I don’t even know where to begin. I am torn between starting from the beginning and starting from where I am at right now. What is easier: the entire story, which may lead you to become biased, or the current situation, which would not include any backstory?

The past three months have been hectic and confusing.  But I think more than anything, these past three months have been silent.

On August 13th of this year, I lost my best friend unexpectedly. She was just gone. I spoke with her at 2:09am, then she left this earthly world around 3:00am. We still do not have any answers as to what the fuck happened. And that kills me every day. I think about her every second of every minute of every hour of every day.


It’s a new reality of mine— I’ve never lost anyone. And I made a post on here sometime last year about my biggest fear being losing someone I love. And I fucking love Allison Paige Bertozzi.

I refuse to refer to her in the past tense. I can’t. It’s not that referring to her in the past tense would make everything “more real.” It’s because I feel her all around me every second of every minute of every hour of every day. How can I refer to someone in the past tense if I continue to feel her presence?

I feel the loss of her and I feel the love of her. Hence the confusion and aching.

And the silence. Dear, god. I hear the silence. Oxymoronic— I know. But Alli would be the one to fill the silence. She would make small talk, which always lead to somebody telling an embarrassing story about themselves. Actually, it was usually me or her telling the embarrassing story. Her way of easing strangers into a flowing and captivating conversation is something I will forever aspire to do.



You refill her inhaler prescription the same day that you buy your pack of Newport 100s. You place new air fresheners in your car the same day you fill your ashtray with cig butts. You ask your doctor why she wheezes at night the same day you ask the cashier which fifth is on sale.

My Biggest Fear.

My Biggest Fear.

My biggest fear is losing someone I love.  I know, I know.  Is this not everyone’s fear?  But this is my biggest fear, because I have never experienced that gut-wrenching, soul-shattering type of loss.  I am turning twenty-four this year, and I have been fortunate enough to have all of my loved ones still in my life.  The most important person that I have lost was a man that I did not know personally.  My father’s father passed away unexpectedly when I was a freshman in high school.  He was the healthiest man I had ever met- he never experimented with drugs or alcohol.

His passing pained my heart- there is no denying that.  But I was crying because of my father’s loss, not because of my loss.

Is it disturbing that I wish the loss of my grandfather pained me more than it did?  Yes, I miss him dearly, but what I miss more than him is the fact that I never got to know him.  I knew him on the surface as my father’s father, but I did not know him as my grandfather.  Because he lived out of state, and because my grandfather was not in the picture as my father was growing up, I only saw and spoke with him a handful of times.

That experience scared me, because I realized that I was not ready to heal from the future passing of my maternal grandparents or my paternal grandmother.  Those three have been a constant in my life.  How could I ever recover from that type of loss?

I am constantly reminded that tomorrow is not promised through my grandparent’s losses.  They are getting older, and it is a scary time for everyone.  Their best friends and siblings are passing away, while my grandparents continue to age on this planet.  Seeing their pain, pains me.  And it scares me.  I am terrified to experience that kind of passing.

So that is why losing a loved one is my biggest fear.  I have never experienced the loss of a loved one that I knew well and loved unconditionally.

And that scares the shit out of me.

-Stella Thorn

Trivial Trivia.

Trivial Trivia.

I know that I am about seven posts too late, but I have decided to write a little bit about myself.  If you find this text irrelevant, continue on your merry way.  Personally, I enjoy finding out the trivial trivia about people.  It keeps things fresh and interesting.

I go by Stella Thorn, but that is not my real name.  The character in my first short story was named Stella Thorn, and I have used it as a pseudonym ever since.  It is a strong, feminine name.

I have an abundance of passion when it comes to people, animals, and life.  While a lot of my posts have (and will) be about how people annoy me, I promise that I love mankind.  I believe that in order to love something (or someone), you must be able to appreciate their strengths and weaknesses.  It is much easier to write about how something irritates you, rather than describing the wonderful emotions something evokes from you.

I began writing creatively after my childhood best friend expressed how liberating writing made her feel.  The first creative writing I wrote was a song about the first time I got drunk (I was thirteen).  I like to look back on it from time to time- it reminds me to stay true to my writing style, while showing me how much I have grown in regards to my writing and my self.

My childhood was relatively normal- nothing overly traumatic or overwhelmingly glorious.  I was raised by both of my biological parents, who continued to have three more children after me.  Yeah, you guessed it. I am the oldest.  It is an all right gig.  As well, my maternal grandma and papa were (and still are) an everyday part of my life.

I went to public school from Kindergarten to eighth grade.  During the middle of my eighth grade year, my brother (who was in sixth grade) and I were pulled from public school to begin homeschooling.  Starting in sixth grade, I begged my parents to homeschool me.  A lot of the children I interacted with through church were homeschooled, and they were constantly talking about how awesome it was.  Of course it was awesome.  They created their own schedule.  They got to expand on any subject they desired.  Their mother was their teacher.  They could finish their schoolwork before noon, allowing them the rest of the day to do whatever they damn well pleased.  And the best of all… They got to do school in their pajamas! How freaking awesome is that?

While I am so happy that my parents began to homeschool, it was under unfortunate circumstances.  Basically, kids are assholes in the sixth grade, and they made my brother’s life a living hell.  When my brother finally retaliated (a.k.a. kick their ass), my parents decided that we did not need to be subjected to the public school system any longer.  THANK, JESUS.  So we began homeschooling, and I regret nothing.

I graduated from university May of 2014.  It blows my mind to think that I have been a college graduate for almost a year now.  Like, what the hell have I accomplished?  Thank God I have the rest of my life to answer that question.  My university stands on a mountain top, and the towns that surround it are barely populated.  Growing up in the city, it was quite a change to become formally educated in the middle of nowhere.  However, I loved it, and it created an even stronger foundation for me to dig my toes into.

After obtaining my B.A. in Creative Writing, I moved back to Southern California and looked for a job.  I would love to say that I have started my career, but I have not.  I currently hold a job that does nothing to advance my career other than allowing me time to write on this blog.  So… I guess I am able to further myself through my current job.  Damn these twists and turns thrown at me.

That is really all that there is to my life.  I have an amazing family, reliable best friends (despite my post from yesterday), and a growing faith.

Ah, yes. My faith.  I am Christian.  I believe that God created everything your eyes capture, and I believe that Jesus, the Son of God, was sent to Earth and died on the cross to save me from eternal damnation.  I am not sorry if that offends you or irritates you.  However, I am sorry that you are unable to accept another’s world view.  I will not shove my faith down anyone’s throat through this blog.  Yes, from time to time I will post about my faith; and I hope that you can accept that.  I embrace everyone, and I hope that you are able to do the same.

– Stella Thorn

Only When It’s Convenient.

Only When It’s Convenient.

Only when it is convenient do you ask to hang out with me.  But when you text me that you are free, there are stipulations.  You can only be my friend from this time to this time.  You are not allowed to go passed this point in the city.  You are not to go to these places during our catching up period.  You have to answer your phone any time it rings or buzzes.  Because, you know… Heaven forbid the apocalypse is happening and he is unable to get a hold of you to warn you that you need to hurry your ass up and save him.

“Did your phone die?”

Bro, I am pretty sure that if her phone did in fact die, she would not be able to answer you with, “Ah, yes. I’m so sorry, hun.  My phone died- that’s why I’m not returning your thirteen text messages of humor(less) gifs.”

Who is this new, fragile woman trying to greet me with a smile she saves for her dearest friends?  What occurred during the one year that I went away for university that twisted her grasp of independence?  Where did my confident, accept-me-the-way-I-am sister disappear to?  When did my once beautifully pro-active best friend become tethered down?  How did my strong and resilient confidant become the type of woman to submit and shrink under the cascading testosterone of a man?  Why do I no longer recognize you?

The sad thing is, that you have lost a lot of your friends from pre-caveman, and he’s introduced you to all of the people he has pre-approved for your life together.  I apologize, but I am not the type of person to sit around until you can squeeze me into your schedule.  I know what it is like to live a completely booked life, barely allowing yourself time to catch your breath and train of thought.  And that’s not the type of life you live.  You live moment to moment based off of his needs.

You are confined to your four walls until it is time to drop him off or pick him up.  You are kept to his side, because he is unable to entertain himself for a mere hour or two.  Oh, I understand.  You cannot come enjoy a G.N.O., because the caveman does not have any friends to keep him company?  Honestly?  What kind of a life is that?  You are stuck at home, sitting next to him and bored, because he is either “working” on his “career,” or he is engrossed in some idiotic video game that leaves no time for you.  BUT, because he is having a night in, you must have a night in.  Whenever he decides to venture outside into the real world, that is when you are allowed a few more feet of slack on your leash.

Whenever he decides to venture outside into the real world, does the giant golden circle in the sky sting because you have lost all of your sunshine?

I was so happy and excited for my best friend when she told me of her new relationship.  It was her first relationship, ever, and she seemed to glow with excitement.  From what I knew of the caveman, he was a gentleman.  He had a good reputation within the community, and he had a supportive family.  However, the first time that I met him, I knew it was all a facade.  Controlling, manipulative, insecure, and possessive were the words that were floating around his head as he spoke to me.  From his tone, to his body language, to his diction- my intuition was telling me to hightail it out of there.  However, I pushed that nagging voice the the back of my mind, and proceeded to give the guy a chance.

Yeah, wrong move.

Just as I had scoped him out from the get-go, he knew that my bullshit radar was fully functioning.  I can count of one hand the number of times that I have had a conversation with this guy.  Mind you, he has been in my best friend’s life for three to four years now.  THREE TO FOUR YEARS, AND I CANNOT SAY THAT I HAVE HAD ANY TYPE OF A INTELLIGENT OR A COMPLETE CONVERSATION WITH HIM.  AND HE’S NOW MARRIED TO MY BEST FRIEND.  Trust me, that’s not for a lack of trying.  I smile, wave, make conversation with him, but he gives me one word answers then looks away.  I can tell the difference between awkwardness and the cold shoulder- and this caveman was giving me the cold shoulder.  Just thinking about this is getting me even more riled up than I already am.  There are four young women that I would go to the ends of the earth for, and she is one of them.  So the fact that my best friend is being played by this caveman… It pisses me off and breaks my heart.  She is completely oblivious to it.

For a minute, I thought that I was just jealous that she had found someone.  Maybe I was envious of the life that she was about to start with a man that she claimed to love and whom claimed to love her.  But that thought was brought to an abrupt halt when I spoke with other women and men who were close with her- pre-caveman era.  More than a dozen men and women spoke to me about how there were unsure about caveman and his controlling nature.  My best friend went from kicking ass and taking names to submitting like a timid puppy.  Many told my best friend that they felt caveman was controlling and possessive, but she became angry at them.  She would throw up a defensive wall and speak of caveman’s honor and loving nature.  Again, I should have seen this type of behavior from her as another sign that something was wrong with him.

Do not get me wrong, I love men.  I love women who fall in love with men.  I love watching a relationship blossom into something a screenwriter uses as inspiration.  A relationship that brings a swelling heart and a misting eye to an onlooker is something I aspire to have.  I do not hate men, so I am sorry if that is where you were hoping this post would take you.  No. I am not one of those individuals who despises men and glorifies women.  I know that men have their flaws, but women have their faults, too.  It takes two to tangle, people.

At the end of the day, I pray that my best friend finds happiness and joy.  I also pray that she allows others (other than caveman) to relish in her happiness and joy.  Being married does not mean that you cut off contact with the people who loved and supported you prior to your relationship (with caveman).  Being married means that you spread the unconditional love you have for each other with the men and women surrounding your marriage.

I just… I just wish that I could speak with my best friend as freely as I type this post.  I hope that my words make sense to whoever chooses to read, but maybe I am just blabbing for my own sanity.


Gunky to Punky to Drunky to ???

Please do not be alarmed by the title.

Gunky: ages 0-12
Punky: ages 12-19
Drunky: ages 19-22
???: ages 22- now

When I was at university, my dad randomly text me and asked if I remembered being called “Gunky” when I was younger. When I told him that I did, he replied with, “Haa. You went from cute little gunky, to high school punky, to college drunky.”

As a child, my face was constantly being cleaned of “gunk.” I had eye boogers (which my family calls maka piapia), snot, drool, and other deliciously slimey substances. While I grew to be able to clean my own gunk, I was doing just that. Still cleaning gunk from my face.  However, I like to thank the good Lord, because when puberty hit, the gunk finally disappeared.  My face cleared up, internally and externally.  Unfortunately, when the gunk went into hibernation, the punk stepped into the spotlight.

As puberty hits, we all know that hormones and emotions are new and weird.  And, like much of the human population, these new hormones and emotions sent me into an angsty, passive-aggressive, “I-hate-the-world” phase.  I began to roll my eyes, shrug my shoulders, and “ugh” every time my parents would speak to me.  Although I still loved my family dearly, the only emotions I expressed were irritation and exasperation.  Thankfully, the phase fizzled out.  While I felt accomplished for no longer acting like I hated the world, I only took a little step forward.  The punk in me dissolved while the college alcoholic in my fermented.

Ah, yes.  College.  The time of finding yourself through the rubble of your mistakes.  And, boy.  Did I have mistakes.  The detours I did take, did not lead me too far from my true self (which is ironic, because I’m not sure that I completely know who I am), but they created a sense of aspiration.  Years nineteen to twenty-two  are a bit of a blur, but from what I am told about those years, I had a hell of a time.  Again, ironically, I met some of the greatest people and formed the strongest friendships that I have to date during those alcohol-induced years.  Graduating May of 2014 was bitter-sweet.  Those all nighters of studying drifted away, while the all nights of job hunting fluttered in.

I do not have a title for this current phase of my life, hence the question marks.  But if my future is anything as exciting and unpredictable as my short twenty-three years on this planet, then I am more than ready to continue to evolve.

Three words that truly summarize my life are family, friends, and faith.  My family created the solid foundation that I stand on.  My friends encouraged me to step out of my shell and follow my passion.  And my faith continues to inspire me to become more than this flawed flesh.