waking up on october 1st like
ifinddelightinthegruesomeandgrim:
(via thatwellspokentoken-blog)
Formerly: Skinny Betty, Skinay Bettay. Lots of pic
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2015-10-01
Source: ifinddelightinthegruesomeandgrim
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(via girlinabearsuit)
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I consider myself lucky on all accounts. I am alive, I am doing what I love (for the most part), I can finally rest easy knowing that whatever is making my eyes twitch is just due to a chemical imbalance that can be fixed with medication, but why is there still a nagging feeling. A nagging feeling like I would not be where I am today if I had not sacrificed things. I have lost friends because I have not spoken to them out of necessity for my own sanity and because I simply haven’t had the time to. I chose to not respond to their calls and messages because to be completely honest learning is more of a priority than friends. Call it and myself whatever you please because I am far too busy to pay attention to what others say. That is a lie I am continuously aware of what others say around me and about me because they do not realize I am there. I make a wonderful house plant just sitting there in the corner while life goes on around me and people believe I do not have the ability to speak. Do plants even speak? Perhaps. To others if I am a house plant then so be it. Perhaps I truly have gone insane like they thought I was anyway. Not so insane as one might think, but just enough to start questioning if everything around me is real. Is this real life or is this just fantasy? Isn’t that what Freddie said? Who knows anymore. On the bright side I’m not like the woman who climbed the walls in the room filled with yellow wall paper. I am rambling in the wee hours of the morning, but what else is new. History will repeat itself, will it not. Is that not what happens when others are ignored and left to stew in their own brains? A mind is a terrible thing to waste. It’s already been wasted if you haven’t learned something new today. Philosophia, a love of learning and a love of knowledge. At what price though? The price of others? The price of lost friends? The price of lost sanity? Don’t worry all the best people are. Right said Fred. Yes, quite right. Quite lucky indeed. Surrounded by loved ones whom I barely see. Don’t google that it’s filled with death and imagery of lying on a bed slowly dying while others surround you and say their last goodbyes. Hospice. Make them comfortable. How do you know they’re comfortable? What does a senile Alzheimer’s patient know? Well they certainly cannot tell you in their final stages that is for sure. That is what I fear becoming my grandmother reverted to the age of one clutching a baby doll in her small wrinkly crepe paper hands, continuously licking her dry lips without any relief, not saying a word, looking around the room wildly as if looking for an escape, solely remembering that when someone approaches you with puckered lips that that means to pucker your own and to respond to their kiss. Did she really know what that meant? Was it her only memory that she gave us all a kiss with her bright pink lipstick? She wore if everyday and her hair was always dyed blonde, so strange, discomforting, unsettling to see her disheveled without makeup not even her rouge, her now gray and white hair matted on her head, I was surprised that someone else had not fixed it for her. I cannot even remember a time before that when her hair, makeup, nails, and clothes were impeccable. The grandmother I remember would be embarrassed and ashamed if she knew what was to become of herself. I hope she looks like she used to, I hope she’s happy. She was quite the disgruntled woman for no apparent reason other than growing up on a plantation in Alabama, she was not a slave there her family owned them. Maybe this was God’s punishment for enslaving so many people to make her suffer. She had been so vain so it is quite possible that that is why her life ended the way it did and why she looked as she did. We were sure to change her lipstick and makeup in casket because she would never be caught dead in any other lipstick than pink, but this shade was far too light. Not Fran’s color at all. I’m just glad that she and Jack are happy now, maybe they’re better people now. Everything happens for a reason. I hope I’ve been made better by the people around me because if I have not been then clearly I am doing something wrong. Surround yourself with positive people. Learn something new everyday because a mind is a terrible thing to waste. Everything happens for a reason, yes, but what is that reason? Can you tell me that now? Dare I ask for that question to be asked? Is it too bold of a question? Why have I been beaten, abused, verbally assaulted? What have I done in my life that is so terrible that I still can hear everything horrible that has been said to me in their voices? The voices of those who I wish no harm because despite what they did I have forgiven them, though it has taken me a great deal of time. I just want everyone to be happy and what is so wrong with that? Am I sacrificing myself for other’s happiness? Am I wearing myself thin? Ha wearing myself thin. There was that too. We all are dealing with something whether small or large to others matters not because to us it is the heaviest of burdens and greatest of all to deal with. Burdens cannot always be seen in someone’s face or in their gait and stature. How someone presents themselves does not give one the right to make accusations or assumptions. We forget that often in our hastiness. Haste makes waste. Does that even apply? Who knows my dear, who knows.
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2015-09-11
Source: dragracemetohell
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Oh Fefe
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(via fatsmeow)
Source: eatmorebikes
