Photo from the Video Winter Song by Sarah and Ingrid.
I had a friend, a wonderful friend. One who I did so much with. We lived together for awhile. But I got sick..mentally sick. I tried to kill myself. I tried to make her hate me by having her save me. I put to much pressure on her. I expected her to heal me when she had her on stuff going on.
I just wanted to die so bad.
I was never in the right state of mind. When we met I was contemplating the best way to do “IT”
After a few years she stopped talking to me suddenly.
It was random. I remember that last message I sent her was asking for her to forgive me. I had funny done it. I had finally cut my wrist. It wasn’t deep enough though. It was to shallow. I survived. To much of a coward to try again once I was free from the hospital. The damage was done though.
She was gone.
I have spoken to her twice since then. Went to visit her. So much had changed when I had not.
I talked to her one more time before she decided enough was enough.
She hates me now.
Not as much as I hate myself.
I can’t forgive myself for what happened.
In the end I am not mad at her anymore. I have forgiven her for not being strong enough to tell me to stop. That I was going to far. I forgive her for ignoring me. I haven’t forgiven myself for hurting her. I wish she would forgive me as well.
She probably never will.
I will probably never have my best friend back.
As a child nothing mattered
But the warmth of my mother’s hold
As I grew I begin to go
Abandoned by the mother I did not truly know
I still loved her
I still do
Still love the mother I never knew
The one who held me
Who kept me warm
Who fault the demons
When I could fight no more
Who told me stories to get me through the storms
Whose ghost stores rivaled the best story-teller
I love this mother
The one from the past
The mother without a care
The one who made me pancakes filled with wishes
The mother who made dreams come true
When dreaming was a luxury
The mother I did not know
The mother, who , deep inside
Didn’t even know her own soul
I am a winner.
So normally I do not write about books. Mainly because I feel like it would take to much time to rant about a character. You know if a person is going to review a story it is probably going to suck. Can’t say anything nice anymore.
But let me be the first to say.
I both hate and loved this book. This book being..TA-DA
The first book in the Selection Series which you can buy via amazon Here
This book was pretty great. It had a few cliches that all YA novels seem to be filled with this days. Stuck between two guys is fairly common and it is not hard to figure out who will win in the end. Not like that dreaded series I loved and ended up hating. The one that shall not be named….A Shade of Vampire… Darnit!!!
Well I tried.
OK so America. Yes her name is America and this was written by an American. Way to give our country it’s well deserved hard on especially when you consider that she got that name due to that during the 3 world war. America was getting its butt handed to them. They where overthrown and China took over. So we became the American of China. Or something like that I blocked that part from my memory. Either or during the fourth world War (because as you can see. History repeats itself and Americans still stuggle to sit their asses down.) America defeated China. So America’s decided that since America had been through so much she would name her daughter it because is so strong willed.
Which I agree. America is fairly strong willed though she does have her limits. She is weak at all the right moments. Let me take that back, this girl is human. In stories I hate the human types. The ones who do things and you are sitting there yelling at them to stop being so stupid. Yet go back four years or even four months, and you did the same.
She is not so much going through two guys as much as she is getting over the break up with one and finding herself slowing moving on to another. It is pretty nice actually.
Due to this being the first book she is the main focus though I hope that changes. Can’t feel bad for a bunch of people I don’t know.
I enjoy this story because she is so real. When you get broken up with you do become jaded. You become scared and at times weak. If that person comes back into your life, and even though you don’t want them back, there is alway that what if in the back of your mind.
That was a run on sentence.
I don’t know how to fix that…
I just lost my train of thought.
OK so I am having a hard time remembering what letter goes for each day and just found that I may have skipped some days. Thinking that I had already pre wrote them only to find I didn’t write for the right day.. I think.
This is why we need preforming arts in our schools.
Dear Brain, duck you
Yes duck you to the very depths of hell. Duck you till you can’t see straight you ducking piece of child sized poop.
I should harm you with my fist. Shove you a wall and thinly slice your naughty bits.
You are a brain and thus, have no naughty bits. But if you did I would slice them.
Thank you for ruining my life while giving me life, you corrupted doo doo headed snake fart.
A mom whose child likes to pretend she can read and will occasionally look over her shoulder as she types.
Poop you brain.
OK so pictured above you see the magistic blue footed booby. Known for its blue footed Ness….
Ah boobies…got to love them!
OK so I have a question for all..10..11. Of the people who follow me. Hey the rest of you join in as well.
Question is…Do you hunt?
Do you go out and make a meal out of bambi and little Thumper. Possibly even Little Foot as well considering what you dig up.
See I don’t mind hunting. I think that it is fine and dandy to go into the wild and bring the family some din din. That being said, I hate people who go out and kill animals just so they can have that perfect selfie that will get them hated by.
Don’t go out and kill Simba if you are not going to eat him. You are wasting resources because you got bored.
Don’t go out and stab an aristocratic cat (you all know who) because you wanted to have a few giggles.
Don’t you dare, don’t you freaking dare go out and chop up spirit (cool point is you know who I mean), because he has a broken leg.
Broken doesn’t equal dead.
Hung for food not sport. If you are not going to eat your catch then let it leave. We would be dead if certain things decided to gorge themselves on human flesh just because they can. Has no one realized how screwed we would be if dogs decided that dry sand isn’t the best meal and wanted to add human to their diet. We would all die within days. Dogs are awesome. If you kill a dog you have already etched a spot for yourself under Satan’s whip and possible found a job opening as his assistant. That being said.
Don’t be a stupid. Don’t kill unnecessarily.
Remember when lying was a sin?
It was about the same time when we discovered the horrors of the words “shut up” or pointing at people.
Remember when lying got us in trouble, but at the end of the day we knew we were loved.
Remember when lying was something we tried our hardest never to do
When things were so much easier if we told the truth.
Remember when we were first told to lie.
‘Don’t tell that lady she has a mole’
‘Don’t tell that person you don’t like them’
‘Don’t tell mom/dad’
‘Tell your teacher we lost your homework paper and you need a new one’
‘Don’t worry, I will call you in sick’
‘Pretend you didn’t hear them ‘
All perfectly good lies.
Sorry I am tattling though.
My daughter peed on me at the hospital once. Not like a little piddle but full force pee.
Guess it was my fault really. She was sick and I, like every first time parent, rushed her to the emergency room. Tears in my eyes I asked for help not knowing at the time she had but a simple cold.
No! To me she had an encurable illness brought on my being bundled to much..or was it to little. I just needed to know!
So I took her in and well…you know that little thermometer they stick in kids butt when they are to little and squirm to much.
Yeah…well… I let them use that. She didn’t seem to find anything wrong with it. Though I was promptly punished for it. She peed on me..like all of me. My leg was covered with fresh baby pee. I was so happy I started crying again.
So I brought her home after hours of sitting there. She had a cold…did I tell you that… and put her to bed.
This whole time I forgot I was covered in pee. Went home, put her to bed, went to eat dinner, went back, feed her, and went to bed.
To this day I still don’t understand why it took me nearly four hours to take off those pee pee pants.
****** I do not like this post..I want to edit it and I don’t know how. It sounds silly to me. Wrong is some ways but I can’t tell where. SEND HELP! ****
I hate them. I hate looking at them, thinking of them, being spoken to about them. Don’t tell me how they are. Don’t tell them how I am. They don’t matter to me so why do you bring them up like I care…why do that to me. Why pretend that things are alright when they are not. That hurts you know!
Maybe I am being selfish… don’t really care either way. Just stop bring them up OK ….
She held out her hand for all to see.
A simple apple from a simple tree
Dusted with the morning dew
Glistening to calm and sweet.
This apple taken by a maid.
She smiled brightly for this made her day.
The maid then bowed, she was as happy as can be.
The Queen had blessed her with such a simple
From a simple
Took a bite for all to see.
Sweet little maid, then she
Turned red as the apple spilled from her lips
Such kissable bow lips
The maid turned with a sudden and curse.
Such disgusting words she cursed.
“THE QUEEN HAS POISONED ME”
Such disgusting words.
The crowd took up arms
The Queen was promptly taken away.
Such dirty things were said.
Gossip began to spread.
Words utter that have never been said.
Off with her head!
To death she be.
Said the maid to the queen.
And people listened!
No one thinking of the simple apple
From the simple tree
A simple treat that was meant to be
Blown away by misplaced anger
The Queen was laid to death.
Because of the words a heathen dared say.
Such disgusting words she uttered.
Such words said from the maid about her mother.
Death to the Queen. The savior of us all.
Because of the words
Spoken by a simple mind
Simply the best place
to sleep for eternity
*****Warning please be advised this post deals with some heavy stuff. Please read no further if you are unable to handle different forms of abuse…*****
I have tried so hard to forget. To move past everything that has happened in my life.
I was born unhappy it seems, born into a world I never felt ready for. I lived with my mother for the first few years of my life. Going from place to place once I turned five. Sometimes with my mother and sometimes without. We where always running from something. Running from being homeless and poor. Always one step away from losing it all. My mother was good at hiding the fact that we didn’t have much of anything. I don’t remember the struggle. Even now with looking back I don’t see anything but happiness growing up with her. As a child I did go through a lot of hardships. At the age of four I was forced to witness my mother be hurt by a man for the first time. That was when my lack of faith started. I remember it as much as a four-year old can. My mother was sexually abused as me and my sister were forced to sit there. Years would past and my memories of what happen would morph to were I felt I was to blame. That I was weak because I could not protect my mother or sister. Even when I am my sister were hurt ourselves I blamed myself. I was the one who should have been strong enough to defeat the darkness. By this time I was 8 years old. My sister had confided in me what happened to her and I had let her know that it had happened to me as well. I told her I would deal with it. It would be months before I would even tell my mother what had happened. I never had faith in adults or God. While I pretended to have faith in those around me and my church. I mainly did it because it was required of me. I said what needed to be said and I did what needed to be done to appease everyone. All the while hiding my true self. That I was suffering, that I was taking on more than an 8 year old should.
I was molested twice before I said anything.
At the age of 9 I was taken away from my mother. I had my 10 birthday in a children home. It was then that I told everyone what happened to me and my sister. Not many people believed us though.