Book Tour: The Kingdom (Berkeley Blackfriars #1) by J. M. Mabry

The Kingdom
Berkeley Blackfriars Book 1
by J. R. Mabry
Genre: Urban Fantasy
An unhinged tycoon.
A lodge of evil magicians.
A plan to steal every child from the face of the earth…
When Kat Webber discovers her brother’s comatose body in the midst of a
demonic ritual, she knew she was in over her head…
Fr. Richard Kinney is having a crappy week. He’s not at all sure he’s
the best leader for the demon-hunting Berkeley Blackfriars, and his
boyfriend has just broken up with him. But when a violent demon
possesses one of the richest men in the world, Richard doesn’t have
time for self-pity.
Kat and the Blackfriars discover their situations are entertwined—leading
them to a lodge of black magicians who make every avocado in the
world disappear. Their dark power growing, they eliminate every dog
from existence.
Kat and the Blackfriars find themselves in a desperate race against time
as the magicians try to eliminate their next target—every child on
earth. To save the world’s next generation, Kat and the Berkeley
Blackfriars will have to put themselves in the line of fire instead…
The Kingdom is the first book in the Berkeley Blackfriars series. If you love
supernatural suspense laced with humor and danger, you’ll love J.R.
Mabry’s Berkeley Blackfriars’ books. Fans of 
Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Preacher,
The Dresden Files, and the Mercy Thompson series will thrill to this new
paranormal fantasy adventure.
**Only .99 cents!**
J.R. Mabry roams the earth like the ghost of Jacob Marley, searching for
the perfect omelet pan. He writes thoughtful urban fantasy and
science fiction. When not haunting high-end cooking stores, he lives
with his wife and three dogs in Oakland, CA. He is allergic to
coffee, tea, and alcohol, and for this reason the hills resound with
his lamentation. He is also generally a cheery guy.

Check out the relaunch of The Kingdom, out now from Apocryphile Press. The
relaunched The Power will be out next month, followed by the all-new
The Glory—also known as the Berkeley Blackfriars series. The
Berkeley Blackfriars aren’t your ordinary priests—they curse like
longshoremen and aren’t above the occasional spliff or
one-night-stand. But if you’ve got a nasty demon on your ass,
they’re exactly the guys you want in your corner.
For a free short story in the Berkeley Blackfriars universe, download The
Demon Bunny of Ipswich.
For more on The Kingdom and the Berkeley
Blackfriars, visit J.R. Mabry’s website at
tk- excerpt

An Excerpt from


by J.R. Mabry

When the demon appeared, Randall Webber nearly jumped out of his skin. He was an experienced magickian, but the appearance of an infernal dignitary is never a commonplace event, and it shook him every time. He knew that if he stepped even momentarily outside the circle he had painstakingly burned onto his hardwood floor the demon would be at his throat, and in an instant would separate his soul from his body and devour it—or worse.

Webber mustered his courage and put on his best poker face. He was in control here, he told himself. He was the magickian. He called the shots. He commanded the hosts of Hell. He wiped the sweat from his forehead and upper lip and then put his hand in his back pocket to stop it from shaking.

The demon did not speak but appeared in the form of a dragon. It hovered as an image cast upon a small paper triangle about the size of Webber’s fist, set safely outside the circle on an end table. The dragon uncoiled its tail in slow motion, gold-flecked pupils staring straight into Webber’s own. Webber gulped and willed his voice not to waver as he spoke.

“Greetings, noble Articiphus, commander of many mighty hosts, Duke of Hell. I acknowledge thee and bid thee welcome. I command thee by the holy Tetragrammaton to assume thy human form and speak with me!”

So far, so good, Webber thought. He was still in one piece; the demon was still constrained within the folded paper triangle, and he thought he had just given a flawless performance of a man in command of himself. He fought the urge to run through his mental checklist to make sure he had not forgotten anything. One missing link and the whole house of cards would come tumbling down and he would be demon chow. He fought the urge. He had been careful, and if he had missed anything it was too late now to do anything about it. Right now, he needed to focus.

The triangle shimmered, and a regal-looking gentleman hovered in it dressed in ermine and satin. One half of his face was serene, the other horribly scarred. A diadem sat upon his head, and his face bore a resentful scowl. Nobody likes to be told what to do, Randall thought, least of all a man of power—or a being of power. “Hail, Articiphus, Duke of—”

The demon interrupted him impatiently. “Cut the shit, Magickian. What do you want?”

Randall’s eyes widened. He pushed a lock of long brown hair out of his eyes and consciously straightened his perpetually stooped shoulders. He was expecting the typical exchange of ritual pleasantries, a ping-pong volley of testy manners conducted in Elizabethan English, but he had never summoned this particular spirit before. This one, apparently, had no time—or patience—for small talk. Very well, Randall thought, let’s just cut to the chase. “Is it true, noble Duke, that you have the power to remove souls and put them in other bodies?”

Whether the demon’s voice was audible or whether it merely resonated in his mind, Randall couldn’t tell. It had an odd quality about it as if Randall were wearing headphones. There was no resonance in the room, so it was hard to tell. He dismissed the thought as irrelevant and willed himself once more to focus. The words were clear, regardless of their source. The big question had just been asked. And for a demon in a hurry to be rid of this pest of a human, Articiphus was certainly taking his time replying.

The demon’s eyes narrowed, and he looked like he was trying to stare past the magickian. Randall stole a glance behind him, but there was nothing. Out the window he could see drizzle swirling around a streetlamp, forming wispy ghosts that, he prayed, were neither conscious nor malevolent. In this business, however, one could never be sure.

Randall shifted nervously, noting that the meat of his thigh seemed to have gone numb. He slapped it with the flat of his hand. “What say you, noble Duke?” he called, with a note of impatience.

“I. Can.” The demon let the two words drop like ice. He squinted at the magickian. “You want to share a body with another soul.” He spoke it as a statement, but a raised eyebrow indicated that it was more of a question of clarification.

“No. I want to trade bodies.”

Randall saw the demon nodding, understanding. “Man or woman?” he asked.

“Neither one,” Randall said. He forced all the air he could into his lungs, expanding them as far as they would go given the acrid sting of the incense that hung as thick in the air of the apartment as the fog outside. “The being I want to swap bodies with is…not human.”

The demon opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, furrowing his brows instead.

“Oh yeah,” Randall added. “When I go, I need to take this with me.” And he held forth a purplish-green fruit.

“What are you going to do with an avocado?” asked the demon, now truly curious.

Suddenly, Webber was not nervous at all. He knew what he had to do, and he knew he had the means at hand to do it. He didn’t answer the demon but only smiled.


Follow the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!




As I have promised before, I will be running a giveaway! Thank you guys because if not for you, my blog would just be another website!

To celebrate my bookstagram almost hitting 500, my wordpress blog hitting 200 followers and my twitter hitting 200 followers, here is a giveaway for you guys!

There will be 2 winners and the prizes are a book, a note from me and a set of Disney mini post-it bookmarks!

Just follow the giveaway instructions in the link down below!

a Rafflecopter giveaway


The giveaway will run from today until the 28th February 2018 and is International!

Book Tour: SINthetic (The New Lyons Sequence #1) by J.T. Nicholas

The New Lyons Sequence #1
by J.T. Nicholas
Genre: Science Fiction – Cyberpunk Noir
Pub Date: 1/23/2018
The Artificial Evolution
They look like us. Act like us. But
they are not human. Created to perform the menial tasks real humans
detest, Synths were designed with only a basic intelligence and
minimal emotional response. It stands to reason that they have no
rights. Like any technology, they are designed for human convenience.
In the city of New Lyons, Detective
Jason Campbell is investigating a vicious crime: a female body found
mutilated and left in the streets. Once the victim is identified as a
Synth, the crime is designated no more than the destruction of
property, and Campbell is pulled from the case.
But when a mysterious stranger
approaches Campbell and asks him to continue his investigation in
secret, Campbell is dragged into a dark world of unimaginable
corruption. One that leaves him questioning the true nature of
And what he discovers is only the beginning . . .
J.T. Nicholas was born in
Lexington, Virginia, though within six months he moved (or was moved,
rather) to Stuttgart, Germany. Thus began the long journey of the
military brat, hopping from state to state and country to country
until, at present, he has accumulated nearly thirty relocations. This
experience taught him that, regardless of where one found oneself,
people were largely the same. When not writing, Nick spends his time
practicing a variety of martial arts, playing games (video, tabletop,
and otherwise), and reading everything he can get his hands on. Nick
currently resides in Louisville, Kentucky, with his wife, a pair of
indifferent cats, a neurotic Papillion, and an Australian Shepherd
who (rightly) believes he is in charge of the day-to-day affairs.
sin- excerpt.png

Chapter 1

The neon signs glowed sullenly, sending sickly tendrils of light slithering down the rain-soaked streets like so many diseased serpents. Once bright and inviting, the reds and blues and greens had dimmed and paled, sloughed off the flush of health, and left behind a spreading stain of false illumination that heralded nothing but sickness and decay. The signs themselves, flickering and buzzing, wheezing like something that wanted to die, something that should have died long ago, offered up a thousand different sins, unflinching in the frank descriptions of the acts taking place within the walls that they adorned.

I stared at those signs, indistinct and hazy beneath the mantle of falling rain. The mist softened their lurid offers, restoring, however imperfectly, an innocence the city lost long ago. As the gentle caress of a silken veil added mystery to the sweeping curves of the female form, hinting at secrets far more tantalizing than the revealed flesh beneath, the cloak of rainfall shrouded the city’s darker side, softening its edges and lending it an air that approached civility.

Approached civility, but did not—could not—achieve it.

With a sigh, I turned my eyes away from the cityscape, and dropped them to the pavement beneath my feet. To the body that rested there, or what was left of it.

After nearly ten years on the job, I still had to fight down the bile threatening to crawl its way up my esophagus and force its insistent path between my teeth. The body—so much easier to think of it as “the body” and not “the woman”—lay flat on its back, arms stretched out above its head and crossed at the wrists, legs spread akimbo. No clothing. Nor could I see any discarded garments in the immediate area. The pose, purposeful and meticulous in its own horrifying way, was a parody of passion. It was a pose that was likely even now being played out in many, perhaps most, of the establishments adorned with the gasping neon signs.

With one very notable difference.

Vestiges of beauty clung to the woman, holding desperately to a youthful vivacity that was losing an inexorable battle to the unnatural slackness of death. Makeup adorned that face, hiding the pallor beneath blush and eyeliner, lipstick and shadow, only now beginning to fade and run beneath the unrelenting assault of a thousand raindrops. Her features were symmetrical, regular, past the awkwardness of youth, but not yet touched by the wrinkles or worry lines that would fell all of us in time.

I forced myself to look past her face, past the strong lines of her outstretched arms, sweeping past her bared breasts and to the…emptiness…that extended beneath her sternum.

From her lowest ribs to the tops of her thighs, the woman had been…

I realized I didn’t have a word for what had been done to her. The words that stormed through my mind—savaged, brutalized, tortured—leaving a teeth-gnashing anger in their wake and making my stomach twist itself into a Stygian knot, were almost certainly true, but they did not describe what lay before me.


The word floated up from somewhere in my subconscious, bringing with it memories of carving into pumpkins and scooping out the seeds and ropey innards with big plastic spoons made slick and awkward from the pulpy mess.

I clamped my teeth so hard that a lance of pain shot along my sinus cavities, but it kept me—if only just—from vomiting.


The skin and muscle had been removed from the woman’s stomach and groin. The organs that should have been present—stomach, intestines, kidneys, everything south of the lungs—were gone. The tissue beneath them, the muscles along the spine, back, and buttocks remained, exposed to the air and rain. I could just make out pinkish gray tissue poking from beneath the ribs, so I guessed the lungs, and probably the heart, were intact and in place.

There was no blood.

The steady rain had formed a small pool in the resulting cavity, taking on a cast more black than red in the dimness of the night. No more blood on the body. No more blood at the scene.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God.”

The heartfelt exhalation came from behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder, tearing my eyes from the horror before me. The uniforms had finished cordoning off the area, spreading the yellow tape in a rough perimeter maybe twenty yards in diameter. Even on a night like this, in a neighborhood like this, a crowd had gathered, a few dozen people pressed up against the tape as if it were the glass wall at an aquarium, desperate to peer into the darkness and see the wonders and horrors within. All of them pointed screens in my direction or stared with the strange motionless intensity of someone wearing a recording lens. I prayed that the darkness, rain, and distance would cloud their electronic eyes, and grant the woman what little privacy and modesty were left to her.

Halfway between me and the tape stood a small, trim man in his late forties. A fuzz of iron-gray hair sprouted from his head like a fungus, and a pencil-thin beard traced the line of his jaw. He wore blue coveralls, stenciled with the words “Medical Examiner” in gold thread. Dr. Clarence Fitzpatrick had been medical examiner in New Lyons for longer than I’d been a cop. We had worked some gruesome homicides, scenes far messier, at least in terms of scattered gore, than what lay before us. But nothing quite so damn eerie.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “What can you tell me?”

He made his way to the body and knelt by it, blue-gloved hands extended over it as if trying to divine information from the ether. “Liver temp is out of the question,” he said. There was no humor in his voice, no attempt to make light of the nature of the remains; he was simply stating the facts of the case before him, retreating behind cold professionalism. It was something you learned quick on the job. Those who could not put a wall between the atrocities and their own souls never lasted long.

He touched the flesh of the woman’s arm, pressing against it, feeling the elasticity. “No rigor mortis, which means that death was either very recent or she’s been gone awhile.”

He panned a flashlight across the body, the pale flesh luminescing under the harsh white light. “No discoloration of the remaining tissue. The damage sustained to the torso is sufficient to cause death, but there is no way to tell in situ if that occurred before or after she expired. Though if it had been done here, we would certainly be seeing a lot more blood, even with the rain.” He spoke in short, clipped bursts, keeping the medical jargon to a minimum, for my benefit no doubt.

His hands moved to the woman’s head, peeling back the eyelids. “Cloudy. Most likely, she was killed more than twelve, but less than forty-eight hours ago. Apart from the obvious evisceration, there is no readily identifiable cause of death.” He cupped the woman’s face in his hands, twisting it gently to the side, continuing his field examination. He brushed back the dark locks of her hair, revealing the back of her neck. A deep sigh, a sound of relief, not regret, escaped him. “Thank God,” he said.

I stared down at the woman, not really seeing what the doctor saw, but I knew what would be there. Only one thing could have drawn that reaction from Fitzpatrick. A raised pattern of flesh, roughly the size of an old postage stamp, darker than the surrounding skin and looking for all the world like an antiquated bar code. The tissue would be reminiscent of ritualistic scarring, but, unlike the woman herself, would not have known the touch of violence. It could be called a birthmark, but “birth” was not a word applied to the lab-grown people that were, collectively, known as synthetics. They bore other names, of course, dozens of them, all derogatory, all aimed at dehumanizing them further, at driving home the point that, though they might look and act and feel like us, they were not humans.

Dr. Fitzpatrick was not immune to that dehumanization. “Thank God,” he said again. “She’s a mule.”

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Book review: The Royal We by Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan (Did not finish)

“I look like I hate Cinderella, yet now, to the world, I am Cinderella.”


Title: The Royal We

Author: Heather Cocks and Jessica Morgan

Format: Hardcover

Genre: Adult, Romance, Contemporary, Chick Lit

Rating: Did not finish

[Synopsis] (Taken from goodreads) 

American Rebecca Porter was never one for fairy tales. Her twin sister, Lacey, has always been the romantic who fantasized about glamour and royalty, fame and fortune. Yet it’s Bex who seeks adventure at Oxford and finds herself living down the hall from Prince Nicholas, Great Britain’s future king. And when Bex can’t resist falling for Nick, the person behind the prince, it propels her into a world she did not expect to inhabit, under a spotlight she is not prepared to face.

Dating Nick immerses Bex in ritzy society, dazzling ski trips, and dinners at Kensington Palace with him and his charming, troublesome brother, Freddie. But the relationship also comes with unimaginable baggage: hysterical tabloids, Nick’s sparkling and far more suitable ex-girlfriends, and a royal family whose private life is much thornier and more tragic than anyone on the outside knows. The pressures are almost too much to bear, as Bex struggles to reconcile the man she loves with the monarch he’s fated to become.

Which is how she gets into trouble.

Now, on the eve of the wedding of the century, Bex is faced with whether everything she’s sacrificed for love-her career, her home, her family, maybe even herself-will have been for nothing.


(DISCLAIMER: This review is based on my opinion only and may contain coarse language)

Bex meets Nick when she attends Oxford, she falls for him and suddenly she is thrust into the spotlight.

I felt that this book was like reading a diary, very casual yet sophisticated. I really liked the story, the only reason why I did not finish it was because I was really daunted by the thick 400 pages ;( I stopped reading at page 143

Have you read this book? What are your thoughts and opinions? Leave a comment down below! 🙂

Movie Review: Coco (2017) (5 stars)

“Seize your moment.”

Title: Coco (2017)

Director: Lee Unkrich

Runtime: 109 minutes

Genre: Comedy, Family, Animation, Fantasy


Despite his family’s generations-old ban on music, young Miguel dreams of becoming an accomplished musician like his idol Ernesto de la Cruz. Desperate to prove his talent, Miguel finds himself in the stunning and colorful Land of the Dead. After meeting a charming trickster named Héctor, the two new friends embark on an extraordinary journey to unlock the real story behind Miguel’s family history.

Rating: 5/5 stars

  • Remember me is the most iconic and meaningful song in the film! The meaning behind it will bring you to tears!



The warm lighting throughout the story was great and the film was so wonderfully coloured.

I really loved the music choice throughout the film, they kept the main Mexican vibe but the songs really helped to build up the film further.


Miguel’s family hates music and they make shoes, but Miguel wants to play the guitar and his idol is Ernesto de la Cruz. When his desperation turns intense, Miguel is thrust into the Land of the Dead and he needs to gain his family’s blessing to return. With the help of Héctor, they venture off on a journey on forgiveness and acceptance.


Okay, the animated banners that introduced the story’s background at the start was a genius and awesome idea! I also felt that the train station in the Land of the Dead had a real resemblance to the movie Hugo!

The comedy was really well timed and the plot twists were really REALLY good. The story development was really well planned out and the movie was intimate yet loud.

Coco is heartwarming and emotional, a definite recommendation to fans of Disney and music.

Have you watched this movie? What did you think? Let me know in the comments below!

Book review: Serenade (The Nightmusic Trilogy #1) by Heather McKenzie (3 stars)

“You need to be more careful, you’re all I’ve got.”


Title: Serenade (The Nightmusic Trilogy)

Author: Heather McKenzie

Format: Paperback

Genre: YA, Romance

Rating: 3 stars

[Synopsis] (Taken from goodreads) 

Kidnapped and held hostage in the Rockies, a teenage heiress falls for her abductor while her corrupt father and devoted bodyguard fight to get her back. The discovery of true love and dark family secrets turns deadly in this epic coming of age adventure.

Kaya Lowen dreams of living like a normal eighteen-year old, but being heiress to a billion-dollar company has put her life in constant danger. Fiercely guarded by her powerful and corrupt father, she develops close bonds with those who protect her, especially Oliver a bodyguard who has proven his devotion to her time and again. He wins her heart – until a chance encounter with a mysterious stranger has her questioning everything she believes in.

Haunted by true love and reeling from a guilty conscience, Kaya’s world unravels when she’s kidnapped. Held captive in a rugged wilderness fraught with raging storms, mystical caves and deadly predators, Kaya’s father scours the forest and her bodyguard fights to get her back. But, the discovery of a dark family secret makes Kaya wonder if staying in the arms of her blue-eyed abductor, a captivating stranger with dark secrets of his own, is a safer place to be. At least, that’s what her heart is telling her, her head is saying run…

An epic adventure centered on a smoldering love-triangle, Serenade sings a timeless tale of courage, self-discovery, and life-or-death love that will leave you breathless.


(DISCLAIMER: This review is based on my opinion only and may contain coarse language)

Reading Serenade was like exploring a cave with a stranger, thrilling and exciting.

Kaya is a rich heiress, her father coops her up at home, she only has the company of her maids, male nanny; Stephan and bodyguard; Oliver.

Good Lord, Henry is so sick and evil. The plot twist was unexpected.

Unfortunately, I didn’t like the characters though, but I was glad for the ending. The story progression was good and the story was okay. I wasn’t interested in continuing the series.

Have you read this book? What are your thoughts and opinions? Leave a comment down below! 🙂

Anxiety and how it kills.

People who don’t understand anxiety will never understand how it’s like.

Having grown up in an asian family and country, speaking or even mentioning about mental illness is like calling upon Satan and inviting him into your house.

And yet people think that everyone with mental illness is crazy and is immediately stigmatised within the society. People tell us umpteen times that it’s all in our heads and we should get over it.

At the same time, society and parents place unrealistic expectations onto us and expect us to fulfil them.

They don’t see how much our hands shake when in public or when you’re having an attack. They don’t know how fast your heart races and how your thoughts spiral out of control. Like a hurricane that blows and shakes up your entire mental and physical state and then leaves you alone to clean up the mess every single time.

People don’t understand that mental illness is not being crazy nor is it not being good enough for society, it’s a burden we have to carry around everyday, it’s an ILLNESS. If it wasn’t, don’t you think it would have been named something different instead?

“Tell me you love me, I need someone on days like this I do.” – Tell me you love me, Demi Lovato.

This quote is so literal, everyone needs someone to tell them that they love them, that they deserve to survive and be here. For those with mental illness, we need to hear this everyday. And yet all we hear is that “It’s all in your head”, “Stop acting like it’s a big issue, you’re not dying” and only if a person resorts to suicide do people see how scary mental illnesses are.

There needs to be so much more awareness for this, people need to learn and most importantly, they need to understand how difficult it is.

It isn’t just feeling sad or lethargic on a monday morning when you need to return work. That’s something a good cup of joe or good music can heal within a few minutes.

It’s feeling that you’re not good enough for this world, that you don’t deserve to be here although you deserve every minute of your life. It’s waking up with tears in your eyes or falling asleep with tears streaming down your face, knowing that you’re not good enough for the people who’ve left you. It’s the painful sensation that causes you to grip your heart as though you’re having a heart attack and you’re dying and nobody’s listening. It’s like drowning in icy cold water and no matter how much you open your mouth to scream, it’s no use. No one is coming to save you.

It’s like having someone strangling you 24/7 and you can’t explain any of this. Like having someone punch you continuously in your gut and you get so breathless that you gasp for air, to no avail. It’s waking up everyday and having thoughts that you’re better off dead than alive, that everything would be easier if you were gone. It’s being so afraid and weary of everything that even the slightest noise plagues you for the rest of the day.

It’s waking up every fucking day of your life and feel that you want to change, but something is holding you back. You want to save yourself, but even yourself doesn’t want to be saved. Like being stuck in limbo and you can’t even help yourself because you’re so used to it, and you don’t know how else to help anymore.

I grew up being very considerate of other people, I was always afraid to offend them and was constantly walking on eggshells around people and never trusted anyone. They always end up disappointing me in the end, anyway. Even with my family I walk on eggshells. I never got the attention I needed and that always made me bitter towards my siblings because I knew that this girl inside could change the world, but she was never given the proper tools to.

So how can I find the strength to tell my parents about my suspicions of having anxiety when I’ve been expected to be the elder sibling and to be okay all the time? Having to set the good example for my younger brother, to do everything to utmost perfection, any less than that is not forgivable? How do you tell someone that you’re not okay, after you’ve been pretending to be okay all your life?

I see all my peers getting jobs and assimilating into society so easily and I yearn for that too, but it’s so difficult. Every time I convince myself that I can do it too, the next minute I’m jumping under my blanket and hiding from the world. I ended finding my solace in books and don’t ever want to leave. I’m always telling myself I’m not good enough for this and that company and just end up not doing anything again. I’ve tried so many times to break this cycle, and it just keeps on going round and round.

I know that I need to change and I need help in order for that to happen. Just anything that can stop this pain, this feeling. But what if the people around me are the ones not offering a helping hand? They’re so skeptical and don’t understand why I can’t be like the rest of the young adults and go out to get a job.

They don’t understand how amplified the anxiety is.

I keep telling myself it’s okay, lying to myself, because I know it’s there, but I don’t want to get shunned by society either. It’s not a crime to have a mental illness.

But I think it should be a crime not to understand it.

The Government claims that they want to help, but have they really? If they did help, then why are people with mental illness not able to openly tell others about it? Why can’t they be the treated the same way as everyone else?

They don’t understand that it’s science. Nobody chooses to have mental illness and nobody would want to. Maybe we’re just the unlucky ones.

My anxiety attacks started when I was 12, and now I’m 21 (this year will be 22) and it’s been 9-10 years ever since that attack and I still get those attacks every once in a while. Yet people have told me that it’s in my head, you’re just nervous, you’re just sad.

It’s nothing of importance.

I’ve even been gaslighted by people who have mental illness, the very same one I’m accusing myself of. I thought we were supposed to band together and help each other, I guess I was wrong.

I feel that mental illness fees should be free, and yet it’s one of the most expensive. We didn’t choose the illness, it chose us.

I find my solace between the lines of the words I read and write.

Urgh, it just sucks. I try to be strong, but maybe I’m not as strong as I thought.

I sometimes wish that the Government would be like the books, they should just place us into a job once we’re done studying, I think that would definitely help those with mental illness. If you don’t like the job, then you can switch, or something like that, you know. Or those with mental illness should, argh, I just don’t know, people should do something about it.

Movie Review: Bad Genius (2017) (5 stars)

“But even if you don’t cheat, life cheats you anyway.”


Title: Bad Genius (2017)

Director: Nattawut Poonpiriva

Runtime: 130 minutes

Genre: Comedy, Drama, Crime


Lynn, a top secondary school student, makes money after developing elaborate methods to help other students cheat. She then receives a new task that leads her to set foot on Sydney: taking the STIC test, an international standardised test for students wanting to enrol in the world’s leading universities.

Rating: 5/5 stars


This movie was literally genius.


The shots are really rustic and raw, and gives an overall really nice feel to the film.


Lynn has a perfect GPA and is a model student, she worries about her new friend Grace and cheats to help her. She gets an irresistible offer since she’s struggling financially and she accepts the offer.

The way they set up the entire story was awesome!


It was so awesome that they used classical music pieces to pass on the answers and cheat. The way they introduced the characters were really interesting. The movie was surprisingly comedic in a sense.

Bank was so nice and honest, but I guess a taste of evil is too addictive for some (Watch the movie to see what I’m talking about!)

This movie was so emotional for me and it also highlighted how flawed the education system in certain countries are.

I would really love to know how they filmed the scene in the landfill (production wise). The argument scene was so well directed!!! The cast’s acting was fantastic and really helped the film to flow more effortlessly.

I was shipping Bank and Lynn so hard though😂 The ending was so brave and cool.

By The Way, me watching the movie doesn’t mean I’m condoning cheating. The concept was really interesting.

Have you watched this movie? What did you think? Let me know in the comments below!