A Journal Entry

Photo by Annie Spratt via Unsplash

Today, I learned the same areas in your brain that light up when your learning also light up when you’re grateful.

Or express gratitude.

Apparently, it’s more productive to do that than write about negative stuff.

Although, some of the most interesting things I’ve ever read seem to come from…

A Journal Entry

Photo by George Hoza via Unsplash

I am tired.

Bone-weary. I can feel it deep in my tissues and it aches when I move.

I am anxious often.

Anxiety rules my life. Fear is what I know, frustration drives me, and fatigue weighs me down.

It’s my fault. I made choices that put me here.


Prose by Ada J. Raven

Photo by Rayson Tan via Unsplash

My ceiling is blank as it’s ever been; white, textured, unmoving, cold…

It doesn’t bring joy. Only consistency.

Nothing moves or disturbs the blankness.

And then I hear a noise from outside;

someone shouting or a bird chirping.

My skin itches in agitation and I squeeze my eyes shut…


Prose by Ada J. Raven

photo by Devon Janse van Rensburg on Unsplash

I don’t know who to trust anymore.

People who once knew everything now seem blind and dumb to me.

They’re still watching shadows dancing on the walls.

I don’t know everything; I’m only half educated.

But my shackles were broken and I glanced outside…

Now I can’t unsee it.


A tale of conscious uncoupling.

Photo by pure julia on Unsplash

This may be one of the most painful posts I’ve had to write. But it’s important to get it out.

My relationship of 6.5 years ended on July 7th, 2021.

We were engaged for over half of that time, and this year we tried to move to the next level.

Prose by Ada J. Raven

TW: graphic self-harm imagery

Photo by Sarah Kilian on Unsplash

Let’s not talk about my highs and lows.

Not because they shouldn’t be spoken of,

but because the way you talk of them is painful to me.

I am doing the best I can with what I have right now,

and your words cut deeper than…

Is it my habit to underestimate myself before other people can?

Unedited essay by Ada J. Raven

Photo by Chela B. on Unsplash

I tune in and out of the audiobook playing through my headphones.

My bank account, still based in the U.S., is dwindling. It’s under 4 digits for the first time in months, and I can’t work yet to build it back up.

The first…

Ada J. Raven

Classical Singer & Amateur Prose Writer

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