Arimay's profile

Arimay avatar
AGE: 35
LOC: Crescent City, CA
GEN: Female
LAST LOGIN: February 25

Profiles are hard for me to write, as I have a great deal of difficulty talking about myself beyond the aspects you see of me within my stories.  However, I will try, since I really ought to have something about myself on my profile. :)

I am a thirty-two year old mother of three young daughters, who has spent the majority of her life writing.  This tumultuous path began at a very young age as an escape from a dangerous and ugly world around me.

To expound on that final statement, without going into too much detail, I basically fell into the art of writing to withdraw from my disturbing circumstances involving bodily harm.  Along that same premise, I found myself drawn to books of all types.  I would read anything with pages, wheth…

(more)

Item Stats
Reviewer Stats
Items
Version 1
26 Reviews   12 Comments
There was dirt on my hands, cuts on my knees. He offered up a helping hand, or so I thought at least. He had a smile of silver, that could charm the meanest snake, And a playful twinkle in his eyes, that said he was safe. But beneath his thin facade, shadows of the truth ignited deep inside, To slither along the flickering smoke, and speak of evil and lies. I was but a child who knew nothing of horror, or of pain; Nothing of the darkness I had glimpsed lurking there that day. But I could feel...
Ratings & Rankings
Version 1
49 Reviews   8 Comments
I didn’t get much sleep today; I never do anyway. Nightmares playing in my head, Wake me with screams of dread. My reflection comes to me, drawn and pale, As the pain of the past gives a silent wail. A reminder of the woman that I am; My life beyond my door, a well-hidden sham. Of all the things I wish I could be, Of all the things I wish I could see. Wish as I will, wish as I might, I wish I was stronger in this fight. That traps me here everyday, Behind my door in every way. It’s fear; it n...
Ratings & Rankings
Reviews
Short Story / I, Euthanized
This was something to read, as confusing as it was amusing, but definitely a new take on how one can view, or not view, the world in which they exist. I am going to assume here that the "I" in this story is consumed by his or her need to write, and that beyond the room (cube/rectangle of gray tinged with black) housing the keyboard, and fingers and eyes (and sometimes hands and arms) it takes to operate said keyboard (the mind not discounted here), there is not much else, save for the occasio...
This was a beautiful piece! As I am not a good judge of poetry, I cannot point out the flaws in this piece, if there even are any, but I can tell you that it was genuine and touching. That being said, even a non-poet like myself could appreciate its wonder, without having to struggle to see what it is you are trying to convey. Well done! :) Take care!
Short Story / distortion
Wow. This was quite a thought provoking piece. Hopefully my interpretation of it will be somewhat on mark. I sense here that the woman in question is speaking of abuse, specifically sexual, for there were many references to her heart, and having given too much (of her heart) as a child and caring too little (about what happened to it). Also, there is the intimation of self-harm with both the face scrubbing and the cigarettes. I love the metaphorical use of the worms - a perfect creature to us...
Short Story / My Name was John
I notice that you often write about dying or death, which is always an interesting topic. I like how you take different points of view in regards to the topic. And, of course, I love your writing in general (at least what I have read so far). Your style, in particular, is very fluid - nice flow with vivid imagery. There were a few mistakes in this piece, but they are minor. So, on with the point and fix. All the mistakes are capitalized, so you can see the changes easily, and the "..." is use...
I can definitely identify with this piece, and am right there with you when it comes to being a survivor of childhood abuse that backlashes when you become an adult. As it did with you, it did with me. Being a victim at your own hands is one of the most difficult and stressful things to overcome. But, it can be done. :) Though I am no poster child for such recovery, I try to keep my mind clear, my heart true, and my body safe. The task itself though, can be very trying, and so many times, I h...
Favorites
ITEMS (2)

 

People