patreon page

Hey guys! So, as you might have noticed if you’ve seen the new item on my menu, I have a Patreon page.

What is Patreon?

For all of you who don’t know what Patreon is, it’s a platform for artists of all kinds to create their own pages where fans can donate money and potentially receive rewards, becoming “patrons.” Becoming a patron means you pledge a certain amount that you will give to that artist per month.

Do I have to donate to your Patreon page to read your writing?

Absolutely not! Although some point, years now in the future, when goldfishandthemicrophone.com has significantly grown in size (and I’m emotionally ready to take that on), I may introduce ads and/or subscriber fees to this website. However, in the forseeable future, you will always be able to read at least half of my writing online, for free.

How much does it cost to become a patron?

I have different teirs of patron-hood set up–for your convenience, here they are (as a screenshot) below.


Where can I become a patron?

By clicking on the word here, and selecting your membership tier. 🙂

october 21st, 2019

i don’t get it. i’m sorry. could you please just explain this to me again? i know i’m not always a good person.

it’s cold out, and i just want to turn back time to last year. when i was naive, and for a couple scattered, fleeting, days, everything was beautiful. but i can’t do that. so… here i am.

and maybe i was just a really lonely kid. maybe i clung to promises more than i should have, for the sole purpose of needing something to hold onto. but i still miss you.

and if you ever read this, i just want to say i’m sorry if i hurt you. if i did something wrong. and i’m not angry. i get it. i miss you, and i wish you were here, but i get it.  you’ve moved on. and it’s ok. you don’t need my permission to be whoever you want.

so i hope you’re happy. i hope you’re really happy. i hope you’re who you want to be.

and… thank you. for all the things you’ve given me.

I know this is based off something that happened in my life, but I’m not sure what exactly what it is anymore. Just some nostalgic/regretful memories in general I guess?

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pretending it’s a happy ending, or something like that (spoken word)

Been a while since I done one of these, and I think I’ve really gotten better over the summer in terms of spoken word, so… yeah. Here you go, and I hope you like this poem. The text can be read here.

Music is from patrickdearteaga.com

Dial tone is from https://www.fesliyanstudios.com/

Sound of phone hanging up is from https://www.fesliyanstudios.com/

None of them are mine, thank you so much to the creators for all the work you do, and be sure to check them out. 🙂

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pretending it’s a happy ending, or something like that

that feeling, after a therapy session, when for a couple hours, mental illness is just this vague little iceberg off in the distance. high heels and pop music and positive quotes and let’s just pretend nothing’s happened.

that feeling. slightly plastic. and you know it’s going to shatter, so just you wait for it. get black lipstick and waste your parents’ money and learn how to wear it, because maybe makeup can feel like normalcy. or something like that.

drown your thoughts in the flicker of the screen light for hours on end. because that’s easier than feeling anything at the moment.

today you saw the psychiatrist. you tried to pretend that mental illness was something pretty, or cute, because maybe that makes it easier to live with. and yeah, i admit it. i do that to myself. all the time, actually, to be honest.

and i know it seems like everything is going great on the outside. but when this is your life. when this monster is what you have to sleep beside… it just doesn’t feel that way, all right?

this isn’t a happy ending. i’m not okay. i’m not anywhere near okay. right now, it doesn’t even feel like i’m getting better. 

i don’t know who i am anymore.

Of late, numbness and burying my feelings, in general, have been… on my mind. I don’t know–of late, I’ve just been feeling really tired. I can get through the day, I can do everything I expect of myself, even maybe exceed those expectations some days. But once I’m done that to-do list? I just want to sleep. Or read, or hang out with friends–anything but being alone in my head. I don’t even know what I’m so scared of. It’s kind of ridiculous. But of late, I’ve just been feeling… really tired, of all of this. Not in a suicidal kind of way. Just in that kind of way where you wish you could make time stop, and you could close your eyes, and fall asleep, and just kind of… disappear for a while. Does that make sense?

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there are so many words for this, but most of them are angry. so i don’t know what to say.

so i close my eyes, and i tell you it’s ok. i tell you i love you, even though i question it some days.

and i want to go home, only i don’t really know where that is. i want to cross the finish line and feel something like pride but how the hell am i supposed to do this.

i want to be more than a prisoner in someone else’s story. i want to get better. i want to be all right. i want to get the fuck out of this tower.

but the tower is my head. and the witch is my head. and the prince is my head. and i am my head. and i am always so much my head.

and sometimes do you just wish that it could all just stop. stop. right here. in this moment. because why do i feel trapped, why do i feel broken, why is this all too much to process. just stop. stop right here.

it would be nice if i could breathe for a moment.

Ugh, I’ve been working on this for so long, so it feels good to finally shove it out there into the world. I’m still not entirely sure if I can put into words what it’s about, but it’s like 12:07 a.m. as I write this and I am beyond exhausted from editing all these poems and working on a heckton of other stuff, so yeah. I am not going to get into that now.

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please don’t leave me

tell me it isn’t over. tell me that you’re not already forgetting about me. because sometimes, i worry, honestly.

tell me this is different than it used to be. tell me friendship knows no boundaries, or just stay with me and watch kids tv and feel innocent, for the first time in centuries.

tell me i’m not making a mistake. tell me i have not misplaced my vulnerability.

tell me you’re not going to look me straight in the eye only to then start laughing at me. because oh dear, wasn’t she so silly to believe anyone would actually give a damn about her feelings.

tell me you’re not going to turn on me. like so many other people have turned on me. tell me i know the person i see in front of me.

i think you’re the first person i’ve ever fully trusted. and honestly, that scares me.

I’ve always been afraid of being left, I guess. In this poem, I wanted to try and explore and explain that fear to myself in a way that made, you know, some actual logical sense. I think that’s part of why writing helps me so much, in terms of dealing with my emotions. When you can make logical sense out of your feelings–well, it doesn’t fix them, but at least it assembles them in front of you into something you can imagine dealing with. That’s progress.

Find me on PatreonYouTubeInstagramWattpadTumblr, and on Twitter.