Hollywood Blvd. looks different than I remember. There are stars on the ground with names of people I don’t recognize, except for a few from my time. I read the one I am standing on, Pitbull. I wonder what this dog has done to be on a star. So much has changed.

I look around, everyone is staring at these rectangles in their hands that irradiate. They all seem so enamored by them. One person was nearly run over by a vehicle because he refused to look up. No one stops to say hello, no one makes eye contact or asks how you are doing. They just pass you by, and heaven forbid you smile at them and tell them to have a lovely day. They look at you like you are a martian who just landed from outer space speaking in an alien tongue. When did humanity become so robotic?

I agreed to be cryogenically frozen because I hoped for progress and change, yet, here I stand in the middle of a foreign Hollywood Blvd where all basic decency ceases to exist. Fifty plus years have passed and in some ways, the world seems to have regressed.

I was even told the President is an orange man who likes to grab women’s private areas, and children are being kept in cages. Quite frankly, I’m not sure how to feel about 2019 or about the future in general.

I walk dejected, wondering if I made the right decision when a man bumps into me and yells, “watch it!” I’m taken aback, but before I can apologize, two rather diverse looking women come to my aid.

“You watch it,” says the tall, beautiful African American woman. She is dressed in pants that stop well before her knees and a rather revealing blouse. I blush.

“Yeah, you bumped into her you jerk. Apologize,” interjects the hypnotizing, brown-eyed Spanish-looking woman dressed in a skin-tight dress that accentuates her hour-glass figure. There are names for women who dressed like this in my time, but I am too ashamed to utter the words.

The man scoffs and mutters, “damn feminists,” under his breath as he walks away.

“You okay?” asks the brown-eyed beauty. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you,” I respond in awe of the manner they spoke to a man. “I’m Madison,” says the African American woman, “and this is Rachelle.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” I say, “my name is Anne.”

“Nice to meet you, Anne. You look a little lost. Are you headed to a costume party somewhere or a character on the strip?” asks Madison. I furl my eyebrows until I realize they are pointing out my apparel. I did not get the opportunity to modernize my wardrobe and am still wearing my polka-dotted dress and black heels. I smile awkwardly.

“No actually, I was, um,” I pause in an attempt to form the words that explain my situation. “I am not from this time,” I say. The looks on their faces tell me that was not the right way to phrase it. “I apologize, I meant to say, I was cryogenically frozen in 1952 and just woke up in 2019.” Their faces begin to ease. “Oh, Dr. Greenberg’s experiment,” Madison says excitedly, "I was reading about that in my biology class at Standford. I’m shocked you made it without injury. You’ll have to tell us more about it.”

“Madison here is a huge nerd. She’s studying to be a biochemist,” teases Rachelle. Madison hits Rachelle in the arm with her elbow in a joking manner and says, “Says the soon to be Harvard graduate in psychotherapy.”

My eyes widen in awe. “You are able to go to college?” I ask. Their eyebrows furl in curiosity but quickly soften in understanding. “Women can do all sorts of things these days, including going to college,” says Madison.

“Oh?” I say, “I always wanted to study science but back then it was a rarity for women to attend college. My mother forced me to marry right after high school,” I say.

They raise their brows, “Married? where’s your husband?” Rachelle asks rather abruptly. Madison elbows her again and gives her a “you cannot just ask that” look.

“It is quite alright.” I say, “Yes, I was married. He died in an accident, just before I turned 35. Although I didn’t love him, with him and my parents gone, I felt there was nothing for me in 1952, which is why I agreed to be frozen. If I could not study science, I thought I could be a part of it.”

"Well," says Madison, "It's still not too late. Here, why don't you come with us, and we'll show you the ropes."

"Ropes?" I question.

"She means we'll help you get settled and teach you everything you need to know," Rachelle says.

"But first," Madison says pulling out her rectangular object, "let's take a selfie to commemorate this moment, shall we?"

"What is that object, and what is a selfie?" I ask. They giggle and ask me to smile as a flash goes off and captures our images. I look at it mesmerizingly. "Is this a modern camera then?" I ask.

"It's a camera, a phone, and a computer all in one," Madison says.

I blink profusely as my brain tries to adjust to this newfound information and technology.

Rachelle swings her hand over my shoulder and around my neck. "You have much to learn young Padawan."

"What is a Padawan?" I ask.

They laugh. "Just come on. First stop, shopping," Madison says.

Shopping. Finally, something I understand.

As we walk towards the shops, I wonder if perhaps I have misjudged 2019 and that there is more good than bad. If women can become scientists, I cannot wait to discover what else we can do.

Suddenly the future is not looking so dim.

the room is dark the

world is black in

shadows and in sin

the walls were small, confining

the world gave no room to

let grace in

But God.

rich in mercy.

gave light.

He gave love

so beautiful to the dark

so undeserving to the toneless walls

I stand a proof of

His illuminating grace, His

incandescent love

You are a light to

the world,

He said

Though mine may be

small

I stand firm in this love light

for one candle can

glow against every shadow of

a lightless room

one match can ignite the

inky walls from

a flicker to a blaze

and if i am a candle

i wish to burn my best

all at once

if i am a small candle

i hope my light touches

the curtains and

if i am a weak candle

i desire to go out in

a memorable explosion

if i am a candle short of

wick i hope to burn

it in proud shades of faith and

if i am an old candle melted to

my last light i hope to give my

little fire to Jesus

how many candles make a wildfire?

i remember those nights very clearly. the way the moon draped over her shoulders, the moonbeams braided into her highlights. the lingering scent of an Usher remix breaking up the frigid cold as her fingers entangled themselves in my hair, brushing a stray, oranged leaf out of the stressed grays. the blush still packed onto her button nose and the stars in her eyes as she caught me staring. the giggle when i turned away, her blush making rounds on my nonplussed cheeks as the pep in my step checkered the marathon in my heart. i remember those nights fondly.

When I was little, I believed everything. That is to say, I clung to the good things so the bad ones wouldn't hurt so much.

I believed in this gorgeous, sweet-smelling tooth fairy that collected only my teeth and built a castle out of them; she would brag to all the other tooth fairies about my great teeth.

I believed that there was nothing in the world that a sprinkly donut and some strawberry milk couldn't fix.

My cousin and I were best friends (still are), and I believed that nothing bad could ever happen to us. We had the most beautiful imaginations, and we never even needed toys to enter our imaginary world. I miss it.

I believed that my 100 stuffed animals had 'people hearts', so I told them stories, apologized for leaving the bed for school everyday, cried when they got torn or ripped, and gave them all kisses before bed.

I believed that the stars were made to hold people's secrets and hopes and dreams, and that they would release them right when you needed them back. I still tell my favorite star secrets, by habit.

Books were always my hiding place. I believed that they could protect me, take me away to a different world so I would never have to come back.

I believed that a vampire lived in my closet and waited til night to bite me. And I believed that darkness itself was a villain. I still sleep with the closet light on sometimes.

I believed that people were good, that I could take a walk and feel safe.

I believed that flowers had feelings. So I would pet them and whisper sweet things about what a great job they were doing at growing, and that they were beautiful just the way they were.

I thought that men only had mustaches if they had grandchildren...that way, children would always be able to find a grandpa if they needed help.

I believed everything that Disney movies said. Love made everything perfect.

I had an endless supply of invisible friends that were sweet and fun, the way I imagined that all real friends were.

My dad could do anything. He was the coolest, best person in the world to me.

I believed that my life was actually a movie with secret cameras, so I would pretend to be interesting and adventurous for the movie.

I had a plan in case I had to run away sometime, to get to Disneyland and live with the frogs on lilypads inside my favorite ride, Splash Mountain.

I never wanted a normal job, because I believed I would get tired of it fast. And I didn't want to get married or have kids because I wanted to be like Indiana Jones (still do).

I believed that being older would make everything better. I thought that older people had the most fun.

she said:

i must not have a heart

there must be emptiness where

it would be

because i feel nothing

i feel nothing for you anymore and i

wonder if i ever did

the thought of being heartless

breaks me more than hurting

you did

i am ashamed to confess

but it’s true, i know not

how to love

and i am fine the way i am

but when i think about what you

must think

it breaks me more

than breaking you ever did to

me

does that make me a villain

heartless and cold and

numb to feelings

i feel nothing for you

but sorrow, not for

what we lost

but for the emptiness

where love should be and

i play through my mind the words you must say

he said:

Gone are the days we spent together

as if your love for me faded away

Gone is the look you used to get in your eyes

only when you looked at me

We watched the sun melt like fire to snow

and I felt our souls collide like stars

It was beautiful

It was us

How can your eyes and mouth say one thing

but your heart and soul say another

Tell me, were they all the lies

The words of adoration that spilled from your writer’s lips

You said you loved the way the sky looked

when the sun was setting, the day was ending

Was our love just a day for you

that you think just ends and resets in a beautiful explosion

You always loved the way the sun seemed

to destroy itself, to wholly disappear and re-arise

Did you think that way about us

Was the heartbreak lovely like the bleeding colors of the sun

Am I just a tiny star in your universe of choices

because I don’t want to be such a far away star

the kind that has lost its glimmery flicker

I want to be your whole universe of suns and moons and stars

The sunset still reminds me of you

even though you have faded away like its colors

leaving my life, taking my love

But I still love the sunset

Kept in the dark so long

‘Protected’ from the truth,

But they could never save me from my fate.

From who I am.

From the invisible world around me.

My best friend lied to me.

My mother died for me?

And my father...

He would not take me in.

I had no one.

Til I woke to the sight of golden curls and steely eyes.

I know who I am.

I am power and I am hope.

I am prophecy foretold.

I am strong as riptides.

The last hopes of my world

I preserve or raze.

My life is not easy.

Unanswered questions and danger.

But I fight for peace.

For love.

For hope, hope of a beautiful future.

I want my mother back, blue batter and all.

I want a peaceful world, to have the chance to live my life again.

I want time...to grow old with my girl.

I want to be the hero I was destined to be.

Through storm or fire.

Whatever may come.

The Queen of the Forest, she rules the land.

The flowers, they bow beneath her silken feet.

The rain falls at her yearning command.

The berry-bearing bushes, they invite her to eat.

You may enter the forest, if you like.

But on entering, you may never leave.

Once you have made the perilous hike,

the forest's secret, you shall perceive.

The land is lawless without the Queen.

For she is the forest's precious jewel.

She speaks, and the forest sighs so serene.

For the Queen of the Forest has only one rule.

Protect the land and love it well.

Sing soft to the moondrunk fairies.

Kiss the rivers, the banks will swell.

Tend wisely to the poison berries.

Love the land and protect it well.

Let no harm cross it's timeless borders.

Beneath the Queen's amorous spell,

never stray from her golden orders.

The land is loveless without the Queen.

For she is the forest's mother and child.

The dewy leaves drink from her endless sheen.

For the Queen's only rule keeps the forest land wild.

To love and protect what is most dear.

Keep the forest away from all that is cruel.

What is precious and tender breathes in harmony here.

For the Queen of the Forest has only one rule.

B is for blue

like a rumbling raincloud

blue is for your glittering, lying eyes.

B is for beautiful

like the rolling ocean waves

beautiful is for your heartmelting, deceitful smile.

B is for bronze

like the ancient statues

bronze is for the wonderful, accursed ring on my finger.

B is for beige

like our creamy roses

beige is for the veil you lifted from my face and my life.

B is for black

like the starry night sky

black is for the mark you left on my cheek.

B is for broken

like shattered glass

broken is for me.

Writing can be such a therapy for some of us; to get out all the hurt and frustration. However, writing should also be for happiness and enjoyment...there are so many happy things to write about! I've got TONS of techniques for writing out the joy...here are five:

1. Listen to happy music! Music can completely change your mood and really lighten up the day. It also is great for writing inspiration. Listening to my happy music while writing always makes what I write come out joyful. (If you need music recommendations for happy music or any kind, let me know, and I'll give you my Spotify info.)

2. Write from two perspectives! When I'm having a tough time, I write out my frustrations and feelings. It's really important to keep in mind that what you KNOW always triumphs what you FEEL. With that being said, after I have written all my feelings on one page, I write everything I know (truth and positivity) on the next page. For me, it's like a conversation being played out... reminding myself of all the good things, speaking truth to myself so that I don't get so caught up in my own hurt, and ultimately choosing joy.

3. Read a story and re-write it your way! In the same way that some people make up happy scenarios before going to sleep, re-making a story to be what you want is really satisfying. This option never lets me down! I just pick a book off my shelves or a movie's plot and make all the things happen that I want to happen. Feeling like you have a sense of control over something can be really calming, and using someone else's characters saves you the time that you'd spend creating your own characters, plot, and scene. It's basically a writing prompt (or fanfic) on your favorite story/character.

4. Get to know yourself! There are millions of lists online of goofy and oddly detailed questions for people to ask their significant others/dates to get to know them. I've found that half of those questions are things I didn't even know about myself! (Sunsets or sunrises? If you were giving a TED talk, what would it be about? A rainy night drive or a spring morning walk? The forest or the beach? What animal would you be if you could be any? What's your second favorite movie? Etc.) And honestly, everyone loves to talk about themselves, let's just admit it. Those online questions can be really fun to answer; you might learn some things about yourself.

5. Write a letter! Though almost everything is online now when it comes to communication, receiving an actual letter is so fun. Maybe get yourself a penpal from a different country to write back and forth with. I can honestly say that making a new friend through letters is one of the best things ever. You get to look forward to checking the mail all the time, you learn about someone new, and you get to be creative and thoughtful. The most wonderful part about a penpal is the mystery. You don't know what they look like, sound like, what their home is like, or what their family is like. An even more adventurous way to write letters is to complete strangers; leave a letter in public for someone to pick up and read. Leave sweet letters in books at a library or bookstore. Leave notes on the counter to a barista. Write a letter to your neighbor and leave it at their door. Tie a letter to a balloon and let it fly away. Stick a note on a car's windshield. That kind of letter-writing will automatically brighten up your day and a stranger's.