Is it better to have loved and lost then never to have loved in the first place?

I casually stumbled upon @faygeorgina88's blog She quotes those are the words she lives by..It's better to of loved and lost then never of loved at all. I used to live by those exact words and even though it rings true, I still have reservations. Experiencing love, REAL LOVE( and no it wasn't mutual) and heartache, it causes me to pose the question. What if i never loved him? I wouldn't experience the pain i felt when i found my love was not returned, when i found my dreams and visions about him weren't real. Of course, there would be a downside to having my memory wiped..the good memories. The memories of me being apart of his team, of us arguing and him getting on my damn nerves, the jokes and the laughs (all of the above). I loved him for two years and still love him, and even though i didn't know him (i knew him, still do). We didn't have a relationship we had a situationship. We have history, and that's where it gets sticky cuz for me (at least for right now) i'd rather choose the ladder. Love hurts. But the moral to the story is...take the good with the bad. Cherish the memories. Try not to regret it if you can.... My 2 cents

84 pages down! 37 to go

I'm halfway done and it feels even though its been awhile since I've written anything other than a script, it feels like i never left. I don't consider myself a newbie because I've always wrote (just under a different format) After years of second guessing i'm finally staying put, finding my niche' I'm very excited about this book. Excited about people reading this book, reading this hopefully unique story. I'll keep you posted

Lesson Learned

I've had my fair share of experiences..had my first love (unrequited) and my heartbroken cause it was unrequited, and had my first and second hater.  At first when I saw her tweets i racked my brain to find out why she was judging and posting negative things about me.  I'm a good person with a good heart but some people just hate for no reason.  Maybe she was jealous or hate the fact that i'm not scared to say what she wanted to.  Who Knows?


My first unrequited love..was a independent R&B artist hailed from London.  I first discovered him when my sister posted a YT video of his and at the time i was scrolling through her FB wall posts. It was January, 2012 I think.  Kinda foggy on the month.  I watched his Sex Therapy cover and was blown away.  And everyday after that i checked out his channel, watching his covers like crazy.  I was a fan in that moment.  I found his twitter page, followed him.  After about a month or two, we developed a rapport (friendship) and i started catching feelings for him.  I asked him if he was taken.  He said yes and my heart sank.  I don't know why but my first emotion has always been anger.  In an effort to not bore you with my story, i'll cut to the chase.  Two and a half years i was apart of TeamDDB and was grateful to be apart of something so great.  Even now, i have no ill feelings toward the other party.  He was indeed a lesson and not the blessing i had so hoped he would be.  But it changed me for the better..a very important lesson.  I've literally created 4 TeamDDB accounts (on separate occasions) cuz i didn't want to give up on him.  But what I had to realize was, it wasn't about him it was about me.  Months after i deactivated my last and final account (TeamDDBLVL) i made a decision i can no longer be his fan but i do want to try  to be friends.  But now i'm not so sure.  If i  really knew him it would seem like we've been through a lot..and i think we have. But just because you've been through alot with someone  doesn't necessarily mean that you need to rebuild.  Sometimes you have to read the signs, keep it moving and cherish the memories.

Newbie to book marketing

I recently paid for a promotional service to promote my book. It was 99$. Any higher and I wouldn't have done it.  I did because clearly because my promotion sucks.  I can admit it.  All I can say I did my best (got my book on B&N Nook, google play and Kobo and send out some free press releases, used Twitter, FB , Instagram and Google + to my advantage, got 31 downloads on my free days, some sales) but I guess it wasn't good enough.  But i'm reminded of what my ex online friend told me.  To just be patient.  While it is true, i haven't fully mastered that yet.  But I don't want overnight success.  Because while it would make me happy, it could be taken away just as easily as I got it.  So while i'm learning to be patient i'm still learning the ropes of book marketing and promotion
The fat lady hasn't sung yet

Nirvana

We say goodbye to 2013
And hello to 2014
Making room for new opportunities
Considering the possibilities
Making New Years resolutions that never stick
Saying things like I'm gonna lose 30 pounds
Imma quit smoking or quit drinking
But never getting around to achieving it
Thinking all they gotta do is say the words and God'll pull them through
God helps those who help themselves
And those that better themselves
Everybody's screaming New Year New Me
And i'm like New Year
Old me
Different mindset
Cuz i wasn't fully awakened yet
I was still stuck in the past
Not what is
But what was
What shoulda been
What coulda been
It shoulda been us
But there is no us anymore
Said goodbye a long time ago
You and me equals mess
A mess i can't clean up
A mess i can't make sense of
My eyes are open
And finally see myself for who I am
Not that person i forced myself to be
I loved you
I looked up to you
Wanted to be like you
But you can't love anyone
Cuz you can't even love yourself
How could I look up to someone so small

R.I.P M.A.D

Tarnished ( Spoken Word Poetry)

In transition mode

I'm currently working on my second book, which was at first meant to be screenplay, back when i actually wanted to be screenwriter.  Novels are more detail - oriented whereas a screenplay (script) is all about action, thus my dilemma.  I sometimes find it difficult when I'm writing to resist the urge to go straight to the heart of it considering what is still burned in my brain.  Like if i was still writing the script, i would write a brief flashback instead of a more detailed flashback.  I find myself having to retrain my brain sometimes.  It's been awhile since i have written a novel.  But definitely not inexperienced.  There's just some things you can't unlearn.

My goal is to write a thousand words a day.  I tried the Stephen King method (2,000 words a day) but needless to say it doesn't work for me.  Everything ain't for everybody.  But i do try to stick by his message "read alot and write alot"  I'm on page 49 of my book, Blood Is Thicker Than Water and am excited to see what unfolds and what my readers will think of it.  To give you a taste of what I've been working on, here's a preview.

Maize pulled up to the driveway, stepped out of the car and noticed that the door was cracked.  He walked in.  The house was quiet.  Too quiet.  The lights were off.  Pitch black.  He couldn’t see a thing.  He turned on the lights and saw the thing he was most afraid of.  My mother.  Laying in a pool of her own blood.  It had turned black and gooey.  He looked at her pale face.  Then at the rest of her.   Not only was she murdered, but the bastard took it upon himself to mutilate her body.  A big K was carved in her.  He was horrified at the sight of it.  He could only imagine what we were going through.  Who would do something like this?  He thought. 

He noticed the gun next to her body.  He glanced at it, picked it up.  It looked like his gun but it wasn’t.  Someone was out to frame him.  But he didn’t know who just yet.  Suddenly he turned around and saw us standing in front of him.  The sound of police sirens interrupted him before he could say anything.  They were coming closer.  We looked at him.  Saw the blood.  Her face.  The carving.  We were in a state of shock.  It was a horrible experience.  No child should see what we saw.  The kind of thing that could scar someone for life. 

Maize was in cuffs.  The house was surrounded by police officers.  Dusting for fingerprints.  Taking snapshots of her from all different angles.  Observing the body.  Questioning Isobel and I.  We stared at her corpse.  A single tear trickled down my cheek.  One of the officers covered her with a sheet as if that would get the image out of our heads.

“Did you guys happen to see anything?”  The rookie asked.  He was fresh out of the academy and anxious to dip his toes in the proverbial pond.

I wasn’t talking.  To anyone.  Neither was Isobel.  We had so many things consuming our thoughts, that we couldn’t keep them straight.  We blocked him out.

“Did your mom have any enemies?  Come on, help me help you.”

“Talk.” He said, frustrated, slapped me across my face.

“Talk.” He slapped me again.

“She’s been through enough.”

Suddenly the detective lifted up the police tape, walked in.

“What do we got?”

“Single black female.  Early to late thirties.  Shot to death.  And the perp was thoughtful enough to send a message.”

He lifted up the sheet, examined the body.  He was utterly disgusted.  In all his years he spent investigating dead bodies, this was a definite first.

“We got a suspect in custody.  Fingerprints were found on the murder weapon.  He got motive and opportunity.”

“Did anyone see anything?”

“They were the only ones to see her before she died.  They know something, but they’re not talking.” He gestured to us.

“Maybe they don’t like you.”

“Be my guest.”

He approached us, took a seat on the couch.  He looked as if he knew what we were going through.

“My name is detective Forrester.  I know this is tough on you.  I considered your mother a friend.  I want to put whoever did this behind bars.  But I need your help.”

Tarnished

You and me will never be
So I'm asking God why me
Why these visions
The dreams of him and me
When it really wasn't him at all
It was The Devil
Tricking me
Confusing me
Making me think it was prophecy
No matter how many times I ignore the truth
My heart is deeply wounded
And the scars are buried so deep no one can see
He was my first
I remember when I was just infatuated with him
Even before I caught real feelings for him
Asking God to let me be his rib
Thinking he was just a faze like all the rest
Thinking he fitted into this pattern I created for myself
But I was dead wrong
I got trapped
I fell for a dude I hardly know
For a dude I never even met
I had dreams of being his wife
Of having his child
Of helping him build his empire
And even though I cut all ties with him
I still love him more than I love myself
I never felt this way about anyone in my life
What crazy situation did The Devil put me in
How did this happen?
I didn't sign up for this
I didn't want this
Wanted the regularity
The stuff I'm used to
I'm still new to this
See, all my other infatuations had a shelf life
I was so used to it
Who knew this dude was gonna break the pattern and have me questioning what's real and what's not
I don't know what's real anymore
If this is a test
I'm flunking
I'm talking F+++
Cuz in all reality it doesn't matter to me
Who he is
Who he was or will be
He's not apart of my life
And I make no bones to be apart of his
Cuz the truth is
An even more still
I just want him to be happy
Hope he's with who he's meant to be with
Hope she pops out 4 or 5 kids
Hope he lives happily ever after
If I believed in happily ever after
I gave him all of me
An maybe that's where I went wrong
I actually thought he was The One
Cuz he was the one that got through to my heart

What's Next?

I'm working on my next book. A mystery/thriller novel about a woman who tracks down her mother's killer while losing herself in the process. A modern day whodunit with some drama and romance mixed in.   Expressions Of Me ,while thrilling to write, may be my first and last poetry book but I can't predict the future. All I know I have a lot of up and coming projects in my head and they come in the form of a novel.  Writing has always been my passion, rather it be poems, novels or screenplays.  I'm going wherever God leads me, and right now he's leading me to my first love.  All authors can't be screenwriters. And all screenwriter's can't be authors. Maybe I'm the ladder.

R.I.P M.A.D

The memory of her
The idea of her
The dream of her
The concept of her
It's like i'm lost without her
I feel so close to her
But i don't even know her
Yet she's apart of me and I'm apart of her
She's not even born but i already named her
She doesn't exist
Yet i already claimed her
She will never exist and yet i still cling to her
Non-existent or otherwise, she's still mine
A reflection of me.
I feel like I'm going crazy cuz I imagine what she looks like through my eyes
If she has my dimples
Or his nose
His eyes and my smile
I may never know
But this situation has awakened feelings in me I never knew I had
I know I want to be a mother
I know I would give my all to her
Do anything for her
Take lives for her
Beat her if she turns out to be as bad as her cousins
Give her more than I ever had
Protect her
Love her more than anyone ever will
Be there for her first steps
Her birthdays
High school graduation
Mend her broken heart
Tell her men are scum.
Until you find that one
That changes your life
I can't let go of her
I've gotten so used to her
She lives in me forever
I don't even know her
And yet i miss her.




Rest in peace Amari

Eyes Wide Shut(Spoken Word Poetry) @Aray_Brown

Expressions Of Me

Wanna know what's inside this book? Here's your chance to find out. Enjoy your sample! If you like it and want more pls click the link

Mirror

__________________________________________________________

You claim to be a real nigga.  But you’re so see through that I can see right through you.  You’re so two faced that you don’t even know your true face.  Too far gone that you lost track of your roots.  Too busy judging others for their poor mistakes.  Throwing stones while you’re living in a glass house.  You don’t even know them.  The lives they've lived.  Their struggles.  Sacrifices they've made.  You barely even know yourself.  Sitting in the pews every Sunday.  Anxious to get in the word.  When you don’t even know what it means.  When you don’t even know God at all.  Bragging all over town about your ill gotten fame and fortune.  Your prized possessions.  Don’t you know.  It’s the people that make life worth living.  Not material.  The people you step on.  On your way up the corporate ladder.  The people you cut off.  The bridges you've burned.  Trading in your morals for a spot at the top of the food chain.  You might have gained the whole world but you sold your soul.  Worshiping false idols instead of giving the highest praise to the one that brought you through it.  The one that helped you through your tortured past.  The real reason for your existence.  See, your mom raised you to love The Lord but somewhere along the way you forget his name.  You sacrificed so much that you ended up sacrificing yourself and never looked back.  You think she would be proud of the choices you've made to get to where you are.  You forgot about the people who were there for you when you had nothing.  Who always had your back and asked for nothing in return.  You forgot about that little kid who always looked up to you.  But who you never gave a second glance to.  Who you were so quick to leave behind.  That friend you knew way back when.  When your life meant something.  You forgot about me.  You forgot about us.  Look at what you've become.  What you've been reduced to.  See, half the time you walk around with blinders on.  You can see other people but you can’t even see yourself.  Don’t even know the difference between good and evil anymore, don’t even know that this life is gonna be the death of you.  That you’re living on borrowed time.  You wanna know who am I? I’m the only one who gives a damn about you.  I’m your conscience.  Your innocence.  The voice of reason.  Your last shot at redemption.  Your last hope at gaining your humanity.

Eyes Wide Shut

__________________________________________________________

Today brings anew.  A new day.  A new dawn.  New beginning.  A beginning that gives birth to a new ending.  New journey.  New possibilities.  New opportunities.  See, Lord only knows where this road may lead.  But it’s up to us to harvest the seed.  To let it grow and be plentiful.  See, life’s too short to keep doing the same old shit.  Putting all our time and energy into something that’s not beneficial.  Into something that ain’t even influential in our lives.  So many of us strive for better.  But better never comes.  So many of us are unloved.  Unwanted.  Abused.  See we were chosen by God.  Yet so many of us feel worthless.  Misunderstood and useless, but the truth is we just haven’t realized our full potential.  We try so hard to live up to everyone else’s standards that we forget our own.  Constantly settling for less instead of holding out for bigger and better things.  Turning a blind eye to what’s truly best for us.  Living a mediocre life knowing that’s not what God planned for us.  See, life is not just a test for us.  There are no courses to flunk.  No second chances.  See, this is our future.  So many of us choose our own path instead of letting it choose us.  Everything we seek has already been promised to us.  We just gotta want it bad enough.  Live the best life we can live with the tools given.  For everyday is a blessing.  Another chance to get closer to God’s will.  Another chance to get into heaven. 

Another lesson to be learned.  Another story to be told.  Another dream shattered.  Another one left unsung.  Another teacher desperately clinging in the hopes of reaching another lost soul.  See, she cares more for her students than her own.  She’s more passionate than anyone on the board but she doesn't know where to draw the line.  Another kid drops out of school cuz he don’t think he’s good enough.  While the next one is being tossed around from foster home to foster home until the system just gives up.  Making him another statistic.  Another head case.  Filing him under wasted space.  See, they talk about educating our leaders.  But no one is interested in preserving our youth.  Building them up.  Shaping them into who they’re meant to be, what they’re born to do.  Turning them into doctors and lawyers.  Encouraging them instead of deferring them.  Helping them instead of hindering them.  Shaping them to take over the world.  Instead of tearing it down.  See, we weep for the future.  But no one’s willing to change it.  No one’s willing to open their eyes and nurture young minds.  To expand their horizons and look beneath the surface.  Telling ourselves that what we’re fighting for is worth it.

Finally ready!

Expressions Of Me is now available for purchase on Nook!

Print copies are also for sale at bookstores worldwide

Please click the following link and don't forget to rate!  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/expressions-of-me-aray-brown/1117117006?ean=9781492926214   When I first started showcasing my poetry on You tube a year ago, I had no idea it would lead to this. At first I had second thoughts about actually going through with it, considering my voice resembles that of a child's and i utterly despised it. But then something happened, I mustered the courage to do it (thanks to a certain man's you tube videos who will remain nameless) Needless to say, he inspired me in more ways than one. I feel so elated and so blessed to share my gift with the world. My collections all have a special story to tell and I'm so grateful to God for allowing me to be the voice behind it.

Expressions Of Me Book Launch

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

Dark horse in the running

Louisville, Ky - Nov 20,2013

Aray Brown, a 37 unemployed scribe writes about real issues that plague our society in her new book "Expressions Of Me" a collection of poems that also tell a tale of love, heartache, fear, redemption and hope. Aray drew from her many experiences growing up when she was forced to live with her abusive grandmother for three years while her mother was in prison. During that time she attempted to write a tell all book about the life and times she spent with her. Ever since she could remember she always wanted to be a writer but didn't dabble into poetry until later. She describes her work as " a special story that needs to be told, and I'm grateful to God for allowing me to be the voice behind it" She is currently residing in Louisville, Ky and working on her second book. For more about Expressions Of Me, contact Aray Brown at (502) 883-1425 or via email brown.aray@gmail.com CONTACT WEBSITE https://facebook.com/ArayBrownfloacistms