In less than a month I have gained so many new friends and followers; even a couple fans of my writing have found me. It’s really humbling and the positive messages have really been cool to read and respond to. I’ve gotten some hateful messages too, but those just get thrown away with the rest of the trash. I just wanted to say thank you for everything.
I bought new bras yesterday. I’m not used to seeing how big my breasts are. Like… no. It’s awkward and I’m overwhelmingly sensitive about it all. I went to take an outfit photo and I just gave up.
Dealing with death has never been something I’m all that good with. Experiencing loss is triggering for me. So when a friend texts me after midnight to tell me that a friend had taken his own life earlier that day all I could do was stare vacantly at the ceiling. I had nightmares and since waking my chest hurts. I have no conception of what it would be like to understand how to process this.
It is so difficult to stay in a state of grace when all I want to do is crumble and cry
Today as I rested my head on the ground and lay next to my dad’s gravestone I could hear the families trickle in to pay their respects to their lost loved ones. I watched the clouds pass and chatted to my dad quietly, mostly ignoring those around me, except for the small family a few rows ahead of me. I noticed that they had put a small Christmas tree over a grave stone and were holding each others hands. They spoke for a while and then silently split apart to visit other grave sites. The older man who was with them stayed behind. I could hear him pray. It wasn’t what I expected to hear. He prayed for the other individuals at the cemetery today. He asked God to help us all find peace in our hearts. He started crying and I had to sit up and wipe the tears from my eyes and cheeks. I had held it together long enough to hear this mans selfless prayer. I put my sunglasses back on and bowed my head to silently join in his prayers. Moments passed and as he walked by the rows he past me. He leaned down and touched my shoulder whispering ‘have a merry Christmas’.
This man will never fully grasp how powerful those words were to me. His selflessness was inspiring and heartbreaking. I couldn’t say anything in response. All I could muster outside of my tears was a nod. I don’t even think he looked back. I’m convinced he just dematerialize into the ether.
My first ever love from when I was 19 just confessed that, after we hung out a few weeks back when he was in town, had a very distinct type of dream about me.
I can’t wait to tell Skokie. I’m going to get so many high fives!!!
I stood over my fathers body as they asked me to sign the forms. I could barely see past my own tears. I only had 29 fucking years. It wasn’t fair and I wasn’t ready. How does a man who was so strong fall so quickly? I miss his voice and I miss his hugs but I know that I am stronger. I’m stronger because of him. When I look at my brothers I see his light and strength shining through them and I know we will be ok but in this moment I am lost. I wish just for a moment I could feel his hug and hear his voice.
Vocalizing my rage for a corrupt system won’t do be a bit of good. Attempting to understand why certain corporations see fit to screw over the people who are part of making these corporations function on a daily basis is pointless. I very much plan on raging. Bitching, moaning, and realizing that I am but a small piece of this shit storm of a society we ALL exist in is just part of being a citizen of a first world nation that allows the man with the bigger stick to beat the man with no stick.
In short… This little person will be arming her self with a very big stick. I won’t be caught with out said stick ever again.
I can’t hide it very well. My heart is racing the moment I think about what she did. My teeth grit and my fists clench. I grin and bear it because, what else can I do? She’s a swarthy cunt of a human being who can do nothing other than put me down and insult me for who I am… in my own home nonetheless!!!!
What pisses me off… I usually don’t give a single fuck what people think. I guess when it’s your own blood the connection that is torn apart just hurts a bit more at times.
Words are one thing; actions are another. When they combine they have the power to confuse, contort and regulate what you thought was real.