Twist Out Blues

You what I hate these days? I hate what Trump is doing to America; I hate driving in New York City and I hate doing a twist out and my style disappearing within two days. Honestly, it takes a lot for me to dislike or have anger towards anything. I find comfort in being cool about most things. But when you put time and energy into a style and it is gone… becomes increasingly challenging to maintain that zen like mood.

On Sunday night, I put my hair into twists. I sat in my bed while watching the Walking Dead and preceded to do my hair. My hands worked through my hair carefully parting each strand to the best of my ability. (I actually am very bad at parting, ha ha.) My hands put some time into each piece of hair treating it delicately. When I was done, I put a hair cap over it to preserve the look. My hair was left in the twists for about two days to continue the preservation of the look I wanted. On Wednesday, I took the twists out and the style did not look too bad. It had a mixture of perfect and lopsided curls that accentuated my style. It was not perfection, but it defined my look.

For some reason this morning, it looked even better. It had definition, volume and the curls were looking great. I was so excited. I went on to take a shower like I do every day. However when I was finished, the popping volume was GONE!!!! My hair had shrunk so much. It looked like how it normally does after a few days of a twist out. This has happened before after taking a steamy shower, but I am just so sick of it. It sucks when humidity ruins your hair. Venting here is making me feel a bit better, but it truly is frustrating when the warmth that actually puts you at so much ease into your routine destroys the time and effort put into your tresses.

However, I cannot help but love the diversity my hair naturally possesses. It changes when it feels best. I can only do so much to control it. I am loving my kinks but that love turns into frustration at times. It is like loving a child; you come into your once clean kitchen and find a tornado of a mess. Your anger rises quickly, but you find a way to swallow it and handle that situation like a champ (or try to) because in your heart you know the love you have for the sometimes wild one is unconditional. My wild mane will always have my heart. I will do my best to understand it one day at a time. So for today, I will put on my armor of chill and embrace the shrunken kinks my hair decided to morph into.


This was after a successful twist out. =)

I am

The urge to write sometimes comes to you at the most random times. Seriously, I was driving earlier and wanted to write. It sucked cause I don’t think it’s legal to write and drive. Luckily, the urge came back while listening to some inspiring music from Kendrick Lamar. I’ve been feeling these words for some time now, but today I finally got the push I needed to get it out. Conversations with some pretty dope friends was also part of the product for this piece. Check it out and I hope it gets you to do what you do best – being the awesome person that you are.

I am
an entity that cannot be boxed in
keep me free and I will be
the truest form of ecstasy

I am
a sensation that only
some can see
the delights of warmth, charisma and grace
created as human with no haste

I am
An energy of light beaming through
life at a speed that’s best for me
unstoppable and malleable in space

I am
an organism sifting through life
trying to understand it’s complexities
but blossoming from my eloquent pirouettes and ghastly deformities

I am
a woman meandering in a spiral of comic energy
embracing the intricate elements changing each day
and growing to make a path of peace and joy along the way



The Last Page


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There’s this relationship I have. It’s more special than I ever thought it would be. It’s one of the most powerful connections I’ve had in my life. I’ve grown so much from being just a naive girl to a woman thirsty for understanding and growth. This special union has gotten me through the tough hurdles of life and even through the grim days of nothingness.

Unfortunately, this relationship is coming to an end. It’s something I cannot control. There’s nothing that can be done to stop this. But the deep journey I’ve had with my journal is over.

A great gift from an incredible woman who I interned for at SUNY Plattsburgh, this book has carried me through it all during the years. It was my literal void to express my deepest thoughts, my plans for the future, even notes from work meetings. It was the chronicle of everything Tiffany; or at least most of me. I even have blueprints of how the Heartbeat Life would be created within in its pages.

I’ve had journals before, but this one in particular is genuine proof of my growth. I’m excited to start another one, but I will always treasure this one. Goodbye to my editorial recollections of life in this book and hello to the memories of it all as well as the start of a new journal journey.

Happy Valentine’s Day by the way! Whether you’re single or in a relationship, I’ll stand by my belief that the most important relationship you can have is with yourself. Stay happy, safe and peaceful on this day. ❤


Pimp My Blog


Anyone with a blog loves to write. Well, MOST people with one do. I feel like all my energy goes into my writing when I produce content. Even if it’s something I know little about, but where I learn incredible facts, I still feel alive. However, I also need to make a living.

It’s so difficult finding a place to write quality content and get paid well to do it. I’ve tried internships where you basically have the role as a staff writer without the monetary perks. I’ve tried applying to countless websites and jobs looking for a place for my writing to shine. “Pick me. Pick me, my writing will kick butt,” I feel like screaming among the sea of leads. Application after application and all a writer gets is either a “We’ve received your application” email or nothing at all. However, the 5% of the time that I do receive a legit response it’s for a content mill, a writer sweat shop paying next to nothing for high quality content.

I wish I could throw my degree in their face and yell “I deserve better; every writer does.” Seriously, if they want to pay so little then they might as well do it themselves. I do understand more if the source is from a third world country. But there has to be an easier way for experienced writers to get paid well for their passion.

Believe me, I’ve done my research on getting paid well to write. I may have to work more harder on marketing myself as a content writer to businesses because that seems like the best outlet. One way I’m looking into now is using this wonderful place, The Heartbeat Life, to sell ads or links. I just don’t want this space to turn into a marketing ploy instead of a place for my writing to breath. People should enjoy the content here and not be spammed by annoying ads. However, I wouldn’t mind using related ads that visitors will like so I can pay some bills.

In the past week, I’ve tried using Matomy, SponsoredReviews, PaySpree, PayPerPost and AdSense. Honestly, I still feel lost using all of them. I’m trying to learn more about affiliate marketing, but I’m a confused voyager in this new world. I hope one day I’ll get more of a hang of it.

R&B 90s Nostalgia

My vision is blurry as the world around me has changed. Guys are rocking a straight, high top fade like the Fresh Prince. Women are walking proud in their baggy, colorful attire. Everyone seems to have this easy going confidence expelling from them. The sound emanating from my computer suffocates me with nostalgia and I become lost in a memory. When the three minutes are up, the environment goes back to the 2014, fast paced reality of what it is now. Then I find the next 90s tune on Youtube, hit play and I’m back again. I’m not exactly depressed about being brought back, but every time I enter the 90s it’s hard to want to come back. I was barely four feet at the time, but it was a period that I can never forget. Every single movement proves important when watching a Dru Hill video. The instant burst of joy jumping under each ounce of my skin when my ears get a bite of Janet’s “That’s the Way Love Goes” is perfection. Not saying I want to stay in the past, but there is nothing wrong with visiting every once in a while.