the living daylights

out of bars

out of cars

they got kicked

(they got scars)

out of class

been harassed

off of trains

in the head out of bed in the dark

the living daylights extinguished

off and on like an electrical short

some say

they made hard living look

lissome

#katyamills

anarch.y

was gonna cross myself

take something wasn't mine

had the opportunity and 

let it be. before i awoke found

myself reading what i wrote on a stage

touching into the under

blue arm tattoo

dear anarchist dream self 

thank you for coming in 

line after 48 years all 

crosses

#katyamills

update

i got a promotion this week -- Clinical Director -- at tpcp.org... excited to make a greater impact for our community ... listening and speaking from the heart ... helping my team of outpatient case workers support our people out in South Natomas and North Highlands ... life is more and more challenging on the streets ... what with mental illness and socioeconomic challenges ... cultural/racial injustices. i ask myself every day: what more can i do to help? at least i have a small platform and some skills to offer. 8 years clean off the hard stuff. what with the poetry, the books, my friends, as a therapist, life keeps getting more and more exciting.

i stayed away

all the way back to ancient history, i mean my personal teenage daydream, i stayed away from the opportunities the crosswalks the celebrations the teachers the smiling faces. i could see them but i could not approach them. they were there waiting for me all those years but i harbored social anxiety and a strong feeling i did not deserve anything good in my life. so it was personal justice i exacted on myself, the better part of my twenties. then i hit the thirties and got a taste of freedom from my vices and moved to california. then the question of owning my identity arose. this would require courage and resolve. i could not conjure it up. i needed a plan and i got online and got with community and developed one.

i put together a career move that fit my strengths and values. i was working so hard full-time school and job with a serious commute two hours each way. i still hadn't put it all together, i mean, anxiety and depression and dysphoria were my lot. i had a few friends but mostly isolative. the pressures grew and i got heavy inside my head and i slipped up. you feel like all is lost. it can turn you against yourself. i was lucky to survive. i made it. i finally got it together. prayer and meditation. running and writing and self-publishing. finding my queer community. social work and therapy. giving and receiving. family. friends. owning all the narratives of my identity. reaching out to help others. dialing into my life again feels so great. i thank god.

indie author KatYa

indie author KatYa

I am an Independent, self-published with several books to my name. I do hope to become a ‘Hybrid’ author some day, and am currently seeking representation (of course I wouldn’t wanna lose my humanity or anything). I’m proud to say there are now close to 100 total reviews of my work on Goodreads and Amazon combined, averaging better than 4 out of 5 stars. I also blog daily and publish flash fiction and creative nonfiction on my website, which has over 150,000 pageviews to date. I started a storytelling project on my youtube channel, where I read my work and enjoy creating video books, reading and writing have always been close to my heart. I get a lot of my ideas while running along the American River, and ran my first marathon last year. Soon I will be running in the ‘Way Too Cool’, my first Ultramarathon on the trails in the American River Canyon and I cannot wait! I do have to slow down my superhero once in a while and morph into a social worker to pay the rent, and have been counseling indigent peoples with mental illness for over a decade. In case you fancy degrees, I have a BA in English from Northwestern U. and a MA in Counseling Psychology. I play guitar for my 3 cats in my spare time, and have lost many a boy and girlfriend over my screeching insolence. I also roast and drink a lot of coffee, what’s new? I love to walk around cool neighborhoods and loiter around sweet coffeehouses, too.

unauthorized autobiography

I am made up. I am made up of classic horror flix and criticism, behind the loving family. I am made of denim jeans and wrinkled dollar bills I try and iron with my fingers at the laundromat. I am made of blue-gray-green eyes and circles and ovals and triangles. I am made up of denial of certain harsh realities. When I embrace them, they are still wrapped in fantasy. My escape hatch is up through my head, where I sprout rare gardens reaching for the sun. I may be just starting when you are nearly done. My roots give up water to the moon and monsoon. I am a saline solution in a world full of problems. I have been known to border apathy to the east and sympathy to the west. My anxiety borders psychosis when I am not being true to myself. I am made of books and books are made of pages and pages are made of words and words are made of letters I transcribe in my heart out of blood. I can get by on French and butcher Spanish. The blood circulates all the way to my fingertips and comes out in English. I speak dead languages to bring us back to life. I would tell you more but I haven't been given permission.   xxx   KatYa

Book Review: 'Just Kids' by Patti Smith

Just Kids by Patti Smith
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

'Just Kids' was narrated in such an upfront, candid way. Conversational tone remains consistent throughout. Simple storytelling. This is our beloved American rocker. Talking to us. That alone carries a certain high voltage energy! Have you seen her live? I have. So it helps to know someone whose music you love, is telling you about themselves and giving you an interior window to their life and heartbeat. She really lets us in!

I was impressed (and not wholly suprised) by Patti Smith's ability to tell her story in a captivating way. I knew already she carried around a journal and wrote her young life down. Many of those journal entries are included in this book, plus photos, and deepens our experience of a young pre-celeb Patti Smith. The cross-pollination of musicians to writers occasionally comes off well. Nick Cave even wrote a pretty good book of fiction. In this case, I feel it comes off spectacularly. I was born in the 70's, so Patti was a legend already by the time I was teenager. I really like her music, but I feel I relate better to the musicians closer to my age who remind me of modern versions of her, like P.J. Harvey. An autobiography was just what my heart needed to get closer to Patti Smith by her personal reflections and recollections.

Now add to the mix some more source energy! Here we have a fresh perspective of NYC at the height of rock-n-roll. And from the vantage point of one of its fresh new stars! A vibrant setting indeed. And the cast of characters could not be more fascinating. Her empathic nature. The way she connected with others. Her humility. I am drawn to her because she keeps her ego in check. I have always been drawn to her, and now I know why. The chick is humble. She is conscious. She walks through life mostly unafraid, and definitely affected.

This book is worth reading. Patti Smith has had a helluva life. She walks us through the heartbeat of a killer scene in America! When maybe the culture was a little less jaded. We get inside her All-Stars and at street level. Thanks.   - K @ katyamills.com


View all my reviews

a nightmare. non-fiction

The nightmares came heavy last night, beneath the weight of blankets on a cold and dark night, all alone. In these dreams, the ones I loved would show up. They wanted to see me. They wanted to pick me up and take me away from a gnarly city scene; some great hall that was now a shadow of its former glory. Abandoned. I wanted to go with them, my sweets, but I was held back. I wrestled with this choice. Like usual, I could scarcely breathe. These neuroses! They always find me! I was trying to protect something from a thief. I wanted to leave a couple of bags of my belongings, but I was certain they were not safe. I was chiding a thief. I had a long winded speech to a gathering crowd of indigent peoples, on the nature of thievery. They were restless at first, not really listening, but as I expounded on the subject with such great force and mastery of the language, tired eyes arose to look. And listen. I was watching and listening to myself. I felt pride and animosity. A bittersweet occasion! By the end some were cheering. I had denounced a human being. All the while, the ones I had loved had given up waiting, and gone and left without me.