Value of man and plenty of other caffeinated talks.
A man with a daughter. A single man with a daughter. A drug addict with his daughter. A man who will go to no ends necessary to fulfill his need of a high, at the expenses of ignoring his child, to the expenses of stealing from family, work, etc.
there are so many options left to save him. The value of his life right now? I’m not sure. The question is, how does he talk his way to my mother’s heart and yet my father sees right through his bullshit? How is it that we allow him to keep his daughter as a protective bubble so his mind can easily wander into things that aren’t allowable? How is it that we watch him deteriorate in front of us, out of fear that he’ll do something irrational. Right now foster care seems safer for his daughter than it is for her to grow up and watch her father’s mind become less than of a simpleton’s. It’s tough to live so far away and to hear these things, to be in the middle of bickering arguments etc. He lives each day to find a high, to be angry at the world because he is a victim, and single little victim.
All I got to say is, work, work your ass off, I would never allow his daughter watch him do this.
Our family dislikes “Michelle(s) and Michele(s)” I didn’t get to see my baby girls, I didn’t get turkey/a thanksgiving feast because of family issues and I almost had my glasses smooshed by my cousin.
My credit card was declined and I lost all incentives to eat, thank you Ninja Assassin.
OVERALL though, I’ve missed my family. I’m happy I single handedly drove our asses here.
So this is the breakdown. 5 hours worth of traffic to come home, night blindness is my downfall, which turns the roads into a dangerous game of follow the tail-lights. From here I come home and daddys work schedule keeps him away while mother and I nap on the couch. Thanksgiving day, the plan was to go to Houston and spend time with family, both sides. Due to the work schedule, my parents argue a bit.
Next thing you know they don’t want to go to houston, upset and determined, I take my little brother and off we voyage to our families.
TBC my eyes hurt.
I went through today. I did what was needed to be done. I saw stars, I saw some fall, I made wishes and I giggled some. My right eye has redeveloped a stye and is irritated to no reasons understandable. I made a new video today, check me out on youtube, dawgs!
I found a little sanctuary, where I can silently sit and enjoy whatever noise is created in the rooms near me. Sadly I’m yet to be registered as a student under any kind of music classes so having to have someone swipe me in was a bit of a challenge. I found my safe haven, where the piano can be played to the optimal fortissimo and nothing could stop it. I found an area where the piano player in the room right next to me competed to finish the same Hanon warm-up I’ve been so accustomed to in the past 14 years. I tried to over play him and I tried to play faster. I lost in the classical music department, where as he lost in the modern music department. Although I never exchanged a glance at the male who played in the next room over, I know he’s waiting for our next challenge, whenever that may be.
As of right now, my outline is not even half done, but the morning shall wake me up enough to finish this nuisance as fast as I can…
There’s a war between the vanities, but all I see is you and me, and the fight for you is all I’ve ever known…
previous statement. I will be watching it tonight. Nothing but stars falling from the sky to keep me distracted right?
SO THEREFORE TOTAL PLANS FOR TODAY: go to classes, coffee, find a piano, coffee, write AHIST paper, coffee, FSA volleyball games/wishing my Kuya a happy Birthday, coffee, keep working on AHIST paper, coffee, meteor shower.
“Cause there’s no comfort in the waiting room
Just nervous pacers bracing for bad news
And then the nurse comes round and everyone lift their heads
But I’m thinking of what Sarah said…
Love is watching someone die”—
I’m so alone. The alone that can only happen when you give someone everything you have and they crush you, they say that you aren’t good enough. You’re hardest wasn’t good enough. Your kind wasn’t kind enough, your love wasn’t loving enough, you’re sacrafices didn’t Hurt enough. So now that’s all you can do. Hurt. And cry. And hurt some more. Not hope. Not wait. No, you know better than to hope now. You’ve just been taught the consequences of trust, hope, and love.
You’ll defy gravity. Give yourself the time to heal first.
“if you want to talk about fucked up, I quit dating you because I got addicted to cocaine behind your back and blew you off completely. In that process I found Julia because she DID/knew where to find Cocaine…”—Confessions of an ex boyfriend from way long ago…
but it’s my outlet so fuck it. IT SUCKS. Everything Sucks.
But what are you to understand? the nights on the living room floor, curled up with all the lights on. The nightmares that occur one my eyes are closed and how most of the time I wake up crying. The night terrors that awaken my roommates on a nightly basis. the quiet quiet space my room offers, I’ve yet to walk in it. How long is this suppose to last? Not sure, BUT I keep running here. yes, here. What I normally think of as a refuge is here. But Sometimes I think foolishly to think that this place could save me from any misery I’ve endured.
I have no polaroid/poladroid picture to post up. I could have gotten a nice shot of all the Guy Fawkes masks that invaded the dining hall in remembrance of the 5th of November, but that failed miserably as I ran there in new shoes that ripped apart the back of my foot, and got stuck by a huge construction traffic from them repairing the sidewalks and installing a useless fountain. I could have gotten a photo of my teacher when she fervently spoke about post impressionism, she had so much life in her! (She also for some reason makes me really happy when she teaches, I think it’s her enthusiasm.)
I could have gotten a picture of Roland’s cake, but by that point in time, my energy had drained and i wanted to punch the next person to piss me off in the face. I could have gotten a photo of my car’s twin, but I decided not to.
I could have gotten a photo of Don running at me with his lab notebook ready to hit me, but I decided to stare in disbelief. I should have gotten a photo of the duct-tape cardboard boat, but my hands were busy taping the thing together with my big bro and FSA.
I wish I got a picture while I was at Ikura’s, but I was too busy mooching off of my big bro’s advantages at the place/enjoying sushi. Keith got pictures, but I begged him to never ever show the public/world those photos.
I wish I had a picture of everyone trying to sleep on the couch and me fighting for space.
It’s polaroid week? I don’t want to sound stupid. No. Flickr confirmed, it’s polaroid week. About to bust out my pseudo-film and enjoy the magic happenings of poladroid. Oh how not having money to waste on fun things kinda sorta sucks.
happy ‘roid week to all my film lovers who actually has the talent to do such artwork.
We believe that the silence that we once sought after is no longer golden…It’s actually rather haunting. It’s awful. It’s deafening in its own right. Silence is powerful; a statement; a symphonic rally against whatever the argument maybe. Silence says too much and just enough at once. Silence is nothing.
Right now there is no silence around me, sounds of buzzing, whirring, clanking and clicking of my keyboard, laptop, TV, lamps, washing machine, roommate and breathing. There is a lot to take in, and not much to take out. These past few nights were not silent and the past few nightmares/realities have been loud and wordless.
Perhaps it is deafening to you as it is to me for it cannot sing the lullaby to cradle me to sleep, and it does not put me at ease in the dark.
I don’t know what it is, but silence, the resounding echoing silence is just too loud right now.