guys fall in love with her character as much as I did! Skye Dive will be coming out later this year and I hope you will all pick up a copy until then read the first chapter on this blog - Skye Dive  A Preview.

Much love!

 

-Maggie V.

Writing - Photo Series # 2

PHOTO SERIES # 2

 

 

A few weeks ago I did a photo series where I picked 3 photos and wrote something based on what those particular photos inspired in me. This week I asked my followers on tumblr, facebook, and instagram to pick photos of their choice. Only two were submitted.

 

 

With the first photo I decided to tell a short story, really a summary of an individual. I felt the photo itself elicited the beauty of a life changing moment.

 

 

 

It was then that he understood what it meant to be free. There under the morning sunlight at the edge of those mountains. He could have stepped off the edge into the rocky valley below; he could have ended it all. But he was free and being free meant having the right to live. He looked out across the mountains and saw nothing but beauty. Everything that had brought him here; the divorce, the accident, the pain it had given him a chance. A chance to see that freedom is a choice. We are free to love, free to chase dreams, free to be happy. We are free to live. And in that moment he chose life.

 

 

Photo # 2

For this photo I chose to write a poem.

 

"Run"

Run with me

O Darling

Run with me

 

Run through the unpicked flowers

Through the graceful trees

We’ll listen to Earth’s music

As it flows through the breeze

 

Run with me my love

And together we’ll be free

Run with me my love

Until we’ve no breath left to breathe

 

Run with me

O Darling

Run with me.

 

 

 

I hope that you enjoyed this photo series - if you would like to keep up with all of my writing please visit my website www.margaretverece.com

Also like me on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/margaretverece

 

Much Love,

 

Maggie V.

Preview of Dreamwalker - Short Story

Dreamwalker: A Short Story

Margaret Verece

 

I was having another falling dream. I was trying to jolt myself awake but I just kept falling, I was headed straight for the ocean. *BANG BANG BANG* I let out a squeal as I awoke to a police officer banging on my window.

“Sir, roll down your window.” The officer’s gruff voice echoed through my car window. I rolled down my window hoping the smell of whiskey wasn’t too strong on my breath.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry I had a long day at work and must have just fallen asleep in my car. I’ll be on my way, my apologies.” I said politely hoping to get out of here as fast as possible. The officer’s eyes traced over my Hyundai Elantra as he scanned for anything suspicious. He must have found something.

“Sir I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle with your hands up.  Hands up and slowly get out of the car. NOW!”  His voice boomed through my head and I wondered how much I’d had to drink to have a hangover this bad. I did as I was told and slowly got out of the car. I thought I was being polite enough and doing the right things however when my body slammed against the cement and I was read my rights I knew something was terribly wrong.

“I don’t understand officer; you’re arresting me for being drunk and asleep in my car?” I said trying not to sound sarcastic.

“No you prick I’m arresting you for murder.” He said as he picked me up off the ground and walked me to his patrol vehicle.

Murder I thought. Murder? They have the wrong man, I’m an alcoholic sure an asshole even but murder? I hated the sight of blood and the thought of getting my hands sticky, I could never murder someone. I tried to formulate words but nothing came out and I realized I was in shock. For Christ Sake I was being arrested for murder!

DRUG ADDICTION- THE TRUTH

Drug Addiction - The Truth

 

 

I'm about to get very open and honest about drug addiction. Some of what I say may offend some people, but I hope by the end of this you'll be educated. Drug addiction is a disease HOWEVER it is a disease that is chosen. Drug addicts choose this sickness every time they pick up a pill or a needle.

 

My mother is a drug addict - so is my father. There are three things you need to know about drug addicts, 1. they are selfish 2. what they are doing is a choice and 3. the more drugs they do the more they become someone unrecognizable. My mom has done drugs since I can remember. She started off with pills - mostly Oxys and then she progressed to hard drugs - her favorite being Meth. The first thing you need to know is that despite my mothers hardships of having a violently abusive husband she still chose a path of destruction by taking drugs. I love my mother, and I always will love my mother but I do not make excuses for her.

 

 

My mother had every reason to want to escape her life. Her husband beat her until she had broken ribs, he beat her down physically and emotionally. However she also had every reason not to do drugs. Two beautiful children who loved her and needed her, two loving parents willing to do anything to get her out of her situation and multiple other family members who would have given anything to help her. She had every opportunity in the world to choose differently yet she still chose drugs. She chose to pop pills which turned her into a zombie who didn't feed her children. She chose to take too much Oxy which made her angry and so she beat her children. She chose to destroy who she was and what life she had because she'd rather get high. That is both selfish and pathetic.

 

As a child I watched my mother sleep with random men for money, I watched her stick needles in her arm, pop pills like tic tacs, and pass out in her own filth. Eventually she got so bad that she didn't feed us, she didn't care for us, and she didn't want us. We became resources that she could use instead of children that she gave birth to. My mom eventually became something other than my mom. For a while my whole family fought the addiction like a war. We would throw her in rehab, we would tell her how it made us feel, we would take the drugs away - nothing we did mattered. We gave her every chance and yet she got worse. So many times we blamed ourselves - maybe if we had done something sooner about Jaime her abusive husband...Maybe we could have put her in a better rehab facility...maybe maybe maybe. But the truth of the matter is nothing we could of done would have mattered because my mom didn't want to change. She wanted to take drugs - she didn't need them, they just helped her cope and instead of facing her problems she drowned them with needles and bottles.

 

"Drugs take you to hell, disguised as heaven"

 

Here is why I say drug addicts are not helpless. If you can choose to pick up a needle and stick it in your arm you can choose not to pick that needle up. It won't be as easy but it can still be accomplished. There are plenty of addicts who decide one day to not pick up the needle - and they will tell you that it was the hardest decision of their life. They will tell you that everyday they think about how easy it would be to go back to using, and yet the choose not to. Life is hard. Life throws things at us that we can't understand - it fucks with our heads and hearts. Trust me I know - because like my mom I was beaten by my father, I was sexually abused by the one person who was meant to protect me. Growing up with my parents, dealing with the shit that way my life it would have been so easy to start taking pills or drinking away my issues. And I won't sit here and say that I didn't try because I definitely did. The difference is that I realized that doing drugs wasn't going to help me, in fact all it would do is hurt those around me that I loved. I would become just like my mother and father people I despised. I chose to live through the hell and appreciate the good times. People do it everyday and those people are the ones who are really having a hard time.

 

The sober people who deal with their tragedies with an open mind, the tortured souls who don't find solace in the bottom of a bottle. Drug addicts - they have it easy because they aren't dealing with life. The flip side is they don't get to appreciate the beautiful moments either. The birth of a child, falling in love, watching their child graduate. They can't appreciate those moments because they haven't ever dealt with the hardships.

 

 

 

Those of us who have someone in our life with an addiction problem need to understand that there is nothing we can do to help our loved ones unless they want help. You cannot fight their war, you cannot change them, and you damn sure can't control them. They are selfish and will use you until there is nothing left. My family did everything we could for my mom and for a long time I thought "she's my mom I can't just give up on her." Until one day I realized my mom did not see me as her child. My mother once told me she never wanted me, she never asked for us and I realized she was no longer my mother. She would never tell me she loved me and truly mean it, she would never be there for me, and she didn't care. All she cared about was how to get her next high. It was all about her escaping life. I decided at that moment that I wanted to live. I wanted to live through the shit and the great times. I wanted to experience every tragedy fully because then I could prove that you can. I could prove that we don't need drugs to escape the hardships - I could prove that its better to feel all of the pain in the world than to run away from everything you loved.

 

So to those of you who are dealing with someone with an addiction issues I'll say this - remember that they choose this path, remember that to them drugs are the only thing that matters. Every sob story they give you is an excuse to try and not be judged. And you can try and help them, and I encourage you to do so but only to the point where you aren't giving up your life. Don't sacrifice your well being for theirs because they won't care. If you've done your best and they still choose drugs then its time to walk away. Its time to let go of them because they've already let go of you.

 

 

-Much love

 

Maggie V

 

 





My First Love - My Dad

 

My First Love - My Dad

 

 

One of my best friends is about to lose her father to cancer and I wish there was something I could say to her that would help take away the immense pain she's about to experience. The truth is there is nothing that can take that horrible feeling away of losing your first love.

 

 

As a little girl my grandfather was my favorite person to be around. He and my grandmother had adopted me raising me as their daughter. I can say with certainty now that I've grown up that they were the best parents. When I was growing up I was a daddy's girl or I guess a grand daddy's girl. I followed my grandfather around everywhere and was determined to do anything to make him proud. He taught me how to play chess, and told me to follow my dreams no matter the cost. He was always there when I needed someone to talk to and gave me some of the greatest advice. He was my first love. He was the best man I've ever known and probably will ever know. He was my dad.

 

That word dad - means so much more to me now that he has passed away. There were times where I thought I hated him because he told me I couldn't date a particular boy or couldn't wear a short skirt. There where times he disappointed me, because he smoked when he was told not to by doctors. Then there was a moment where I hated him and loved him all at once. It was in a small room, with a single bed where he lay dying. There my dad was dying! I was fourteen, he was only in his fifties and he was leaving me alone in this world. All those promises he had made, to be at my graduation, to walk me down the aisle he was breaking them all. My dad never broke promises. I hated him for dying and yet I was overwhelmed by love because even in the moments before his death my dad was loving. He smiled at me as I whispered hatreds and complaints, he held me, he comforted me. Here my father was dying and he was still being a dad.

 

 

It's been 8 years since he passed away and it still hurts as much today as it did then when I think about it. I don't think it will ever not hurt but I'm okay with that because hurting reminds me that I had a dad worth hurting over. So I may not have my dad by my side to walk me down the aisle and neither will my friend but at least we had dads who were heroes. Dad's who loved us with all of their heart. So to all of you who still have your dad around I encourage you to love him as much as you can now. One day he won't be here and you'll always wish you had just one more moment.

 

 

To all the great dads in the world thank you! Thank you for being our heroes and our first loves!

 

 

 

I will always love you dad!

 

-Maggie V.