I am a monster, but behind this hatred lies a murderous desire for love.

Im not an artist and my creativity lacks so greatly that i am nothing more than recycled ideas. i am lunatic, and i chose writing to try and make the world make sense to me. hidden deep within run on sentences and cryptic forms of omission is the meaning of it all. everything that ever was, or ever will be. everything i write exists as pieces of a puzzle, only there is no answer... this isn't a professional blog. i'm sharing my thoughts and experiences with anyone who wants to listen to them.

Silver and transparent curtain

Act 1

Name tag with writing

"I could tell you my name, but would my name tell you that I'm incapable of seeing the color orange? I just have to trust people. Or that I think moustaches are T-shirts for lips? Or that I wear ice skates to weddings? It's hard to dance. But that's just the type of person I am." - MPDG of Independent Movie, American Dad

Hello. My name is Ali Larsen. It's actually Amanda Li Larsen. But I go by Ali because I personally like it. You may have known me as someone else. I've had many personas over the years. But, now I'm just me.

I used to hide behind those personas because I wasn't happy with who I was. They were a way to deal with the feelings I denied having, especially to myself. They were the masks I hid from the world behind. But the longer I kept that masks on, the less I recognized my own reflection. I realized I was being disingenuous to even myself, and, in the end, that's the only person I truly needed to be honest with.

After years of pretending I had it all together, I decided it was time to take those masks off. Step outside of the personas I was hiding behind, and step into who I really was. Finally, truly, be myself. The only problem was, I didn't know myself anymore. So, I attempted to re-connect with myself, only to find that there was nothing left to re-connect with. The very foundation I had once been built on had fallen apart. There was nothing left, not even a pebble. I had spent so long running from who I was that I never stopped to realize just how far away from her I actually was. I had been running for nothing, and worse, I had been running towards nothing either. I was just an emotionally insecure shell of a girl, simply looking for her place in the world. I became someone so scared of even myself that I couldn't handle living outside of the persona(s) I had created. I had become so addicted to lying that the truth became a blur, along with all the footprints of the past. Suddenly, I didn't identify with my experiences, my memories, myself - Because I wasn't. And my memories, my experiences, they weren't mine. They were created. I, was created. Like a Frankenstein monster, I had turned myself into pieces of other people all sewn together to look like they fit. But they never really did. How could they? The truth was, underneath the mask was someone even more disingenuous, even more unrecognizable. I learned, there is no scarier feeling than not being able to identify with yourself anymore.

"I'm not a concept. Too many guys think I'm a concept or I complete them or I'm going to make them alive, but I'm just a fucked up girl who is looking for my own peace of mind. Don't assign me yours." - Kate Winslet as Clementine Kruczynski, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

It was time to start over.

Sometimes the best way to fix something is to tear it down to nothing and start from scratch. That's exactly what I did. I unstitched those sewn-together pieces, pulling until my fingers bled, to make sure there wasn't a single one left. I took myself down to that hollow shell, and I left myself in a pile of broken pieces. But that's when the most amazing thing happened. Those pieces started to pull themselves back together, and what they were building was something I recognized. It was me.

Of course, life is a work in progress, so the story has no end. And, not all of the pieces pulled themselves back together. There are still some missing, and some that I no longer need. I've been handed pieces I didn't realize I had lost. I've learned things I never knew. But the point is, I connect more with the fragments I am now, barely holding together, than I have as anyone else in the past. That alone makes me happier than I've been in a long time.

So, I've promised myself not to hide anymore. I've promised I will do whatever it takes to truly be happy in my own skin. Even if it's not that pretty on the outside from years of abuse, it's mine. It's due time I let me be myself.

Act 2

Masks that represent the theatre in black and white

I've written many different biographies over the years. Each reflects the time of my life they were written in so perfectly. Be it how I was feeling, or present circumstance, but always a reflection of everything I was denying to myself, and to everyone else. This is in terms of influential people, or places I've lived, stuff like that. Granted, I didn't know the truth, as I've had touch-and-go amnesia for as long as I can remember. But to be honest, every biography written before this one was wrong. Who I thought I was, where I thought I'd go. All of it. I had no idea in the pasts where the futures would bring me. No one really can. We just leave at the train station in Point A, hoping there's still an arrival at Point B. Some of us never make it to Point B. Some of us never realize we got lost along the way.

“I'm the girl who is lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding farther and farther into the background. Just like the Cheshire cat, someday I will suddenly leave, but the artificial warmth of my smile, that phony, clownish curve, the kind you see on miserably sad people and villains in Disney movies, will remain behind as an ironic remnant. I am the girl you see in the photograph from some party someplace or some picnic in the park, the one who is in fact soon to be gone. When you look at the picture again, I want to assure you, I will no longer be there. I will be erased from history, like a traitor in the Soviet Union. Because with every day that goes by, I feel myself becoming more and more invisible...”  Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

I've learned, in my many years, in many lives, that we're all lost. We're all confused. And everyone is just looking for something to make them feel like they've got a good bead on things. Be that from a romance, or a friendship, or a pet, or a career, or hobbies and passions. I've learned that we all find ourselves in the dark corners of a dimly lit bar/cafe, with people who hate/love the things we hate/love. Or, people who are just there to bid the otherwise boring nothing of a life with no purpose. I've also learned that people don't really have a purpose. That it's not about what you have in the bank - money or experiences - even though in the past I was sure what we experienced accounted for everything in life. It doesn't build character to be rich, or to be worldly. We are all our experiences, yes. But not what they were. We are how those experiences affected us. How we dealt with the shortcomings, or how we appreciated the lotteries.

And everyone should be looking to constantly refine themselves. There shouldn't be a static "about me", because someone should always be changing who and what that is. Not by a predetermined list of "should be"s, because they're all outdated. There is no perfect someone. We're all fucked up. Embrace it, make it your own. All that matters is that you're happy with the way you are. That you're building a better you, by your own standards. Really, no one can judge your character except for you. No one can discredit, nor encourage, your experiences. Only you can. Only you can truly know what made you who you are today.

Act 3

Keyboard of a typewriter

I was born with the mind of a writer, so my personal relationships have always been strained. I prefer to live inside a fictional world of my own creation. Can you blame me?

I started writing when I was old enough to hold a pen and I never really put that pen down. I am pretty much married to my career, although I would get a divorce if I could. Being a writer is a curse that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. If I had never started writing... Well, there's no sense thinking about things that can't be changed. The "writer mentality" is embedded in the way I see the world. I have to write to stay sane because if I didn't get the words out, they would eat me alive. Ignoring my ideas is like ignoring a wild animal locked in a cage. The end result is a disaster either way, so, why postpone the outcome? I pick up my pen or sit down at my keyboard and I let that chaos take over, possessing every cell of my being.

Because of this, my writing isn't the easiest to follow along with. When you read something I've written, you're going to wish you chose the Handbook for the Recently Deceased. It would be easier to read and honestly, dying would be more worth your time. The fact is: I don't write for other people. I never did. I write for myself, for clarity & to maintain whatever fraction of my sanity I can. There aren't any revelations in my writing, but there are a lot of philosophies about life and how to live it.

"I know what it's like to want to die. How it hurts to smile. How you try to fit in but you can't. You hurt yourself on the outside to try to kill the thing on the inside. When you don't want to feel, death can seem like a dream. But seeing death, really seeing it, makes dreaming about it fucking ridiculous. Maybe, there's a moment growing up when something peels back. Maybe, maybe, we look for secrets because we can't believe our minds. All I know is that I began to feel things again. Whatever I was, I knew there was only one way back to the world and that was to use the place to talk. Declared healthy and sent back into the world. My final diagnosis: a recovered borderline. What that means, I still don't know. Was I ever crazy? Maybe. Or maybe life is. Crazy isn't being broken or swallowing a dark secret. It's you, or me, amplified." Suzanne Kaysen, Girl Interrupted

My main focus is writing about mental illness and struggling to live a productive life when you're suffering. I consider myself a philanthropist because I'm most passionate about helping people. With this goal in mind, there is also a blog section on this website. I don't want anyone thinking I have it "all together" or anything. I share my struggles and the lessons I've learned through the challenges I face.

My goal is to be 100% authentic in everything I do.

I know that everyone with open eyes is struggling to find meaning. But you know what? Meaning isn't something we can find; We have to make it. As Gerard Way wrote, "we only live forever in the lights we make." This, my writing, is my spotlight. My immortality. I'm sharing myself with you in the hopes that I can help you find your own spotlight.

I am not a life coach or a motivational speaker. Half the time I can't even motivate myself to get out of bed. I'm not trying to be a hero, either. I'm just a human being, and a shitty one at that.

Time to inspire on chalkboard

Take A Bow

I don't hope to have epiphanies, but I'm appreciative when it happens. And it happened while I was reading my old biographies. It occurred to me that no amount of re-wording what I had written before was ever going to describe me as a person. And really, I shouldn't- and won't - try. I mean, I can type out my life story for you. Everything I remember in anything but chronological order. I can hope to hit a chord with a well-worded sentence here and there. Maybe write something insightful, and descriptive about who I am, and how I came to be this way. But, you can never truly know what makes a person who they are. No matter how many stories they may tell you. So, no matter how many lives I may write out, you'll never get to know me through the words on a page.

I want to connect with you, and I want to learn who you are. And I want you to learn who I am, too. But let's do that together instead of trying to read an on-the-spot rough draft a life story that's never going to be written. I want to know how you handle situations by seeing you in them. I want to be a part of your experiences. Not to encourage, or discredit. Just experience. And I want you to be a part of mine, too. And that's the only way we're going to get to know each other, no matter how many words are written and read. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to tell you all my stories. And I'd love to hear all of yours. I connect best with people who retell their tales in a way similar to my own. When I hear my own heart in someone else's' stories, I know there's the potential to bond. I'd love to ask you questions about your life and to answer yours about mine.

But that's just filler between our first experience together and our next. Because that's when we'll bond the greatest. The strongest. That's when we'll get to know each other.

So you want my autobiography? You'll have to live it with me.

Please, make yourself at home!

Black and silver couch