The Mist of Time


Hey Everyone!!!

I still have a blog that I haven’t written yet.  It’s about friendship….Well, I’ll post links anyway. and

I do feel like writing a poem, but I won’t do that here.  I don’t feel like anyone gives a flying f as to what the f I write on here.  Everything I post seems to go ignored anyway.

I feel like that when I do die, no one will give a sh*t that I was even here…Except for one person.

“Remember me when I am gone away;

Gone far away into the silent land.”

It’s a quote from a British poet I’ve never heard of by the name of Christina Rosetti.  But I think it sounds fitting.

I feel as though the reason why I’m not heard is because I’m not meant to exist here.

Have you ever seen the movie the Butterfly Effect????  Where he can change the events, but every time he changes the events, he changes something drastically in the present he’s in.

Then at some point in the movie, a psychic tells him that he’s not supposed to exist…That’s me.  In the mist of time, something happened, and I was born during the wrong era.  I was born under a wrong sign.  I feel like I either belong in the past, or I should be born much later on in life.  It’s very strange to describe…I wonder if Beethoven ever felt that way?  Like he was composing beautiful music for all the wrong people.

I guess we’ll never know.  My heart doesn’t feel like rose petals, but just shattered, broken glass.

~~Diana Jillian (DJ)



I don’t know how
I thought that I wanted…
Now I look back
And think
What the f*ck was I thinking???

Too much
Too much
Just way too much!!!!

Peeling back the layers
Watching my existence
Slowly die
Rotting flesh
Getting older

It sucks

And yet
I still dare dream
Like a naive child
When will I learn?

When it gets to be
Too much

©Diana Jillian 9/25/14

Am I Remembered?


I am lost in the world of the unknown
I sigh as I keep looking in the rear view mirror
I keep on torturing myself, unbeknownst to me


It’s beyond me

I often wonder if those I had once left behind
Left them behind, I might say, for good reason
Do they ever even stop to think about me?

When a birthday passes by
Or a silly, subtle little reminder
Was I ever really on their minds?

Was I ever really a care?
In the lost pretend world of make-believe
As we now all know how Hollywood writers feel

Closeness of friends and family doesn’t exist like it does on TV
You are a forgotten thought, forever lost in a cobweb of memory
To only be thought of only when it’s convenient for them

Thank you for f-ing with my mind, Hollywood
And now I know why I no longer buy into your propaganda
You give a falsely sense of comfort, only to rip it away with reality


It’s beyond me.

Written 9/22/14 by ©Diana Jillian

The Taste of Fall

The following poem is inspired by the song Moonglow by Benny Goodman


THE TASTE OF FALL by ©Diana Jillian 9/21/14



Lifted up on a very good feeling
Picking is just right for the stealing
Leaves from green to red and gold

Kisses under the soft moonglow
Feeling that gentle breeze blow
The freshly feel of a new season

Picking fallen apples from the ground
Cornucopia of corn to pass all around
Used specifically to eat or decorate

All of the amazing colors landing into fall
Shades of reds and yellows to savor it all
You have not landed in the world of Oz

Light cool breeze that brushes your skin
The end of the heat as the cool sets in
Waiting and savoring for the taste of fall

I’m In The Wrong Line Of Work

Hey Everyone!!!


Epiphanies…..Sometimes you gotta love them, and other times, you wish you could wring their neck and tell it to shut up.

This is one epiphany I could have done without.

I mean sure, we all dream of being someone famous.  Okay, so not most of us do.  My son is perfectly happy with being an ordinary person, going to school, driving around, playing on Xbox and such.  So why did I have to be born such a weirdo?

No one else in my family dreams of making it big one day.  Everyone seems so content with staying at home, working, popping out kids, being….ORDINARY!!!!

So…Why me?

Since I was a child I dreamed of being a ballet dancer.  But I was too short.  I dreamed of having my own band….But my voice can hit key notes and while I’m not tone deaf, my voice itself is all wrong.  I don’t even sound right when I speak at all.

So I wanted to become an actress.  Do you see the theme I’m going with???  It’s all around the entertainment business.  WHY????

Was I freaking adopted and my mom had plastic surgery to look like me?

Was it something from a past life that I was….I do have a passion for silent films and I have a feeling I died sometime in the late 60’s…Yeah, I know…WEIRD!!!  Like I said before.

But I’m too fat to become an actress.  I choose….um, not so much healthy food and I can’t go longer than 20 minutes on a treadmill.

So I figure the one constant in my life is writing.  I’ve thought about being a song writer.  I have so many poems that can be songs.


I thought short-stories were the way to go.


Novels–oddly enough–are the way to go.  Let me tell you novel writing is no picnic.  You have to make sure you get your sh*t right…You have to fill in the blanks…Even–possibly especially–when writing sequels.  The audience needs that reminder from the previous books on who or what you’re talking about.

My first e-published story did become a novel….In three short stories all rolled into one.  And it’s weird because now that I published it through Amazon…And I can only afford myself as an editor…I have to trust that it’s good, and now I actually have somewhat of a sense on how to write a novel a bit better.

Maybe that’s how first tries are supposed to be?  *SHRUGS*

AHHHHHH!!!!  I’m a crazy woman, I tell ya….I’m so quirky that even if I were to go into acting, I would probably only audition for the bizarre roles.  I’d probably go for more of a TV role and something to where I wouldn’t have a close-up….And no nudity or even half nude scenes.  I don’t want to scare people for crying out loud.

Right now…I’m a housewife, a house mom, a caretaker for people and animals, and so acting is so out of my league–not to mention I’m old…er.  I’m older.  Yeah, let’s go with that.

So I’m older and fatter and a crazed housewife/caretaker with time enough to maybe…just maybe write.  And even my stories are so obscure that no one has bought my book.  Not that I really tried to advertize much.

Would you believe I’m a Communications major?  I have a college degree in Communications, and I completely suck at selling.  I’ll be even lucky if I get a like on this blog or if someone will actually read my crazy rambling rant.

I dream big sometimes.  I dream TOO big.  What the f was I thinking???? Seriously!!!!

OK, getting off the pity pot now.

Blessed Be…


Forgotten Dream

Hey There!!!

I’ve been meaning to keep track of blogging and my 100 Happy Days.  Some days are tougher than others to get around the computer to actually write or post something.  I know what you’re thinking…In the days of tablets and such, I should have no problem posting stuff.  Well, some days require more focus than other days.

In honor of Teddy Bear Day, which was yesterday….I posted a pic of a teddy bear I own.  Yesterday was day 5

This pic can be found on instagram….

You can follow me there at Follow Me on Instagram Click Here


I was strolling through my notebooks and I stumbled upon an old write from nine years ago!!!  Wow!  Where does the time go.

I don’t usually like to put my interpretations in there.  I like to let others draw their own conclusions.  Some relate to my writes in different ways than others.

Until Next Time…



Forgotten Dream
By ©Diana Jillian 5/23/05
Crying for something unreal
Don’t know what to feel
I’ll soon be transient
Some foolish visualization
My own realization
Confusing both my worlds
Of reality and dream
My nightmarish scream
Can’t keep breaking down
 I won’t be broken down