The inner sanctum

A glimpse into the inner sanctum of my creative place. This was before I moved things around and redecorate but you get an idea of my inner core.

I can’t focus

Motivation is gone
I feel empty, alone

I try to to things I enjoy but the follow through of motivation is waning.

I will browse online and pick fabric, for example to make my daughter a dress but when it arrives I just can’t seem to get myself to sit down and start working on it.

It’s not that I don’t want to.. because I really do but I just feel so empty and hallow. Like there’s invisible weights around my neck.

I’m exhausted all the time and in a mental fog but I got 9 hours of sleep last night. It’s strange not sure if I am disassociating again or not as one day bleeds into the next.

Even now thoughts are drifting back and forth….

I want a cup of tea,. My jaw hurts… Ugh ok I think I’m going to go back to sleep.

It’s so strange to get that validation that you so desperately crave.

When you have that, you still question if it’s real or just a construct to knowingly or subconscious. Either way it’s still a drain to take.

Trust is something that always has been hard for me. I want so desperately to have a connection any connection, that I have blindly given it only to be used and hurt in the end for a farce.

In society we have so much that we fake.

The digital personalies, the core, the mother, the friend, the sister, the drunk, the addict, the bipolar, the depressed, the manic, the anorexic, the proud, the stupid, these are all examples of personalites that I have been. Each one has levels and subsets.

Public and private life will splinter you just as each mask you wear takes a chunk of your soul.

Take, take, take

They withdraw on your soul bringing your personal balance down

You attempt in a desperate cycle that you are bound to to enrich your personal balance.

However in the end you still end up drained and alone. I guess the question is how do you really break free. How do you stop letting others define you and truly just be you.

That is the question I am searching for.

The inner adventure to find myself and remove the masks others have projected onto me, and I have agreed to wear unthinkingly.

No more
Break the silence
Break the habit
Break the control.

I wil do things for me amd me only.

Lost in translation

A face I hardly recognize anymore. Chronic pain and illness has changed it not just on the surface leaving redness, scaring, and discoloration, but the internal conflict as well.

Trying to find a balance.

Trying to accept that I am not who or what I once was. Aa cruel joke life has decided I should be host to.

Thoughts swirling….

Decadence on a plate

Raclette cheese melted over baby new potatoes with charcuterie and cornichons


I know it seems contradictory that I have this page inviting people to look in on my random thoughts and images and yet I have deleted my facebook account because I truly believe that facebook is a toxic ecosystem and facilitates and harbors , bullies, abusers, sociopaths narcissist etc to find and abuse their prey with ease.

What I put forth here is a glimpse into the yin and yang of my thoughts but it is not me it is a persona a mask that I choose to share. A tiny interpretation that I allow you to view. An invited intrusion not a right.

(work in progress)

Take the chalk from your pocket

Draw your sigil at her feet.

She sees all but says nothing, for she cannot,
They cut out her tounge with their words like razorblades against the throat.

Now she watches from behind heavy lashes.

Watching them go to and frow.

(work in progress)

Touching down like a storm
Reaching out she brings destruction.

She spins round and round till she’s dizzy falling down

Coming unglued like heel of her shoe
Broken and bruised she glides across the floor

Oh twister

She’s spinning around like a hurricane
in the dust she goes
in the dust she goes
around and round and round like a hurricane

ripping it all apart

ripping it all apart and she goes round again round again

Sleepy time

Sleepy head

Yes it looks silly, but I love my silk lined sleeping cap. Keeps my hair from getting all tangled amd frizzy when I sleep. Sometimes you just have to stop and giggle at yourself.

Bigger on the inside

If you didn’t already know I am an avid seamstress but also a Sci-Fi nerd at heart. These are some super cute and comfortable full booty coverage Doctor who knickers that I made for myself.

Exposé an original song By Moí

Listen to Exposé by aloneinabox on #SoundCloud

A while back, almost 9 years now, I was playing around with composing emotive piano music on my ipad. I was trying to figure out how to compose emotions with sound… It’s hard to explain but if you listen to the pieces it makes sense. I’m not sure why I stopped as I made a handful of very nices ones, this is one such item. It’s called exposé I would love to hear your comments on it.

Listen to Exposé by aloneinabox on #SoundCloud

Unscrew the wine, she’ll throw a party line
Stories extreme, she’s such a drama queen
Cries through the night, she choked on Marlboro Lites
Pure charm and grace, she hates her pretty face

Post modern sleeze lyrics

Trading on your super waif

You’re so loretta young silks, fashioning your self escape
You’re so loretta young silks, trading on your super waif
All style before content, using me as bait
You’re so loretta young silks, swapping your love for hate


So alone
Hiding tears
Painting the smile every day and yet under the surface she’s shredded and torn

Tired of the lies
The rejection

The void
Blackness swirling
Dark abyss
He’s just a black hole sucking her sparkle

Turning on the gaslight
Swallowing her up until she’s a shell unrecognizable of her formerself

Screaming fighting

Holding her hands to the flame to feel something anything

The story behind her eyes

Worn thin lost in a haze. Hazy shadow lingering around like a ghost.

Just a darksparkle orbiting in the sky.
A shell, a ghost lost in the machine along the data stream.

Another Girl lost.
Lost in translation.
Take the words from her mouth.

Twist and turn they’ve got her crawling on the ground.

She wants to break the surface and taste the air in her lungs.
Just like a phoenix rising from ashes she starts another day in a cycle bound by their tethers deep in her soul.

She’s just prey to the hunters and traders. Behind their scope her images they snap and steal.

Hidden away left to be cataloged and banked in their secret data vault.

Each time they take another bits of her soul, leaving her traded like currency.

She’s a sacrifice for the masses.
They’ve broken her down into tiny little bits of data.

Each time they take and she looses little bits of herself on the data stream.

Everyone wants their pound of flesh.
A feast for the masses.
They take their fill and discard the shell on the floor.

She’s just running on fumes.
Empty and alone just a ghost of her formerself lost in the machine.

Tattered and torn, crumpled like torn fabric
Fabric of the web straddling the abyss.

In the darkness she sits balancing her black & white hat crooked hat.
They’ve made sure to have her breathe the gaslight fumes.

She surrenders to the monkey pulling on her strings.
She’s got scissors in her coat.
She’s got to be careful not to run or she’ll get cut up.

Watch the blood fall down, as they take another slice to add to their database of her soul.

I’m amazed she still functions at all
Truly amazed she still feels anything at all.
She’s got Half a life left and no one to call friend.

Apple kit kat

Sucks that there’s only 10 in the package but OMG y’all they actually taste like biting in to a real apple.

Just a little wafu pasta for dinner

Pandora’s dragon

Still one of my favorite paintings that I made. I didn’t intend to paint a dragon.. but it simply morphed into being as I painted the swirl of colors before my eyes.

Spin spin, round and round.
Black magic in babes hands.

She looks out from under heavy lashes.

Lashes on skin, babes milky white powder covering the bruised exterior.

Whitewashed picket fence around the dilapidated exterior.

Hidden stories behind walls, crash into the chaos of terror and disconnection.

Disconnected from the world, intoxicationg liquid aroma from her skin.

Pull the off her wings she’s just the dragon fly.

Watch her try to break the surface of the water to take her first breath.

Don’t try and pin her down. She’s not your specimen.

Flutter off into to the sky, she’s flying like a caged bird who can’t sing.

Slipping from the world into the next. Let her fly away.

Don’t put her soul in your pipe and smoke it, she’ll burn you out from the inside.

Take the brush and paint over the picture.

I started this 3 years ago. Eventually it will be a queen-size bed topper. One row takes me 45 minutes to an hour to finish depending on how intensely I concentrate. When I feel over and my thoughts begin to ramble in the labyrinth of my mind I will pull this out and crochet until I feel grounded and relaxed, at which time I pack it back in my sewing purse. sure I could spend a month and finish it all at once..but then it wouldn’t be therapeutic. You see I don’t craft because I can, I craft because I need to take the existing and create something new.

Struggling, Trying to keep my head above the water. Feeling like the earth is being shoveled back over me as I lay on the ground.

Trying to keep the tears from spilling, piling down, stacking up and on top of one another; over and over like Alice in wonderland engulfing me.

I feel Lost and alone uncertain where my path is, trying to put one foot in front of the other but feeling like I’m on shaky ground. Wobbling too and fro straddling this world and the shadow world.

I don’t want to feel like this and yet I do. There’s no reason for it but here I am. Uncertain staring out from under heavy lashes. Floating soundlessly, wandering through the world.  It’s as if someone pulled off my wings, grounding me to this place. Lost in the labrnthe of my own mind

Another day, and I’m still alive. Breathing thinking evolving. Fighting the judge and jury in my head.