My first short film:)

Hey, so here is my first short film. Yeah, it finally happened, I even had a viewing party. The people in it and who helped with production are amazing and I will be forever grateful for their help in helping make my vision come  to life. This was such a cool process and I loved every second of it. This is what I want to do. This is where I see myself. I want to be a screenwriter. I want to be in the business of movies and film and I want to write. I want to write my freaking heart out and share some great stories. This is only my first and I know I have room for improvement and I know as I keep going it will only continue to get stronger and stronger. Well, that's the plan anyway. Who knows where life will take me and what the heck I'll end up doing, but there is nothing that could squash, smash, or steal my love for writing. I don't know what life has in stored for me, but writing is apart of the permanent plans. Anyway, here you are, The Pieces of Me, written and directed by me. Enjoy.

Movies to see by Courtney Gilliam: Movie Review #1

ME AND EARL AND THE DYING GIRL

1. The plot line is amazing, with teenage characters that have realistic insecurities and problems that you will easily fall in love with and a story you can really can into.

2. It is so darn funny! I laughed so hard at different parts and the humor is different and odd, but still fresh and something everyone finds themselves laughing at.

3. The cinematography is brilliant. The angles and filming in this movie also make the film come alive and adds to the setting and plot going on. It's really cool, and just another reason of why it's a great film. 

4. You can tell the screenplay took time, even though it is adapted from a book. You can tell how much thought and time went into this film with the little details. It's like a book is opening up right there on the screen for you, which is how it's suppose to be. I watched the movie before I got a chance to read the book, but the fact that I still want to read the book should say something about how great of a movie it is. 

5. You will laugh. you will cry. You will leave that movie with an appreciation for good film and good stories and you will undoubtedly want to write a movie review about it...oh, wait that's just me. Go, go , go, see it! It's so good. I love the narration, the characters, the short films inside the film, the dry humor and creativity, the filming, I love all of it! It's a really good movie and  I made sure in this review I did not spoil anything or ruin the plot, because I know how personal I take it when someone does that to me, I mean I'm ready to like throw down if they ruin a book or movie or play for me. I'm serious. Ha, not really. But really. Anyway I didn't ruin anything so you should go see the darn movie and tell them that Courtney sent ya. Although that won't do anything for you, like nothing. No deals or free stuff, honestly you'll probably just get some crazy looks and the movie people will be like waaaaaat, but who cares! Look crazy, be crazy, screw the rules, oh and go see Me and Earl and the Dying Girl. Ciao.

Much Love,
Courtney
(the girl who keeps rambling)

Nobody Told You...

I LOVE MOVIES. I AM ACTUALLY OBSESSED.

I am a die hard movie lover and it would be my dream to one day write my own. A successful one. I have written and directed a short film and plan on sharing that with you all in the neat future, but I want to go big time! I want to be a screenwriter and I don't know how I am going to end up there, but that is the end game. Sometimes I have this overwhelming feeling that I'll never be able to watch all the movies I want to. Like do you know how many great movies there are! Too many. It is both a blessing and a curse. I'm talking about the movies that are classics, the ones that came before I was even born, the ones that I missed, the ones that are out now, the ones coming out in the future...I want to see them all. How do I see them all? I once calculated that I would need to be watching at least two movies everyday for the rest of my life to see all the movies I want to see, but what about the movies I don't even know about! There's too many! I love going to the movies, I love Netflixing, I love all types and kinds. What a better way to tune into a great story and leave real life behind for a few moment. To feel and experience what those characters are going through and enjoy great film.

So I want to share with you my list. My list of movies you HAVE to see, because they are just that damn goooood and I want to even do a few reviews for you. I want to hear your thoughts after you watch them and I want to know if they make it on your list. I have literally carried a list of movies on my phone for like ever and I thought everyone had one, but no. Movies are life. This site is about sharing apart of my life with you and that's a pretty big part. The motivation to start this now is because I just came from a really amazing movie and it seemed like the perfect one to start my movie reviewing on soooo stay tuned because here comes my first review and a movie that should no doubt go on your list and you NEED to go see. Like stop what your doing. Stop reading. Stop it. Go see this movie. Oh wait, you don't know what it is yet, well go read my next post:) hehe

Much Love,
Courtney

** If Their Not Down for You...Let Them Go **

Who are your friends? Why are you still friends? Do they bring out the best in you? The worst? Do they support you? Come through for you? Can you be yourself around them? Do they judge you? Can you talk to them? Depend on them? Are you really friends...

There are people in my life that I call friend, but when I really think about it they offer me nothing. I have to really wonder why were friends. I have realized that there are people I am friendly with, but not really friends with. There's a difference. Sometimes I wonder if I just got thrown with some of them because we have the same color skin. It is an unproven fact that black people flock to each other; in school environments, camps, parties. We just do. I guess there's power in numbers and people are comfortable with people who are like them or rather look like them. At my school it was without a doubt de facto segregation, which pretty much means we weren't forced to segregate we just did it by choice. I have always been a diverse person who loves to mix it up, be my own person. I diversified myself in school too, but I did settle in with the "black crowd" more so. I felt like I was apart of something, and there wasn't much I had to do. 

But those friends I still try to depend on, people I try to pretend care about me, and, well, are my friend. I don't think they are. I think we got thrown together because were both black. Now were graduated and moving on with our lives, so what's the point of pretending anymore? We got each other through high school and supported that safety net of black people, but what have we really done for each other? You don't come through for me. You don't bring out the best in me. If I'm being honest you don't bring out anything in me. I can't talk to you about my life. I can't fully be myself around you. I also found out the other day, I can't depend on you. I feel like I have to be something more for you...I feel judged. I feel like I'm less with you.

Why are we still friends? We may go to the occasional party together. You make me laugh and you are fun to be around. I like telling people we are friends. But are we? Would we have ever even crossed worlds if we weren't the same skin color. Did we become friends, or did those unwritten rules just push us together? This may seem like it's to one person, but it's actually quite a few people that I have no idea why I still pretend I care or that they care. They know nothing about my life and I know nothing about theirs. Nothing more than the surface. It's not that I don't want to. I would love to, but that's not how it is. I have a feeling that soon we will no longer even refer to each other as friends, were drop lower than that. We'll be those people who used to know each other. If someone asked, "How do you know them?", our relationship would be reduced to the simple words, "They used to go to my school" nothing less, nothing more. Just someone from the past. 

Who are your friends? Why are you still friends? Do you really know? Relationships, friendships, they are hard work and they can disappear before your eyes in the matter of seconds, becoming nothing more than a memory... relationships are a two way street and one person cannot be doing all the work. It'll never last. I work really hard at my friendships and I hold the real ones close to my heart. But I'm tired of the fake ones. There comes a time where you just have to know when to let it go. You just let time do your dirty work and let it all blur into the past and become a nice memory. It's sad to lose touch with people, to lose a friend. But sadly it's apart of growing up. That's how you know the difference between a true friend and a fake one. It doesn't take long to figure out the difference between the two, sometimes were just too desperate to hold on. Were trying to convince ourselves they're all real, that they all care, that were not alone. We have people. We all just want to have people. So sometimes we accept it all; the good friends, the bad, the flaky ones, the unloyal ones, the real and the fake, the selfish ones, the cunning ones, the lousy ones, all of them. But it'll just end up making us feel even more alone, because what's the point of having your people if you can't depend on them? Trust them? My circle of friends is small and I like it like that. Sometimes I cling to the fake ones, but I know I always have my real ones. I am finally realizing exactly who my friends are, and I hope you do too, it'll save you from a lot of disappointment.

People watching in the airport...

I've been sitting on a plane and waiting in airports all day. My favorite part is not the flying or take off or the freedom of being alone, but seeing all the people. People from all over the world and all look different. I look at them and I just want to know their story. It's crazy to me how each person has a whole other world happening outside of mine and for a few moments our paths get to cross. Each of us have had individual experiences and moments that the other will never have. A whole little universe in their mind and I would only be so lucky if I got to hear even just a piece of it. Each of us have our own problems and worries and that is one of the most important things I believe people should always remember: were all dealing with our own shit. Your having a bad day? Guess what, so is a billion other people, so why take out your frustrations on them? Were all people. We all struggle. None of us are perfect. We all have a story. People like to assume things based off of appearances alone, which I may be guilty of right now while people-watching in the airport, but there are so many things we don't know or understand about a person until they open up. For instance people love to assume because I went to a christian school nothing ever went wrong and we were all perfect angels and any fights that broke out were over who could praise Jesus the best...wrong. Wrong. Wrong. I don't like to act like I went to some badass school that was super intense but I get stuck talking to people about only the crazy stuff that happens just to prove that I went to a regular school with regular problems and regular drama and awful school lunches. Were all people and just because we went to a christian school doesn't mean we still don't have bad days, that we aren't still teenagers trying to party and fit in, and number #1 just everybody who goes there is not really a christian.Were people just like the rest of them! We screw up. We make mistakes. Were sinners like the rest of them (not that that is a good thing). Yes, I was probably in a school with better circumstances than most, but it was not all happy perfect all the time like people just assume it is. Don't assume. I honestly really do love people and I love sharing my story with others (well, once I decide to trust you) and I love hearing other people's. I think if people could just always be willing to listen and considerate the world would be a much nicer place. Too bad were all selfish and self involved.  Worried about ourselves and assuming the worst. I'm just as guilty, but I'm not completely gone, I'm still hopeful and I still want to meet new people and I'm still willing to give them a chance...or atleast I try.

Time.

I am not patient. I am not patient driving. I am not patient waiting for my future. I want everything now and I want to know what to expect. Well, most of the time. I do like some spontaneity, but only the kind I agree to and plan, so is it really spontaneous? I have been sitting here for the last few hours waiting and waiting and I do a lot of that-- I wait and watch the clock, whether it be for it to speed up or slow down I feel like sometimes I am never content with where I am. Wouldn't life be so much easier if it actually did work on a remote control, like that awful movie Click that had Adam Sandler in it ( not your best work buddy). But really it would probably be a disaster if we each had that power and the world would be all kinds of whack. I'm just being a typical human and wishing I could control something that I have no business in trying to control and isn't meant to be controlled. Time waits for no man. It doesn't have favorites, not by race, or gender, or plumpness, or prettiness. Time doesn't discriminate and it ignores no one. It reaches us all at the worst possible times when were yelling, "Please, wait!! I'm not ready to move on" and the others when were pleading, "Hurry up, hurry up! I can't take this anymore" or "I want to make this moment last forever", "I want to always remember the way he smiles", "I don't want everything to change", "Speed up because I want to move on from this pain" "I want to erase the bad times and let time take away their sting", and the ultimate, "I need more time". We always somehow end up needing more time, and it will be like that for everyone.

Constantly and daily were all just talking to clocks driving ourselves mad waiting for the next moment which leaves us either wanting more time, bored, or disappointed. Time. Time. Its always been on my mind since I was tiny. I was always waiting until I would be older until I could finally be seen as an adult, counting down my childhood. Now all I want it to do is stop, but I bet you all saw that one coming. I am not patient. I do not like time. But I have to respect it because, well, its always fair and we've had too long a history. We've gotten each other through too much. I just wish we could be more friendly, that I could take ahold of it and squeeze it for all its got. That it wouldn't make me freak out and worry or scare me half to death, that it wouldn't be like a screaming little infant always begging to be paid  attention to and I'm going crazy trying to make it happy. Always, constantly worrying and thinking about it. I don't want it to lock me down, I want it to bring me alive. I want it to wake me up. I'm so young, but I feel so old and I feel like that feeling will only get worse. I know I have endless possibilities for my future, I know I have so many opportunities, but instead of making me hope and feel alive, sometimes the time is just overwhelming. It feels like I am being swallowed up and I just want to know so bad what my future holds. I want to have all the answers. I want to know right now and I want to know what I need to do. I don't want a plan, I want the plan. I'm impatient. Time is simply another enemy to me right now and I wish it didn't feel that way, like I am always on a clock. Like I never have enough time. Like time is never going fast enough. It has me captured and locked down and  I am under it's spell. I want to break that spell. I want to be released. I want to be free. I want to stop thinking about the clock. I want to be patient. I want to experience everything and enjoy my time. I want to be friends. Can we just be friends, dear ole time?  

I tried...and tried some more...and should have probably stopped but kept trying...and then failed...didn't accept my fail..then finally let go and had some icecream

Filming day outside + shitty weather = CANCELLED ( I just didn't want to accept it)

I am terrible at letting go of control. Like really terrible. It's kind of ironic too, because I am like one of the most indecisive people you'll ever meet, and in my mind I am screaming for help, for someone to just make the decisions for me, but yet I still try to do it all on my own and I can't give up my control easily. I like being in charge and making decisions, I'm just not good at making decisions. For instance, I wrote an 8 page paper when I was trying to decide where I was going to college (It didn't help). I want things to happen right the first time and go exactly how I plan, and by now with all the disappointment I have faced with that I should know better and that it never ever goes according to plan. Life is gonna screw with you a bit and you just gotta roll with the punches. You gotta let go.

Today the weather screwed everything up. I mean it really pissed all over my parade and there was nothing I could do about it, it was out of my control, but yet I fought it for as long and hard as I could. I was about one step away from creating some anti- rain dance (whatever that would look like)...anyhow I had to make some hard decisions, and I had to make them fast, because people were counting and waiting on me, they were waiting for my nay or yay. It was kinda overwhelming, and I was so frustrated that it wasn't going how I planned. Trying to work around people's schedules is hard enough and trying to find another date, another time, hoping people won't cancel, hoping you made the right call, because what if the rain is  going to clear up anyway? Or what if it comes back that day you reschedule to? What if you made the wrong decision? What about those people who were already on their way? Those people who are going out of town next week? The people who got everything ready for you and picked up food? What about those people! I know I shouldn't but I work overtime trying to make sure everyone has everything they need, that they are pleased. I can be persistent as all get out and I will work overtime to make sure my friends are good. That sometimes means bugging the crap out of them like if I am trying to work something around their schedules and make it to where they can all come, even if they tell me over and over again that they can't, I will still try because I like working things out for people, I like bringing people together, and I like making people happy.

Today I learned a lesson in letting go of control and how the weather can really be an inconvenience. But my disappointment might be somebody else's blessing and maybe they needed that rain today. Maybe it's all for a reason and today was just not the day. Maybe. I guess we'll find out next week...it'll either all go to shit or be better than I could have ever imagined/planned.

You're Not a Hoe...just a girl in the 21st century

Nobody Told You I Love...

Attention. Attention. Attention. That's what we girls love, we want to turn heads, we want someone to notice us, to go out of their way to talk to us, because were just that damn special. Attention is really what everybody craves, we want to be worth someone's time, we want to be valued, we want to be important. Attention equals some body caring about you, even if it's just for a second. We become addicted to it, we crave it 24/7, and we act a little crazy. But who doesn't want to feel special? Who doesn't want to be able to capture someone's undivided attention, that's all were chasing. Were trying to fall in love and ride out that forever high. But somewhere along the way it all got muddled. The rules kind of changed on us. For instance, I was on my run earlier today and there was a group of guys that called out to me, like typical cat calling kind of stuff, and I know I should have been offended and channeled my feminist powers, but gosh darn it I didn't mind. I kind of liked it. I liked the attention! Sue me. Does that make me a bad person, or a hoe, because I like to run in a sports bra or wear a crop top or put on shorts that are probably a little too short, does it? I know what looks good on my body and, no, sometimes I don't try to cover it up, I don't always wear the loose shorts to hide my butt or the high collar tops to hide my boobs. I love my body (most of the times) and why should I change what I wear to blend in or to avoid turning heads. I'm a person. I like good fashion and cooling off when it's too hot, maybe secretly I am doing it for the attention, but does the attention have to change who I am? I know my worth and I know my value, and I wouldn't have spent a millisecond talking to any of those guys, because 1) that isn't how you talk to a girl (like come on, grow some balls) and 2) I know they knew nothing about me and were just going off my looks (I know I deserve better than that). Girls struggle a lot of times with knowing their worth, and I struggled with it for a really long time. A really, really long time.  I like feeling cute, I want to feel wanted, to feel beautiful, I like grabbing someone's attention, and I like the confidence it brings me. You just can't get a girl down when she knows she looks good and the hair is on point with the outfit. Today, girls are told the more skin showing the better and we hear all the time on the radio women being called "hoes" and "sluts". But I choose not to accept that and neither should anyone else. Were not hoes, were just women of the 21st century and were following the rules that society has made for us. Because, sadly enough, it gets results. Those girls who dress the most "hoeish" (created a word) and slutty, yeah they get bad attention from other girls and they attract the wrong guys, but the point is they get the attention! And in this century where everyone is so self involved and barely looking up from their phones that's a big deal for us girls. It shouldn't be but it is. I'm not saying whether or not these rules should be followed and that you need to hoe it up to get a man, not at all, I guess I'm just saying I understand. We see what people wear on TV we see our favorite celebrity's styles we see how boys respond, and damn it we just can't get enough of the attention. Attention. Attention. Attention.

But, Attention: here's the silver lining, those clothes don't make us who we are (Not that there aren't some real hoes actually out there, but strictly talking on clothes) They may reflect us struggling to find ourselves, but they do not define us. I am not a hoe. You are not a hoe. We are girls of the 21st century just trying to prove we still exist. This is cheesy as all get out but its what's on the inside that matters and how you let a guy treat you. I love fashion, I love my cute crop tops and my short shorts and I ain't changin it for nobody, and all you judgers and hypocrites are just gonna have to deal with it.

DAILY WRITE

A bunch of white people, Alcohol, and fake laughing a few hours later...

(writing when you want to punch people)

I am not a character. 

I am not here for your amusement.

I am not your guinea pig to try out all those black jokes you've been holding in.

I am not the entertainment or your one chance to prove your not a racist.

I am not here to be mocked or mimicked, to become the person in your life to represent all black people to you.

I am not a character. 

I do not need your conversations to revolve around the color of my skin, just because conversation is slim.

To tell me the latest stories with "my people" in it.

To hear you say your favorite line, over and over again, "Not being racist, but..." and think you have to point your dried up eyes at me.

No, I will not dance for you.

I will not rap for you.

You cannot touch my hair.

Obama is not my best friend.

I do not want to answer all those curious questions you never thought to ask until I walked in.

This is no experiment.

I am not to be abused, to be used, or laughed at.

Your cackling like you understand my life, like you have been given some great privilege, like I am not the one who should be laughing at all of you.

You with your stale conversations, your never ending cocktails, your bored hands.
If everything in the world stopped moving I would still have a hard time trying to hear that heartbeat coming from your chest.

I am not a character. 

My family is not for you either, and although they may play right into your clammy, restless hands, I, however, can see you simply eating them alive, marking off your list. Making sure they fit all the usual stereotypes, forming them into the colored, loud, ghetto characters you need them to be.

But please, do not insult my intelligence.

I don't need you to be color blind, I need you to not be so ignorant.

I have color and life and mountains so deep down inside of me that it could stretch across two universes and over the longest sea...

I have ideas. Thoughts. A story.

I want you to open your eyes. I want you to stop trying so hard for us to relate. I want you to enjoy my company, not my whole race...

I want you to be happy.

But, darling, I am and never will be a character to you and your needs. 

My music has a race...who knew?

Nobody Told Me...

Listening to anything other than rap or R&B automatically classifies you as not being black. Who Knew? I didn't. I have always been a person of variety and need diversity in my life. That includes my music selection. I have no problem and rather enjoy singing along to some Fetty Wap or Drake, but I just as much love me some Adele or Of Monsters of Men or the Lumineers, and apparently that takes away quite a big chunk of my black credibility (Oh just incase you missed that cute lil picture of me to the side I am black btw). But what I realized today and really everyday, is that standard has a way of making me feel ashamed of my "non black music". Or rather I feel like I have to prove myself more and well it always feels like I am breaking some rule in the code of black people. When I'm by myself it's whatever, but the struggle inside of me is always there when I'm running with my music out loud, driving, or with friends. For instance, why is it that when I drive with my windows down and the music up (which I love to do) I feel like my music selection reflects so much about me. When I am playing what people like to call my "white" music I have my finger ready on the button to roll up the windows if I have to stop at a red light or if I see another car's window down beside me. But if I'm playing what people like to call my "black" music then I have a little bit more level of comfort, like I'm doing what I'm supposed to do, or rather following the rules. But there's still not that much comfort. This is where I find myself in another conundrum. When I'm listening to my "black" music I still feel ashamed and am ready to roll the windows up, because I feel like a stereotype. There is one thing you should know about me: I HATE STEREOTYPES. And sometimes I find myself going against stereotypes just for the hell of it to prove to people that people are people and you cannot just judge them solely on the color of their skin, their religion, their finances, or whatever else. You just can't! And I hate when people do it to me. So I find myself getting uncomfortable in the car when I'm listening to my "white" music because I am afraid of being judged for not being black enough and my "black" music because I don't want to be that typical black child riding down the highway with my rap music blasting. What is wrong with me! Sometimes I find myself so hell bent on being different or wanting to show people that their snap judgments are wrong that I pretend to be something I'm not, and get swallowed up so much that I lose myself. It's kind of exhausting. By the way who in the world decided to classify music by race, like what???

All of this really boils down to one thing: I care too much about what people think about me; I care too much about the rules. BUT here is the silver lining: My music does reflect who I am. It shows all my wonderful layers and intricate details that people don't know and I don't know why I try to keep it hidden. I'm different. I'm diverse. I'm not a stereotype and I'm not basic. I'm not into "white" or "black" music. I'm simply in the business of good music. That music that gives me that rush because its just that damn good.  Sue me but I like my songs to have some actual meaning to them every now and then instead of the usual mumbo jumbo we all get caught up into listening to all the time. Music that makes my heart soar and gives me that unexplainable feeling makes me beyond happy, because it really is poetry, it's art. It brings me to life just as much as writing does ( The best is writing and listening to music together...I know, crazy right?). My music does reflect me as a person, you can't say it doesn't and I like who I am. So I'm working on forgetting the rules and not caring if my friends think my music is weird. Because I'm gonna blast it til the sun don't shine (or at least I'm working on it).

Much Love,
Courtney

DAILY WRITE

A Rush of Emotion
By Courtney Gilliam
(Written today)

I felt a rush of emotion.
A tiny river erupting from my eyes,
The only way my heart could explain and soothe its self at the same time.
Words just wouldn't do,
and my mind knew it too.

Down my face,
The rain of a powerful but neglected storm fell.
Creating new grooves and surfaces
Creating a new wall of armor,
With compartments to catch my fallen dreams.
I felt a rush of emotion,

Overtaking my spirit
And drowning me out in the ocean deep waters of the future.

After awhile, all dried up,
My heart hardened and broke for the millionth time.

A trail of dust inside the newly opened ridge down my long and weary face.
A glistening in my eyes that still foolishly hopes to be heard.

Finally, I look up and realize,
My storm, my river, my deepest ocean,
It is but a single tear.
One youthful, explosive droplet,
Impatient for the future,
And terrified of the unknown.

A Love That Hurts

Okay so there are some really awesome people out there and one of them was even kind enough to make a book cover for my new novel. So shoutout to @littlemisscuriousity who I talked to for the first time yesterday. But this is the new cover for my novel on wattpad,  so go check it out and follow along. Chapters are added daily. I was really excited to write it and finish it and I just about had a heart attack last night when I shared the link with my friends and family, but I'm just as excited for people to read it too. So comment, like, follow, and enjoy, A Love That Hurts.

Here is the description to get you started: 

Some mistakes have the ability to haunt you for the rest of your life. Sara Jamison made a big one for ever trusting her former boyfriend and letting him into her life. As much as she tries she can't seem to get away from her past and move on. Everything reminds her of him. Memories of their past life are always running through her head and the special way he loved her imprinted on her body. She has gotten through her life keeping people, especially her sister, at a distance with her sarcasm and humor and accepted her life the way it is.

But when she least expects it she meets Chris, and she wants to let go of the past and everything holding her back, but it always seems to be a barrier between them and one she can't seem to climb over or escape. She thought she knew love, but she realizes she had it all wrong. But the more she keeps her secrets to herself the bigger they seem to grow and control her future.  She thought she was done with her past but what happens when it comes back to haunt you? She knows she must face it if she ever truly wants to be happy, but suddenly she has to decide if that happiness is worth dying for... 

Sara has felt two completely different loves in her lifetime, but both of them carry a weight that hurts to feel. The first, a desperate, painful kind of love. The other, a selfless, all-consuming love that runs so deep it hurts. If only she knew the consequences of both.

DAILY WRITE

I Wanted My Own
By Courtney Gilliam

I heard the sadness whisper their name

And I wanted a part of it.

I saw the sadness shut them down,

And it sort of drew me out.

I saw her pulling on them,

Stretching them out

And I wanted to step up and play.

I saw how she kissed and caressed them

And I wanted that comfort.

I knew they were in pain,

But I wanted a piece of it,

I wanted my own.

I knew I should have been patient,

That she would come soon enough

I knew her love would crush me,

I knew she would take my soul

Yet I entered her gates early

And called her by name.

And as soon as she kissed me,

I was addicted to the pain.

I didn’t want her anymore

But she dug her claws in deep,

Making me think she was all I had left,

That this feeling was all that I need.

From the outside she was beautiful

But from the insides of my soul,

She was a chilling and torturous beast.

BREAKING NEWS

Nobody Told you...

I actually hate sharing my work, but I think that is natural for any writer at first. It took me awhile to even start this blog because I worried about failure and the people close to me reading my thoughts. I can be a pretty closed off person, and I don't like people to know too much, but anyway here we are. A place where you get all the thoughts and ramblings of me and I am holding nothing back. I am making strides in sharing my work, because I know that is the only way I will get better. I have to keep moving forward. So the reason for the breaking news: I have officially finished and uploaded my second novel. The breaking part is that I uploaded it, I didn't even share the first one really besides to a few people and now this one is up for all to see and I want you to share in it to! You can find it at wattpad, my username is courtneygilliam7 and the novel, A Love That Hurts, will be coming to you in parts every week. I know I have a few friends too lazy to read anything longer than a tweet, but if you just read the description I think it will catch your interest and keep you reading daily. Thank you and happy reading!!

Much Love,

Courtney

DAILY WRITE

Sweep Sweep

Shh Shh don't worry it's all over now

Just a quick sweep under the rug

And it will all disappear.

Sweep Sweep 

There there all your problems have magically deceased

Everyone go on your merry day. 

Don't lift another finger to actually clean up all your dirty laundry and filth,

Don't worry this is so much quicker, easier.

No more raised voices

Only the sneaky insects and nosy creatures will really know what happens inside your broken home

Sweep sweep

There you go, all under the rug,

No one acknowledge it, no one fight it,

Just let it all build up. 

Sweep sweep

Only the lurking  creatures know your dirty secrets

Only the curious bugs know how fake you really are

Sweep sweep

Sweep sweep

Just hope the rug doesn't blow off,

Just hope the dirt doesn't come back in your eyes,

Because you may start to cry

Cry uncontrollably.

That dirt can get scary, suffocating

It may get hard to breathe, hard to live in

As it grows with each lie, each word.

All the quietness in the creaks, in the rooms, in your eyes

All that dirt building up overtime.

It may start to control your thoughts, 

Control your tears.

But don't worry, forget about it

Just blink the dirt away

Just ignore it like you always do

Just hope your broken home doesn't blow away

Sweep Sweep

Sweep Sweep

One day it'll all be okay.

WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE SO HARD?

Nobody Told Me...

Trusting people would be so hard. Really, putting your faith or trust into anything besides yourself is rather difficult, at least for me it is. Today I realized that not a single person on this earth knows everything about me, and when I say everything I mean everything; all my quirks, my annoying habits, my thinking process, my fears, my dreams (from small to big), my family problems (we all got em), or my heart. All of it. I don't know if anybody can say that another person knows them completely and if you believe you do then bless your little heart and I hope it doesn't break. But let's be real if you opened up a person's mind and thoughts their would be a lot there they wouldn't want other people to know. I guess if I had to rank the people who know the most about me it would be 1) my sister and 2) my two best friends but still not even they know the extinct of everything and I know I don't know everything about them either. It's like an unwritten rule somewhere that you have to keep at least a few of the dark and scary details of your life to yourself. Your secrets are yours and it is a fact that they are safer in your hands because people are going to let you down. They will disappoint. So we all go throughout life always holding a little bit back, never fully letting go. Could you imagine a world where people not only could be trusted but were trustworthy? Yea, me neither. I don't know if this is just one of my weird things but sometimes when I'm talking to people who love me, who are suppose to love me no matter what I have to literally tell myself, "Courtney, that's your best friend (or sister)... it's okay to trust them" and it will help me to open up just that little bit more, but isn't it sad that I have to remind myself of that? That my first instinct is to keep the walls of my soul up and heavily guarded ready to release fire at any miss step. But I guess nobody told me how to trust, and that is trust fully. With a simple smile or wave of a hand I can get my way through anything, pretending with the best of them that I don't need help and I have my life all under control. But really it just gets lonely. I tell my friends everything, but not too much and nobody told me how to go over that line, to cross over it flawlessly and not feel a pain of regret and wish I could jump back over it quickly. I'm still figuring that out. But here is the irony, sometimes it's those people that we trust that we lie to the most, when they make a mistake or cross a line or do something we don't like it's even harder to speak up, because we don't want to risk a fight or losing them. So at times I just go silent, and what kind of friendship is that? We keep our little secrets for our eyes only because, well, we hate to be judged, to avoid getting hurt, or to keep the way people see us picture perfect. We want the life we've built to be seen, nothing else.

But here's the silver lining... Trusting people is hard and it most definitely can end in disappointment. But when you trust people you are happier. A load is lifted from you and a pressure released from your chest. It's hard but trust is important and in return people trust you. You feel loved and you don't feel like your fighting off the whole world. Just little by little trust someone with your soul, it's not for us to keep hidden away to ourselves. You won't be able to protect yourself from disappointment or heartache no matter how hard you try. The only thing you can do is be careful about the people you choose to trust and take that leap of faith. Trusting is hard, but the silver lining is it gets easier and it's worth it. 

Much Love,
  Courtney

Nobody Told Me the Rules

Life is complicated. It seems to be made up of a thousand little rules telling people what is and is not socially acceptable, and it is our job to figure them out flawlessly with no mistakes, easy right? BULL CRAP. For me it seems like one big set up to make you feel embarrassed, awkward, or insecure. I mean how can I know all the rules of apparently the acceptable way to be black, the rules of being the "perfect" girl, not just for myself but for that future husband I have to find, the rules of somehow knowing everything, so people don't think your stupid in college, the rules of always being ready and never caught of guard, because remember I'm suppose to know everything.The rules of the "right" way to love, the rules of being different but not stepping across that line too much, the rules of success, no matter if it requires you to sell your soul, and the rules of what every writer should be reading about or writing about. All these pesky rules telling me how to be me, and although I shouldn't I break my neck, a leg, and a few butt bones trying to follow each one, trying my best to follow the rules. But it's really quite a conundrum, because I only find out about the rules once I've broken them and messed up the social handbook. Do you know why? BECAUSE NOBODY TOLD ME THE RULES. They all (and I'm still working on who "they" is in this scenario) are just trying to figure out how to make you look dumb, to make you feel like you don't know what your doing, and that you haven't got a clue at this life stuff. Well, breaking news: we don't. We are all struggling through life together being the perfect little angels we are and staying inside of society's rules and standards, impossible standards I may add. We know we all mess up, but one of life's major games that everyone loves to participate in is how to keep other people from knowing it, how to make our lives seem better than theirs and pretend the hiccups are all apart of our master plan (cue evil laughter). It's probably my favorite game, and I have gotten exceptionally good at it, maybe because I've been playing  it since I could walk. The point is I never know the rules and it leaves me either mind blown, embarrassed, or lucky (because sometimes I get it right, sometimes).

BUT there is always a silver lining in it all. People love to focus on all the unfairness of life and the negative, but I believe there is always some positive. It may be extremely hard to find in certain situations and even damn near impossible. But with every post I plan to bring you a little happy thought to take away, no matter how challenging that might be. My name is Courtney Gilliam and I am new to the world of blogging but I am so excited to tell you the tales of my life, the realizations of new rules, my outrage of certain standards and I promise to entertain. Although that is not why I am here. I know for awhile I may just be talking to myself, which is okay because I do that all the time anyway (I'm not crazy). I'm not doing it for the million bajillion followers (but you are welcome of course) but because I love to write, I love stories, and I love to tell them. I want to hear other people's stories and I want to hear about all those pesky rules and limitations they deal with. So please feel free to comment, to join in, and visit me daily. My blog is about the rules nobody told me and how I face them and react. Plus, in trying to become a better writer their will be a daily write, ranging from poetry, short stories, short screenplays, and whatever writing there is from new pieces of work to old, and I would love your feedback. There are a thousand things I don't know and it will be an adventure learning and growing along the way. I don't know all the rules, no one does, and if they say they do their lying to you, but as the old saying goes, rules are made to be broken, or in simpler terms: BOO THE RULE FOLLOWERS! And not only do they make good lessons, but they also make damn good stories.