@uthor@

@uthor@

Meet @UTHOR@MB

Author Aija Monique Butler, was born in San Diego California, in 1979. She currently resides in the San Francisco Bay area where she is a student of Medicine pursing a graduate degree in Healthcare Management. She is an Advocate and Philanthropist for non-profit program development in the areas of Youth and Social Service Development. She is a grant writer and holds an extensive background in Psychology and has a host of medical certifications. Aija has a love for the arts and is a writer of poetry both fiction and non-fiction novels and memoirs.

Aija Butler is the Author of the Fiction Mystery Suspense Drama, My Nemesis a book series, Non-Fiction Memoirs, “Life Honestly After, The Undeniable Truth,” and “The Rebirth of My Soul,” an intimidate look at her walk with illness, sharing her journey through recovery and independence. She is also the Poet/Songstress of the Poetic Experience, My Butterfly Effect, and Non-Fiction Poetic Memoirs, In the Mourning.

Latest works involve freelance article writing,and an album of musical and poetic memoirs. Aija also looks to put together her first script and plans to release three new books in the year 2012. Look out for this creative genious she is taking on the world of creative arts by storm.

Sunday, November 28, 2010

What's The Verdict, Life Honestly After

I’m dying and this time a doctor told me so . I see life a lot differently now. I don’t care for much arguing and if I disagree with the way others are acting and living their lives, I find it hard to comment. It could be at times be that I don’t care. Or is it possible that I feel that it may be best to live for the moment.

I feel like I am on trial. Its as if I witnessed a murder and I needed to come clean or they were going to kill me for it. I was the only witness. I was also the victim. I feel like I am locked in this dream, almost daily when the chest pain or migraines begin. I feel like the only way out is to surrender to my illness. My freedom is being ripped from under me. My dreams that I finally started to complete were stolen. It’s only a matter of time before I am crippled and bedridden.

The worries happen and my cup falls to the floor and breaks. I am past the brink of self destruction these days. I am angry with God even these days. I am sitting now sweating bullets. My stomach is sure to explode. There begins the rocking. I could kill with the cut of my eyes. I am telling myself constantly to calm down.

Everything will be okay. Then reality sits in and I realize that its just the opposite. This is real. A real life tragedy.

The Verdict is in. The jury takes their seats. I stand to face my judge and jury and offer a plea of mercy. “If I could simply retain my sanity in light of your findings. I would like to through my mercy unto the court. For with all that has taken place. I am lost. I am living a nightmare and I can’t seem to get out. The nights and days run together. I am weak and without water. I am falling prey to the ways of this world.

Inching slowly, bending and swaying before passing out on the courts floor, I beg for a new cup and a fresh glass of water. For my soul is thirsty. If I am to be whole again I must be replenished. No matter what I am faced with, there must a light at the end of this tunnel.

Fill my cup so that I may quench this thirst, so that I can at least stand and fight, for as long as the fight is in me.

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