“I declare after all there is no employment like reading! How much sooner one tires of any thing than of a book! When I have a house of my own, I shall be miserable if I have not an excellent library.” – Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice There is something that happens to a person […]
You don’t know me, I don’t know you.
But does that really matter?
My ex-boyfriend asked me if I could talk to him.
I said yes, thinking this might be about school.
And then he led me to my favorite professor’s empty room
Hugged me tight and coaxed my lips open to welcome his tongue.
He broke free from our little tourette, asked me if I have extra money.
I said no. He then asked me to borrow money from some of my friends.
“What for?”, I replied. “Hotel.”
I laughed nervously, thought he was joking. So I resumed to our foolish, stupid display of wasting each other’s time.
Not an hour later, I asked him if what’s going on, if we are back together.
Then he said he’s not really ready for commitment.
So what’s going to happen now? How am I supposed to act if ever we find ourselves crossing each other’s path in one of school’s hallway?
Then kissed my forehead then went out.
THIS. This is how it’s like to be 20. Good fucking luck.
I feel. Shamanistic. I feel.
I feel atavistic and pantheistic. I feel touched by what they couldhave, maybe did call the divine wind. Though only my fingers and eyes move here, a wind, no, a storm is blowing through me. I feel wracked, my soul exposed and blown to shreds. Around my head a cloud of words whirls, I can still taste the colours that no-one has ever named. The ocean took me, and now the words take me. The world feels one second slow, not synced to your perception. They call it seeing beyond the veil and they are wrong. It really means that I can see through the veil, but that you are on one side of the veil and I am on the far side, and over here everything is clear. I have mainlined the ocean and the night into my blood and my lungs and my…
View original post 1,248 more words
“What the f*ck is wrong with me?” I cried as I laid in bed in excruciating pain at 4 in the morning. I wanted to call someone, anyone. The tears rolled down my face as my legs stiffened.
This was night number five.
I attempted to stand up to make the leg cramps subside, stumbling to the ground as soon as I tried.
I laid on the ground for a few minutes, feeling defeated and helpless just like the night before. I reached for my water beside me, chugging it in hopes of ameliorating the problem. Maybe dehydration was the problem. I just needed to drink more water and the leg cramps would go away. Yeah, sure.
“You need to stretch more and maybe take it easy on your legs, you’re always on them.”
“Eat more protein.”
“Drink more electrolytes.”
“Get more sleep.”
I became thirsty. Always thirsty. I assumed…
View original post 1,586 more words
Don’t believe me? Get on the freeway.
Contrary to popular opinion, American highways are not great big parking lots. The one you’re on, yes, it’s gridlocked, but there’s open road ahead and behind. Smooth sailing. You just can’t see it for the brake lights and semis standing in your way. Traffic jams, you see, are a natural consequence of our need for companionship. Apparently, we don’t want to be alone.
Yeah? Too bad. Spread out, people, and give me some elbow room. I can’t breathe with everyone crammed together like sardines. This is how claustrophobia starts, you know. And I have enough problems already; I don’t need more. What do you have against solitude, anyway? It’s really quite lovely.
In solitude, you’re free to be the you only you know. There’s no pressure to fit in or appearance to keep up, no expectations to meet (or fall short of) —…
View original post 226 more words
Dear new baby loss friends: I do not know what I would have done never having met you. The ones who comment on my blog, the ones reading, the ones who show up in support group, the ones I email almost daily. How would I have survived if you weren’t here in the muddy trenches with me? I’m sorry you are here, but I’m grateful if we both had to be here, we could be here together.
Dear new non baby loss friends: Wow, you have surprised me in the most kind way. Some of you are new- reading and supporting me through this blog. Some of you are old acquaintances who have reached out and been an unexpected but totally welcome bit of support.
Dear friends and family who have stuck around: Thank you for not giving up on me. I know I am not easy to be with…
View original post 159 more words