Tiny Leaps And Bounds

Have you ever been so confused that you need to start over?

I don’t know how people juggle multiple platform accounts. I guess that’s what managers and teams are for.

But I’m just a nobody. I’m a stay at home mom, just trying to organize and consolidate my social media. It is not easy. But, I’m getting there. All I need is content, which I’m working on. I have a mile-long list of ideas. I need to get my sh*t together and write the bloody material.

My blog is just part of the picture – the beginning stages. Honestly, I really don’t know how people like Jenny Lawson manage things. What’s the secret? Should I just stick with a few platforms, and leave it at that?

I see creators across many more platforms than I’m willing to attempt. I guess I’ll just take it a few tiny steps at a time, and see where it goes.

It’s not really my intention to get anywhere. It’s really just an outlet, to be quite honest. An outlet to keep me busy, until I go back to school.

Do I DARE create a Tumblr? Is that platform even the place for the content I want to create? I’m slightly afraid.

I’m open to suggestions.

PS: It’s Friday the 13th, and I’ve created brand new Twitter and YouTube accounts. Yesterday it was Facebook. God help me.


Locks of gold
Orbs of light
Manicured digits
Presence excites

Veiled countenance
Confident stance
Enchanting energy
Provoking a trance

Resentfully sharp
Prowler beware
Gone in an instant
Much like a hare

Such beauty should be
Observed with respect
Lest it transform
In attempt to deflect

Listen don’t look
Wise words train
For those who take heed
Glorious sound shall remain

Original poem by Cara Krzyzanowski 18 August 2017


A Place In The Clouds

For sins of the past
One eternally here
There is only pain
Its end nowhere near

Punishment undeserved
Of one not so wicked
50 years and 50 days
Then hopefully acquitted

When all hope seems lost
For a soul almost seared
An angel of mercy
From the heavens appeared

Surrendering self
There’s only one key
Unconditional love
Will set one free








Original poem Cara Krzyzanowski 13 September 2017

Inspired by Tim Donahue’s rock opera, ‘The Cage’



Practical Joker

A day late and a dollar short (what exactly does that even mean?), I’m writing this.

It’s funny I ran across this prompt, because just this morning, as I was still peeling my eyelids open (my typo originally said PEEING! Imagine peeing your eyelids open…..), a memory of me torturing my family made me laugh.

You see, I’m a sadistic little shit. I take delight in freaking people out, and/or screwing with them.

A few years ago, before my father passed away, I was sitting at his kitchen table, along with my two brothers, my father, and my daughter. My husband was in the other room watching Star Trek or something.

Everyone was so consumed in conversation, an evil little gremlin snuck into my ear and whispered “Do it“. My face morphed into a smiling Grinch, and I whipped out my cell phone, stealthily hiding it under the table as I continued pretending to listen what everyone was talking about.

My brother had his laptop on the table, and we were listening to funny YouTube videos. But naughty me, I turned on my YouTube app, and pulled up this.

DO NOT LISTEN WITH EARPHONES!!! You’ll lose your mind.

Keep in mind, I have close to 50% hearing loss, and I don’t hear anything until almost the end.  So this doesn’t really bother me.  Especially since I always have ringing and buzzing in my ears (tinnitus, thank you very freaking much!).

But within seconds, my daughter was the first one to literally SPOOK.  Of course she did!  She was sitting directly to my left, completely oblivious as to what I was doing.  Meanwhile, my father, who was on my right, proceeded to jam his little finger in his ear, wiggling it incessantly.

My brothers?  Well, the brother to the left of my daughter cocked his head sideways, looking suspiciously at his laptop, trying desperately to shutdown.  He thought it was about to explode or something.  And my brother across the table from me, killed me with his reaction.  I don’t think there are words to describe it, other than to say his eyeballs bulged, he gasped, and slapped his hands over his ears, saying “WHAT THE F*CK?!?!”  Meanwhile, my husband in the other room shouted “TURN THAT OFF!”.

I still laugh maniacally whenever I think about it.

When we were eating lunch a little bit later, my oldest brother got his revenge while I was drinking coffee, saying “Now that my ears have reset, I can continue normal conversation without having an aneurysm”.

Even though it cost me my phone for the day, everyone’s reactions were absolutely PRICELESS.

I’m so mean.


A/N: I may or may not have written about this a long time ago, on an old blog which does not exist anymore.  I couldn’t resist revisiting this memory.

Beauty Queen

Antique collectors worldwide have been anticipating an upcoming charity auction at a renowned New York City auction house. A few items of high interest possess some rather shocking lore, adding to their value.

Over the years, the questionable history behind these items has been passed along by local authorities. Tragic accounts of the previous owners’ bizarre and untimely deaths were incredible;  hence the demand for a specific antique mirror permanently nicknamed ‘Queenie’.

Many hopeful buyers crowded Queenie, reading the horrific history behind the grand beauty.  Her ornate golden frame is lined with dozens of cherub-like faces, seemingly trapped and tortured.

As the crowd dispersed, an eager elderly buyer stepped forward to read the story about Queenie:

Shortly after WWII had ended, a soldier was finally reunited with his wife and daughter. Because they missed him so much, he came bearing gifts. For his wife, a beautiful gold mirror to put in their bedroom, where she liked to sit and brush her hair every night before bed. For his daughter, who loved doing whatever mommy did, her own silver hairbrush, various fancy hair accessories, and a tiny bottle of perfume for little girls.

A few days after the soldier’s return, he received orders to return to his base for a short time. He told his wife and daughter not to worry, promising more gifts in return for their patience and understanding.

When he returned home again, he walked into his room to find his wife dead on the floor. Her face was completely twisted, her hair gone, and her eyes blackened, as if her soul had been sucked out through them. His daughter was nowhere to be found. Staring into the mirror on the wall, he screamed in despair.

Unable to cope with the grief, the soldier sold all of his wife’s and daughter’s belongings. He couldn’t bear the memories of them, not knowing what had happened. A neighbor took pity, purchasing the mirror for his wife, and some of the little girl’s clothing for his visiting niece.

A month later, tragedy struck. When the soldier hadn’t heard nor seen any activity around the neighbor’s house, he decided to knock on the door. To the soldier’s shock and disbelief, the neighbor and his wife were dead, lying face down on the floor.

Turning them over, the soldier gasped.  Their faces were twisted, hair gone, and eyes blackened. The child was nowhere to be found. Running to the mirror, he grasped the sides, screaming once again. Days later, the soldier was discovered dead at the neighbor’s house, in the same condition as the others.

Over the years, when an owner of the mirror died, authorities recorded something odd about the mirror: A new face appeared on the mirror’s frame each time someone died. It is rumored to be the child of each previous owner.

“You will be mine” the man spoke to the mirror, chuckling at the horror behind its history. He has been interested in the mirror for two reasons: the mirror was originally sold in his home town, and, he knows his wife will love such an intricate gold mirror. He feels this one might complete her collection of antique mirrors.

Upon returning home, he gently kissed his wife, and headed into the bedroom with the mirror. “Would you like it in here?” he asked as she sat on the edge of her bed. She simply smiled and nodded, running her aged fingers through her hair with anticipation.

“Have a seat, love” he spoke softly, pulling a chair in front of the mirror. From her tiny table, she reached for an old silver brush, treating her long white locks to slow, gentle strokes.

“My love” she finally spoke. “Yes?” he stood behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I’m going to be a beauty queen someday” she said with a crooked smile, spraying herself with a tiny antique perfume bottle.

Beauty queen … ?

She stood to face her husband, greeting him with blackened eyes.

Original story © Cara Krzyzanowski 5 August 2016
Edits: Cara Krzyzanowski 27 August 2017
All Rights Reserved
For information regarding copyrighted works, please contact the U.S. Copyright Office here.

Author’s note:  This work is a prelude to something insecure and dark – a collection of strange and horrific shorts. The original story has been edited and condensed to fit the creepy pasta and flash fiction genres.  The word count is strictly coincidental.
No further shorts will be published here.

Full Of Crap

As I start my day [late] with a gigantic cup of liquid energy, I sit here prodding my lazy synapses for material.

After reading horrific articles about how bad red meat is for you, and why – which led to other nightmarish material – I closed all those nightmares, and opened a new tab to see what’s happening on WordPress.

Oh yeah!  Daily prompt time!  I love writing.  Even if it’s crap writing.  Because I always have stories to tell.  Whether it’s a personal experience, or something I read about, or something on the news, I have something to say.

While some people might think I’m just being an asshole by doing this, I just consider it my way of trying to fit in.  I never seem to fit in.  Even in my own immediate family.  They look at me sideways – or quietly laugh at me – when I have a few words to say.  But then when I’m quiet, I get “What’s wrong?”  Oh … nothing.  Then there are others who just think I always have to have the last word.  My own daughter even calls me a ‘one-upper’.


So I turn to writing.  I don’t have to deal with eye rolling or the knowledge that I’m being tuned out.

But today, I’m kind of at a loss for the daily prompt.  Today’s word is visceral.

I think I have an average vocabulary level for my age and education level.  But lately, either due to age, stress, sleep deprivation, high blood pressure, or all of the above, I find that I can’t quite find my words lately.  The dictionary is my best friend lately.

But it’s not just my vocabulary I’m worried about.  I think I’m losing my mind.  Especially when I can’t think of a word or the ‘right words’ mid conversation.  I’ll suddenly stop and panic.

I KNOW what visceral means.  I’m just at a complete loss for something meaningful.  Writer’s block perhaps?

Maybe I need more liquid energy.

On that note, I bid everyone a happy and productive day.

I’m Still A Slacker

Hey guys.

So the plague is making another round in my house.  We’ve gone through so much Kleenex, we may as well own stock in the company!  Next will be Vaseline, because my nose is cracked from wiping and blowing it so much.  If it weren’t for the fact that I’m paranoid someone will snap a picture and plaster it on Facebook, I would just wad up a few chunks of the crap, and leave them shoved up my nostrils for an hour at a time.

Meanwhile, I’m so bored out of my skull, I don’t know which website to visit anymore.  I’ve literally become an internet hobo.  Thanks, Dan.  I’m a 46 year old cougar stay at home mother with not a whole lot to do while debating about which gig I want to take.

Who is Dan?  I’m not telling.  Let’s just say he’s a cute gentle giant with sass and curls – who happens to be loved by millions of phangirls.  He and his flatmate have got my creative juices flowing, and I’ve literally cranked out 16 fanfictions within the last few months.  BAD cougar.  BAD!

I told you … I’m bored.

I still love blogging, and really want to try out vlogging.  But I don’t know where to start, and I’m afraid my camera lens might crack, or the internet will crash, or Samara will come out of the computer screen at me and swallow me whole for doing something mainly 20 and 30 somethings do.

I need some motivation.  Any suggestions?

Maybe I need to finish designing my site.

Until then…


Now that I’ve upgraded my services here at WordPress, I’m at a loss for what to do.

The new year has passed, and so has my inspiration.

But back to an earlier subject.  Previous experience has pretty much flattened my desire to write lately.  I want to write, but I’m slightly deflated these days.   I love writing.  My imagination knows no bounds.  But paranoia……  Some people tell me don’t let that stop me from pursuing my dream, but I’m extremely hesitant.

I have an awesome idea for making money, but I’m 99.9% sure someone will do whatever it takes, taking me for every penny I earn.  So I’ll play it safe, and remain poor and thousands in debt.

First things first though!  I need to design my site.  Should I be lazy, and just use a pre-designed theme?  I’m not really great with graphics, other than creating a header image.  But what do I create?

Maybe it’s too late in the day to think about this.  Maybe my stomach is too full of Chipotle, or my brain is too loaded with adult beverages.  I need some inspiration!

Perhaps I’ll give it another go next week.  Maybe I’ll turn to the daily prompts.  Who knows?


Hack Hack … Cough Cough

Please excuse my dear Aunt Sally…

Oh, wait a minute.  That is the acronym (is that the correct word?!) for mathematical order of operations!  WHOOPS!  Wrong ‘Please excuse ….’ phrase.  Sorry.  My brain fell out.  It’s the holidays.  What did you expect?!

Please excuse my sneezes and belches as I restructure my life … I mean, blog.

Some of my former readers knew me under a different domain – Living Through My Music.  It was a free domain.  But I started to feel like it wasn’t quite as free as I would’ve liked it to be.  Pesky ads!

This time, I’ve actually paid for this site, and now I have a few more options.  Just an FYI though – I’ve decided to change up my game a little bit.

Some of my old content was not very thought out.  As with real life, there were many times where I would just say what was on my mind, without considering the consequences.  So I deleted everything.  I think I’ll save most of my ranting for social media … maybe.  Don’t get me wrong though!  I may still do that here on occasion.  Just not as often, and hopefully more sober.

SO, as I recover from the holidays – they’re not over yet! – I will be taking my time in designing my site.  Hopefully sooner than later.

See you soon!

PS:  There’s a scary dude in a space suit at the top of my dashboard.  I believe I’ll be doing some serious ‘appearance’ editing very soon, once I return to my actual PC.

PPS:  For crying out loud.  I don’t even have a site title!