I Guess, I Dreamed. - Lyrics Sparks

I Guess, I Dreamed

I Guess, I Dreamed

"How the actual fuck are you a Mental Health Activist?"

"You're the most unstable yet you're the activist. You're so, lucky."

"What was that like? Seeing the shit you did?"

"Is literally all you do is play your guitars and write?"

Let me answer those questions for you ignorant bastards. Yes, I have actually been asked these questions, and told these statements, multiple times.

You're an activist by spreading awareness, in forms of marches, writing, music, love, art, etc.

Yes, I am very unstable. But, however, I am also incredibly good at pulling myself together. It isn't about me, it's about them.

Horrid, absolutely horrid and gut wrenching. I went through things at the age of eleven and twelve that I would never wish on anyone- however, I would not take it back. I'm glad it happened, for myself that is. It forced me to be open minded, and see the world and people in a light I would had never realized before. It took away my ignorance, no matter how blissful it may had been.

Well, I do play other instruments, not just guitar. But yes, a majority of my time is spent editing, writing, reading, writing music, poetry, novels, etc., as well as playing video games such as Elsword, Mabinogi, or Unturned with friends.

A lot of my writing, was horror, or it was personal, and gallant. I realize not a lot of people use gallant in their vocabulary anymore. It means showing bravery, of being brave, in the face of danger. It's as beautiful as the oceans I've seen, and the mountains I have literally climbed.

Hi, my name is Lyrics Sparks, I'm the author of Dark Secrets, as well as a musician, song writer, artist, feminist, and mental health activist. Also a dog mom of a 42 pound Sheepdog/Blue Tick Hound named Mikelea.

My favorite genre of music is rock and that can go from anything to classic to post hardcore or metal. My favorite band(s) are Flyleaf and of Mice & Men. My favorite author is P.C Cast/ Kiesten Cast, authors of the "House Of Night series", Lauren Kate, author of the "Fallen" series, and Kathleen Glasow, author of "Girl In Pieces". And Lacey Sturm ex lead singer of Flyleaf, with her book "The Reason: How I Discovered A Life Worth Living."

My favorite color is purple and a random fact about me is I have four piercings, two which are modified as stretched ears.

I don't like going into details about those days, years ago. It makes me sad. Hell, I just a birthday and I feel to old. I think about that little girl alone in her room, trying to teach herself guitar as well and try to love herself and try to figure out what this world needed.

I remember screaming a lot, and getting angry and breaking down and getting upset, and the anxiety attacks that would take over my body. I was short than. I'm 5"6 now which is still tall for my Thai/Oceanic/Polish ethnicity, and tall for being a girl, but back than, I can't even remember my height.

Scars.

I when I was fourteen, I took account for every single one I ever got. From animals, accidents, and self inflicted. I lost count at around 30 little blemishes and lines. I got new ones, too. All over my calf from when I slide across concrete right after I got back home for Thailand this summer of 2017. I'm not upset, I've learned to love all the parts of me, and the memories behind them.

And the ones from when I was eleven and twelve, I learn from instead.

I remembering being in 7th grade, and looking at my friend Briana in the bandroom office. We were practicing, and I remember looking at her. Dark black skin and stunning brown eyes is how I remember her now. Her soul was as beautiful as the outside. "Hey, Bri?" I asked her. "What's up Lizzy?" She asked, looking up at me, a clarinet reed in her mouth.

I looked down at my hands and feet. I was in all black, like I still am even now.

"Well," I whispered. "Recently I've, I don't know I never had feelings like this before, but recently, I've honestly wanted and have daydreamed about killing myself..."

I was twelve when I told her that. And her response was "Lizzy, don't worry. Everyone feels like that at this age."

I took her word for it but it never got better. Not intill I had to push myself to the edge to figure out how to fix myself.

I wrote. I had been writing since I was in fourth grade.

I wrote about a girl named Luna. Luna is now in Dark Secrets, my Horror novel. I remember writing about how she was always there for people, and had never put herself first. She was never selfish and if it was never to much, her response was yes.

I wrote songs, about a person that would always watch you, and love you, and have your back in life. I was nine, when I started writing music. I was thirteen, when I actually started performing. Twelve, when I wrote Remembrance. I just sat there one night, contemplating life. My shoulders hurt that night. All of me did.

I just kept thinking how the fuck do you fix this? The internet had just shown suicide prevention lines, but I felt like that was useless. I wanted actual answers.

I needed actual results. I needed something that was going to fucking work and wasn't going to put something foreign in my body.

And there, ladies and gentleman, is where my name Elizabeth was rarely ever used again. Even on birthday cards, friends address it to Lyrics Sparks. My nickname, and how I got it, is a long story Ill be happy to share some day.

But I loved. I loved people. I loved them so much and forgave with an open heart. I opened my mind, and forced myself to think older and wiser than I was at twelve. At thirteen, I could outsmart and was the voice of reason in adult conversations that made them look shameful. I ex boyfriend, use to tell me that rage against injustice was going to get me killed one day.

I'd rather die doing the right thing than live and not do a damn thing.

I screamed out against injustice. For every person, for every type, for ever skin tone, and every race and ethnicity.

It's so hard, to describe, the pain I went through without bringing myself to tears, or anyone else. But I never put any love into myself from that day- I gave it all away. I gave it to others in till I could recognize "I'm a person, too."

I began to write more, and spread awareness and show what unconditional love was instead of just talking about it. I proved that there is a little spark left in all of us, even in a broken lyric or stanza from the poetry I use to write.

Don't you see?

Life is about love. It's about forgiveness. It's not about being ignorant and selfish. It's about giving and returning and showing the up most passion and calling out the lies and the bullshit laid out by today's society. It's about breaking stigmas. Whether it's about my stretched ears, mental health issues, or style. Whether it's about my genre of writing, or the folk I play in my room and sing to my love.

So yes, I am a unstable, loud, caring, compassionate, musician, feminist ( Not feminazi ya'll ) Mental Health activist that looks amazing in ripped black skinny jeans and high heeled combat boots.

I have been to Hell more than a few times, I have lost people and over thought things due to my anxiety. I have a hard time describing my feelings because I feel selfish.

I am one of the loudest and most outspoken activist and musicians out there, and I sure as hell am damn proud of it. And I'll try my best to be your, activist as well. I was told I use to save lives with my words, that anyone could read them or hear my voice and just suddenly understand what I meant because unlike a lot of other people, I was there. I knew, what it meant.

And even now, years later, I still do. I still have that one scar left on my shoulder, but every year it fades more and more. It's my last one, and I can't wait for it to vanish.

Love yourself, and if you can't do that, love someone else, in till you can. Trust me. Don't listen to you can't love someone if you don't love yourself. It's a good rule of thumb, but in certain places and situations, it's not possible.

Throw your love, to someone else. You'll end up falling in love with yourself, too.

From Your Little Lyrics With Smokey Eyes