breaking up is hard to do

 

This is 100% fictional. I have spent some time with people of faith, but this is in no way an accurate account of any factual encounter. 

He said he loved me. I was only 17 but my parents encourage the engagement. Three months before my 18th birthday, I couldn’t be more excited about the promise of my new sisters and the man of my dreams fathering my unborn children and fueling my future through our faith. My parents walked me down the aisle to my future husband, Le Groupoop, the love and leader of my new life. The next adventure in our developing life was set to take place a distant land, Idaho. Mother appeared to have some apprehensions, but father helped pack my bags. 

The snow was falling in a fashion I imagined to encounter if angels fell upon me in my sleep, but this was the consummation of my marriage.. how could anything feel any better? It was everything I wanted and more. My sisters held my hand as they lead me to our forever lover. I was taken to my new home and the joy of a fresh life filled me with hope. The peace I felt when I was embraced by by sisters and my clan was unparalleled to anything I had ever known. A blissful sanctuary.

After some time, I started to hear stories about the children. They were not getting the attention that young humans require. There was also a lot of lime green Jell-O that we were told was necessary for the heath and wellbeing of these youth; the children needed the Jell-O. I’m vegan and Jell-O is made with bovine bi-products. There was no way I could validate such a monstrosity. Green Jell-O? What about spinach? Where was the asparagus? What about kale? This could not stand! My so called “sisters” did not seem to feel the same way about the Jell-O and I could not come to terms with their attempts at rationalizing the lackluster affection we received from our “forever lover.”

I spent the next seven weeks trying my best to navigate route 66…maybe it was route 666? How could I have done this to myself? Was I that scared and lost in my own delusions that I couldn’t even find my way out? Was it a fight for freedom or was it against the church? Was I scared to dearth about the future of these children? Did I even care? Or was I just desperate to break away?

 hello. Remember me, because I don't think I do. 

staring at the ceiling... I think I just winked at myself

Life isn't about impressing people. It's about learning and loving. And that can be hard.

It may require times of being full of shit... or just moments of spewing words and ideas of greatness.

We all have stories about life.
We all have reasons for our actions.

We all have a wondrous rendition about that one time when the sun....

Still going to try

This blog used to mean so much to me. It was art and feeling and beauty and so much. I just looked at what is has become and I'm not proud. 

There will be direct ('direst ice' ... The auto correct for my shit speling ((please contunie reading for further explanation))) changes in the coming month, for I want to remember the good old days of actually writing creatively. Unfortunately, the reason I stopped writing was that I lost my dear computer. Hurdels are there for a reason. I'm not even 25% sure on how to spell check on my current device, thus I may get utterly frustrated and quit. 

Typing on a screen is not ideal. 

Why are typewriters so lovely, yet so fucking heavy!!??

Try, try, and just fucking do it.

It's the 3rd of November in New Zealand. 11 days before I turn 29. I'm listening to Jaill. Ass naked, dripping wet. Lonely but never alone. In a bed that's not mine, in a country that's not mine, yet, in a world that seems perfectly fit for me right now. Crazy about someone that surely dosen't know it; crazy for anyone that ignores me. Wrapped up in ideas of a fruitful future. Always thinking of ways to leave. Always thinking of being in love with the moment, yet running away as fast as I can; thinking of the past before it ever happens; imagining the future that will never be. 

However, there is this very strange feeling in me. I want to stay here. I want a pattern. For once. I want to just focus on not fleeting. Or maybe, maybe I actually have a clear focus on how to be successful at continuously fleeting.To keep leaving everything behind withouth losing everything. To run, but to never lose my breath. To love, but to never feel lose. 

Is this growing old? Is this wisdom? 

Or is this losing your mind?  

Hook this

 It's truly amazing how much iPhones do not work the way they are supposed to. If I wanted to spend a shit ton of money  on something that dosen't work, I would have payed for a hoker. 

not now

i just realized that.... i haven't been awake in a while. and why would i want to be? no one has anything to say... rather, no one wants to say anything that i want to hear. so. so once upon a time i met this woman. she knew what she wanted but then she saw a star shoot threw the sky and she saw something more. she saw a future that she wasn't ready for.