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@artofdrem-blog
Remember me? It's Drem.
Remember me? ItāsĀ Drem.
Hi,
Do any of my readers still exist? Does anyone remember me?
*waving*
I shut down my page because, well I donāt remember too many of the specifics. Perks of having a degenerative brain disease and chronic use of medical cannabis means itās easier to forget the bad whatever that is going on. On the other hand, itās easy to forget the good whatever, too.
Maybe Iāll come back ifā¦
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Ā ā¢
ā¢
Ā āAre the answers in the stars above us or in the fallen stardust?ā
-Drem 2016 (c)
ā¢
Drem, the trauma poet behind ArtOfDrem, has closed (not swiped) this site down for privacy concerns.
She may be paranoid.
She may finally be in reality.
ā¢
āThe world is often too loud. Bright and fuzzy and mean and gross and colorful, now.ā
-Drem 2016 (c)
ā¢
Itās been about a year of ups and downs that she has shared with you,
all the while being brutally to make it clearĀ You Are Not Alone.
Please continue to #WriteToHeal, friends.
ā¢
āYou are not alone in your feelings of hollowness or filled to the brim darkness.
And youāre not alone in you tears,
in your heavy heart,
in your shell absence of light and love,
or in your feelings of loneliness.
All along you havenāt been alone.
Iām reaching for you.
Iām real and so are you.
You arenāt alone.
You are not alone.
Iām hereā hold my hand.ā
-Drem 2016 (c)
ā¢
You may still find work published in ārelated postsā.
She didnāt delete what she had up.
Itās just now not linked anywhere on the homepage.
ā¢
Drem still has Dremās Instagram up and it will be updated. @_drem__
And, you can contact her through email:Ā [email protected]
Feel free to keep in touch!
ā¢
She is still working on her book(s) that this site was made of (RIP).
This may reopen in the future.
She doesnāt hate you. Things have just changed, for the better.
ā¢
āIn the confines of peace your mind will forever be free and your soul will forever be restful.ā
-Drem 2016 (c)
ā¢
Be in peace, friends.
Again, remember you are not alone.
x0x0
Drem
Ā PS
(First person now) I got a great job and am now pursuing a graduate degree while working on my book. So, things are working out for me after all.
I hope I made this goodbye as jam packed with hope, inspiration and love for youā¦ <3
Ā āIām in a town where the sun never goes down.
Ā Iām in a town where crumbling roofs water the grass carpets.Ā
Ā Iām in a town that has dreams which are
as wild and wistful as a handful of blown dandelions.
Ā Finally. I made it.ā
-Drem 2016 (c)
One last goodbye with lovingĀ words ā¢ ā¢ "Are the answers in the stars above us or in the fallen stardust?" -Drem 2016 (c)
why are you throwing water on a drowning person?
why are you throwing water on a drowningĀ person?
āDepression sucks. It can go suck my dick. And, why are you throwing water on a drowning person?ā -Drem
Waterfall. Found on Google Images.
Ā Speaking of that- Iām depressed atm and randomly some guy I knew like 5-6 years ago crossed my mind. I looked him up. Actually remembered his name. +10 for Drem. He didnāt age that great. I think he got hair plugs. He really needed those. He was in his lateā¦
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Iām Your Culture Shock , a poem by Drem
September 6, 2016
āIt took me awhile to figure out why Iām not invited to all your parties.
Iām really quite polite and dress conservatively.
But, I get it now as Iām smoking and drinking my coffee
at 7AM, again with no sleep.
Dark circles.
Circling thoughts.
No sleep.
Enlightenment.
I get it now.
Sipping my coffee.
ā¢
I ā donāt ā lie.
ā¢
I spit movement.
Iā¦
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Green blankets.
Baby blue bedroom.
I remember what I was like back then.
Fear in my own home.
Never feeling safe.
Back naked to the world.
Nails bitten to the bone.
Painted black over blood.
Never being able to sleep.
Writing on my arms.
Red dripping onto the page
forming abstract paintings.
So pretty.
I made things pretty.
Smearing over the fresh ink
of my poetry.
So trapped in me
inside aā¦
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The Least You Could Do, by Drem
The Least You Could Do, byĀ Drem
This is why I hate holidays.
The Least You Could Do, by Drem
September 5, 2016
Ā āI hide my scars.
I hide my burns
I hide in black.
I hide my black and blues.
ā¢
I hide the dark circles
under my eyes.
I hide my pills.
I hide my voice.
ā¢
Iām in the corner of your ugly expensive
recently renovated house
wearing a sweatshirt
in the middle of summer
eating burnt tofu dogs and black bean burgers.
ā¢
Tā¦
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Stop Fronting: We're Both In A Psych Ward Because We're Psychotic
Stop Fronting: Weāre Both In A Psych Ward Because WeāreĀ Psychotic
WeHeartIt.com
Every time I go to group (ew, group) or am in a hospital with other people who have mental illness (whatever scope of illness, whatever age range) there is often great comraderyĀ between us. Itās freeing. It relaxes the soul. Judgement free zone. Letās compare scars, k? <3
Ā Ā Ā Ā Setting: Common Room
I start with, āokay, what are you in for?ā
Guy: *does not reply*
Me:
āLook, we areā¦
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Play-Pretend (originally called Seeing Me), a poem by Drem
Originally written May 4, 2015
Rewritten Sept 1, 2016
Ā āInspired by
lookalikes.
My eyes hit.
So I talked to her,
made casual conversation
the best awkward-less way I could
about the highlights of my past
and my present
and who I think I am,
the kind of person I think I look like-
all about the person I pretend I am.
ā¢
Iām not trying to fool anyone.
Itās justā¦ I havenāt seen me in a long while.
Iāve kind of forgotten who I was like
before all the bad stuff happened.
Time goes by in a strange way
since that day the bad stuff happened.
Nowadays, linearly.
Now empty hands I have
I pretend are full.
ā¢
She talks to me
with meaning
about 3rd world causes
we canāt really do anything about.
She talks to me
and I have nothing to pay her with.
She thinks I look like someone
I used to be.
I say Iām not her.
She continues anyway.
I think she has missed the company.
The attention.
I donāt mind.
ā¢
I talked to him, someone else, this guy,
about who I was later.
And he talked to me
about where he is
in the grand span of things
and how big his heart is
and how messed up it is-
hurt and damaged from mean cheating girls that fucked him-
like I give a shit.
Heās too young to feel so broken.
And Iām too old to be talking to him.
ā¢
Iām a jaded 20-something
girl on chemo
with no time for his high school bullshit
or her thoughts of who I used to be.
Maybe Iām desensitized
by the nights after nights,
years and years,
of pills,
my poisons,
blades
and needles.
ā¢
Iām a jaded 20-something
who isnāt really nice.
A cold, unsympathetic someone
with no friends,
no love,
no past she can remember
and no money.Ā
ā¢
They donāt know I circle and circle.
The pain Iām in fills my orange bottles
with narcotics.
The pills to manage it gives me anxiety.
The pills for anxiety causes my depression.
The pills for the depression makes me float away.
Circle.
Circle.
Iām in the middle of a beautiful fractal
made of orange plastic safety-capped bottles.
And my hands and forearms
are covered with scars
from untrained nurses.
Nobody has seen me in days.
Actually seen me.
Neither of them notice these bruises.
ā¢
Proof iām a living, breathing shadow
of a ghost
that is only visible
if you squint really hard
and use pixie dust
and think happy things.
Otherwise Iām borderline invisible.
Proof.
ā¢
Sheās not my solution.
Heās not my solution.
I talk to them anyway.
Some company.
I donāt care who they are.
I donāt ask any questions.
You can be whoever you want to be, too.
I wonāt tell nobody.
Play make-believe
and Iāll believe what you want me to believe
if only for the moment
to make us both feel a connection
to the real busy world
we havenāt been a part of
in an awfully long while.ā
(C) 2016 Drem
Play Pretend, a poem byĀ Drem Play-Pretend (originally called Seeing Me), a poem by Drem Originally written May 4, 2015 Rewritten Sept 1, 2016ā¦
Sand In Cement, a poem by Drem
Sand In Cement, a poem byĀ Drem
āBlue sandā of the Maldives
So I canāt find the re-write of this anywhere which completely sucks because now I need to start from scratch.
Ā So here it is, Sand in Cement.
Sand in Cement, a poem by Drem.
Originally written Aug 11, 2015.
Rewritten Sept 1, 2016
āIām the grain of sand
that stuck and makes the cement
you walk on.
Iām the girl
whose ideas
are stuck in her head
because she knows theyā¦
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Let Us Write To Heal (Updated), by Drem
Let Us Write To Heal (Updated), byĀ Drem
SONY DSC
Original Write To Heal poem.
I am rewriting all of my work because I am working on a book. I felt it was important to share this re-write because its essence is the point to this blog and all of my current work.
Read aloud for impact.
Ā Let me know what you think.
Ā Write To Heal Statement, by Drem
December 10, 2015. Rewritten August 28, 2016
Ā āYou arenāt alone.
I hear you.
I hear you
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Full Swing in September
Full Swing inĀ September
Ā Just a little note-
Iāve been sorting things out. Traveling a bit. Working on my book with my editor.
Things should be back in full swing by early September. <3
No more scheduled posts!
Ā How long was I gone? A week or two? Hahaaa.
Ā xoxo
Drem
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Tied Up By My Invisible Illness, poem by Drem
Tied Up By My Invisible Illness, poem byĀ Drem
I canāt find where I published this poem. Iām putting everything into my Google Drive and canāt find where it was published on here. It should have because chronically, itās like this one is not here. 1, 2, 3, 4, 6. Where is 5!?!? This is 5.
Maybe I skipped it because I didnāt like it.
Ā Image from http://www.medscape.com
Tied Up By My Invisible Illness, poem by Drem
Originally written 2012.ā¦
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And Then You Saw Me, poem by Drem
And Then You Saw Me, poem byĀ Drem
Iām back to post this. This is based on an epic dream I had about me and Jesse Eisenberg. Weird fan girl dream? /shrug. It was more of, like, I was playing a role in a movie he was in.
Ā And Then You Saw Me, poem by Drem
August 13, 2016
āTalking benzoids, opiates and exes
and counting who ODed this week
under smoke
that smells funny.
We keep them rolling.
Through the haze I see you
and we talkā¦
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And Then You Saw Me, poem by Drem
And Then You Saw Me, poem byĀ Drem
Iām back to post this. This is based on an epic dream I had about me and Jesse Eisenberg. Weird fan girl dream? /shrug. It was more of, like, I was playing a role in a movie he was in.
Ā And Then You Saw Me, poem by Drem
August 13, 2016
āTalking benzoids, opiates and exes
and counting who ODed this week
under smoke
that smells funny.
We keep them rolling.
Through the haze I see you
and we talkā¦
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Glamour Shots RIP, quote byĀ Drem "All my shots look like Glamour shots. That's the whole point of Instagram filters." -Drem
Private School Girls, a quote byĀ Drem "All those years of Catholic school taught me nothing about religion but a fuckton on how to properly be a bitch on demand." -Drem
My Collection: Dream Melt by d'Errico
My Collection: Dream Melt byĀ dāErrico
This is a free-edition print of Dream Melt by Camilla dāErrico who is from CA and is a graphic artist, comic book illustrator and does whatever this is.
Out of everything of Camillaās art I have, this has stood up the longest. I actually still love this thing! I feel like the girl in the picture. Sad. Solemn. Hopeless. Crying tears of creativity. And tied up in herself (which is what I take theā¦
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