My best friend is dying. He is lying in a hospital bed, and I can't be there beside him. That's what's killing me. I'm sitting in an apartment simply waiting to hear he's gone and I can't do anything about it, I can't hold his hand, I can't tell him I love him, I can't see his smile one last time... My best friend is dying, and I am sitting here, hundreds of miles away, wishing I could ease his pain or steady his breathing or sing him to sleep or touch his face as he drifts away from me. I wanted to be there when he went. So that I can know that he's alright. If he dies and the next time I see him is lying in a coffin, it won't seem real, it won't seem right. Seeing a face that's never been peaceful, lying there, motionless. It's hard to grasp. It's hard to accept. I don't know how to accept this.
Sitting here, in a pale tan apartment, waiting to hear that he got his wings... and his lungs. His lungs which failed him, his lungs which couldn't breath. Those cursed, stupid lungs. I'd have given him my own, but that wasn't plausible. Besides, he'd never have allowed it. He's stubbourn that way. And so are those lungs. Always filling with fluid, and now, just plain weak. I wish he'd been given a better set of lungs. Then I could have had him beside me forever.
He loved me you know. He really did. He said so himself, and that's not something he'd just say. He loved me. That way that people love each other when love is real. The kind of love that meant that when I said I didn't feel the same, he accepted it, because he knew it was better for me. The kind of love that makes me feel like an absolute dick for not loving him back. I wished I could have made him smile more. Wish I could have helped him more.
The truth is, he was always there for me. The truth is, he always cared. He offered to kill the men who hurt me. He offered to hold me when I cried. He made me smile when I wanted to hit people. He helped me become the woman I am.
I can only hope that I had some small impact on his beautiful life. His soul made such a dent on mine, I hope I made a scratch on his.
Because the truth is, I do love him. Maybe not in that way. But that doesn't make my love for him any less than a great love. He was my best friend and as I wait for the phone call that tells me that he's gone, I wish I could be with him to hold his hand and to know that he's safe.
I love you.
Multicoloured Butterflies
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Monday, June 4, 2012
Not Much to Say, But Much to Feel
So life get's rough. i think we all know that. but life is never
something to get rid of. what we all must remember is that life always
gives another chance. time after time. screw up after screw up. love
after love. heartbreak after heartbreak. if we keep going, we can always
start over. forget the past and move toward who you want to be, who you
need to be. and that's what i've been doing. i've been frustrated by
boys, school, the stress of poverty, and trying to be what others need
me to be. but i've come to realize that even if i am who THEY need me to
be, it's more important for me to be who I need me to be. even if my
only skill in life is making shakes, i'll move up in the world of
Braums. or even if my only skill was being a mom, i'd turn that into a
career in teaching, or maybe nannying. every tiny skill we have can
bring us up in life if we have the heart and the passion to do it. so
never forget that you are worth it, your life is worth living, and your
skills are worth exploring.
Friday, May 25, 2012
Me
i feel like nobody really knows me. i feel like sometimes, even i don't know me. when i tried to end my life yesterday, i didn't know who that was behind the wheel of that minivan. it wasn't me. it was some other crazy red headed girl screaming and crying about her life going down the drain. it was some other psychotic loser who pulled over and cried. it wasn't me. but i know how she feels and i wish i could help her. i'm scared of her. and scared for her.
the end.
the end.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
The Epitamy of Lack-of-Knowledge
I think that there's a moment in our
lives when we realize that we have no idea what we're doing. And none
of us really know where to go from there. So to keep from falling
into an unknown abyss, we keep going with whatever shot-to-hell plan
we had before we even started and end up in a place where we're
unhappy and resentful. Is there any way around this? I don't know.
I'm still at the rock bottom stage of the i-have-no-idea-what-I'm-doing stage of my life. It's very stressful.
Even to the point of suicidal-ism. But that's nothing new for me of
course. Major depressive with suicidal tendencies, that's my official
diagnosis. I attempted four times in the past. The only reason I
didn't attempt two days ago when I wanted to, was because I was too
lazy to get out of bed and get the knife. I wanted to so badly
though. I just kept sobbing and saying it over and over again, “i
wish I were dead, I wish I were dead.” I just wish there were a way
to do it that were painless and I could blame it on someone else.
That's why lately, when I cross the street, part of me just wants to
stop and let the next semi run me down. But even then, i'm scared of
answering for it in front of God. Maybe it's blasphemous to say this,
but I wish I could forget about God. All those people who don't know
him and who do stupid things, they have it so much easier than I do.
I live every day of my life for someone else who doesn't even answer
my questions half the time. And maybe i'm just not listening hard
enough. But the truth is, i'm just tired. Of life. Of everything. I'm
tired. I'm exhausted. I have constant bags under my eyes and an ache
in my back and a pain in my head. I'm frickin tired. And death is the
ultimate sleep. That's the equation in my head. Death= sleep, which
=less headaches and heartaches for me. But then I remember the good
times. And even though at this point in my depressive state, those
memories can't make me smile, they can help me to remember the
feeling of happiness. How good it is. And how much more of it there
is to come. Sometimes I just wonder if it's worth it though. It's so
hard being on my own, having a job that barely pays for anything,
having roommates who are so negative, a family that doesn't care
whether I make it or not in this world. I'm scared. Thats the truth
of it. What if I don't make it? What will happen to me? I can't move
back home or I WILL kill myself. I can't find any cheaper housing
than this. I can't get another, or a better, job until I get a car so
I can go across town, but I can't get a car until I get a better job.
I just don't know what to do. I'm lost. I'm walled in by
hopelessness. I can't find any optimism here. I just keep going day
by day, hoping that i'm on the right track, not knowing where this
track, or the next will lead me. I don't know which way is up and
which is down. I'm just.... floating. Flailing my arms helplessly,
trying so hard to see some light but being denied at every turn. I
don't know what to do. Where to go. Who to be. Nothing. I am the
epitamy of lack-of-knowledge. And it's lonely here. Sometimes I just
wish for the guts to be able to kill myself. Or to be more outgoing,
or to be able to do fucking anything. But I'm not, I don't have those
things. I'm a lazy, hopeless, sad, confused loser. And there is no
recovery from that.
looking back on this letter three weeks later, i feel very much the same
as i did when i wrote this. since i wrote this, i have cut myself. i
haven't attempted suicide, though the pull towards it is nearly
unbearable. two of my friends have committed suicide in the past two
weeks, and another died by a horrible accident. i can't imagine why it
is everyone in the world, it seems, is feeling so down. maybe it's
simply a ripple effect started by the first suicide four months ago in a
nearby town. maybe that suicide got people in the mood. all i know is
that i promised someone a long long time ago that i would never
willingly take my own life, and i'm not one to break my promises.
i've made lots of decisions since writing that last letter. i am leaving
my job, my college, my apartment, and my town. i am moving back into my
parents house at the age of 18. i am.... sad, i suppose. i feel a bit
like a failure. i'm scared that being in that environment will pull me
down even farther, but i know that the financial security that will come
with it is more valuable. i won't be paying rent or bills anymore. my
mom thinks she can help me get a job at a local elementary school as an
assistant teacher. that's a better paying job than i've ever had in my
life. maybe then i can finally buy a car. i'll save up enough money to
be able to get a really good start next year, or even next semester.
maybe i'll move into an apartment all by myself so i don't have needy,
negative roommates to answer to at the end of the day. who knows? life
can only go up from here. i hope.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Raphael and I
this is the greatest conversation two friends of mine ver had! love it~!!!!
visits Raphael's blog at www.stupiddecisionsanonymous.blogspot.com
visits Raphael's blog at www.stupiddecisionsanonymous.blogspot.com
- Raphael John Biltz
- Zippiddy doo da! Zippiddy Day!
- Sarah Packard
- my oh my what a wonderful day
- Raphael John Biltz
- Filled with marshmallows and strawberries and a neurotic unicorn named dave with an overbite the size of montana!
- Sarah Packard
- and a fairy named Christina who thinks she can sing every note of the sound barrier and a cartiloginious shark named freddy who eats veggies covered in cheese and preservatives.
- Raphael John Biltz
- And an imp with no name who tries to seduce inanimate objects, but never gets anywhere cuz she gets mad at them all "ignoring" her!
- Sarah Packard
- and a car who lost his hood ornament and is trying to find it amongst the craziness of this mad mad world!
- Raphael John Biltz
- But secretly the hood ornament is alive, and running for president with the slogan "Beer is Good."
- Sarah Packard
- and the republicans are trying to push him down for his erotic pose because they find it inappropriate for the children of England.
- Raphael John Biltz
- and the British PM, David Cameron (I think), has threatened to start a nuclear holocaust if Christina doesn't stop her annoying quasi-singing!
- Sarah Packard
- but alas she sings on against the termoil of the world, even tho she doesn't sound very good, and professes her love for the erotic hood ornament!
- Raphael John Biltz
- And the imp comes back from a week-long almost-orgy and starts her own bid for president under the slogan "sex=good, erotic hood ornaments=good, imps=better"
...it doesn't catch on.
- Sarah Packard
- and Christina and the imp are caught in an epic battle to the death as the cartiliginous shark named Freddy watches from the stands, eating his veggies and preservatives and puts his arm around Dave the unicorn, making his gay-wonderful-i-love-you-even-tho-you're-another-species-move!
- Raphael John Biltz
- Then Mr. Cameron says "to hell with it" and nukes the whole world.
Only the ornamentless car dies.
- Sarah Packard
- Christina and the imp are so struck that they cry at his funeral while Christina wails Amazing Grace and Freddy and Dave holds hands tightly as a flag is flown and the wind picks up, carrying ash and radioactivity from the site over them.
- Raphael John Biltz
- And, instead of party favors, the radiation gives every cancer and extra limbs.
- everyone*
- Sarah Packard
- and they can all hug each other even better now that they have more arms. and Freddy is no longer carteliginous and Dave is a two-horned unicorn and Christina can actually sing and the hood ornament loves her back and the imp is struck witha kind heart and voted president.
- Raphael John Biltz
- And as president, the Imp manages to persuade Congress to outlaw ornaments leaving their cars unatended, and the hood ornament is retroactively jailed for 17 years... with aSarah Packard
- and Christina weeps for her love and sings to him through the iron bars of his imprisonment, baking him cookies and puts notes of her love inside of them.
- Raphael John Biltz
- Then Freddy, being a shark, swims to the bottom of the ocean to find Atlantis, and bring back the fish people to conquer Canada.
THe Imp refuses to commit US troops to stop the invasion.
- Sarah Packard
- dave stays at home with their adopted cartiliginous horse babies and sews patches on the fish people uniforms. the hood ornament is smoggled out of jail by an underground tunnel and is pushed to the front to lead the fish peoples attack on the Canadians.
- Sarah Packard
- um um um.... the Canadian fish army, after wandering Quebec, begin to realize it's cold. so they steal a bear named Mona and high-tail it to the ocean.
- Raphael John Biltz
- Mona turns out to be an alien and takes control of Atlantis, the Fish people, and Freddy and opresses them with a thousand year reign of terror. Dave writes Freddy letters every month (he can't survive underwater... so he's still in Canada somewhere...)
- Sarah Packard
- over the thousand years of terror Dave takes their tiny horse babies and teaches them how to swim and breathe underwater and at the day the thousand years ends, he sends his children to challenge the Alien-Bear Mona to an epic battle to the death, for the City of Atlantis and for the Whole World!
- 16 minutes agoRaphael John Biltz
- Mona wins without breaking a sweat, and begins ANOTHER thousand year reign of terror.
But this time... over THE WHOLE WORLD!
- but but... carteliginous horse babies.....
they have a heart-wrenching funeral. Freddy has escaped some time during the epic battle and run to his love, Dave. they weep toegether and mourn their children. but this instills in their heart a new-found motivation to end Mona he alien-bears reign over their beloved planet.
- The Imp, by this time no longer president, the car and the hood ornament, Christina, and our entire cast (minus Mona and the fish people) get together in Kentucky to work out a plan. A plan to END Mona's reign. They have duct tape and mashed potatoes at their disposal... what else can they possibly need???
- Raphael John Biltz
- They drug his body along.
- it was rather gross
- Sarah Packard
- but the rest of them lead a frontal attack on Mona the evil bitch bear and killed her dead with mashed potatoes and duct tape. thus providing the world with a worthy tyrant, the dead car, who's body is gross.
- Raphael John Biltz
- But the dead car really stunk up the new world capitol, and so was soon replaced by Miss Piggy.
Who reigned with great fashion and suave for a thousand thousand years.
The End.
- Sarah Packard
- that's a great ending.
- Raphael John Biltz
- anything where Miss Piggy ends up ruling the world is a great ending
- Sarah Packard
- TRUE!
Monday, November 21, 2011
Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka
i know that everyone likes to throw stones at Westboro and boy would i like to too. but instead, i'm here to simply dispel some of their idiocies.
first; when i went on their website this morning i found a section titled 'god doesn't make bad things happen, mother nature and satan do.' i can quickly tell you something that makes this bogus. when Westboro came to MY church, i had a small chat with a few of it's members. i didn't get angry, i didn't shout (which was actually really hard for me) but what i said to a woman was this;
"how can you beleive that God hates anyone? God is all-merciful and he loves his children. he can't hate."
"God does hate. he smites the wicked and kills the f@#s. the soldiers deserve to die because God hates them."
"but how can you rationalize hate? god loves us, no matter what we've done wrong. he will always forgive us."
"oh but he'll never forgive those f@#s. never. they hate him. they are disgusting. they are unrighteous and god will kill them all."
all i ask is that if God doesn't make bad things happen, why would i hear this from the mouth of a Westboro member? this conversation goes on for a while where this woman basically just repeated herself indefinately and ended my questions by pushing her sign, which read 'your priest is a f@#', in my face and yelling that i was unjust.
so i walked around the circle of human-haters and came across a woman with two small children standing in front of her. these children were both under the age of 5 and were holding signs with unimaginable (to me) cruel things written on them. words i wouldn't ever want a 20 year old, let alone a 5 year old utter.
i said to this woman;
"do this child even know what this sign says?"
"of course not!" the woman said to me as if i were the crazy one here.
"then why is he holding it? how can he represent something he doesn't understand?"
"he is representing God, he understands that."
to which i nodded. it was a good point.
"but the truth is, God doesn't hate anyone. he would never kill anyone. he loves us."
"he may love me, but he doesn't love you."
"what have i done to deserve gods wrath?" i asked, surprised by the cruelty in her voice.
"you have fornicated, you are an unjust child of god, you have disrespected him in your dress!"
i looked down at myself. i was wearing a just-below-the-knee length dress that went all the way up to my neck. i looked back up at her.
"i am a virgin, i am wearing tasteful, respectful clothes to my church service where i worship a lord who loves, not hates. he has forgiven me for the things i've done, have you asked him to forgive you?"
"i don't need to be forgiven. God loves me."
"let he who has not sinned cast the first stone."
she glared at me and shouted something about soldiers dying. i was already walking away.
my point is this: Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka doesn't understand what they're talking about. if Mr. Phelps is gonna spend so much time educating them, he should at least be doing it right.
first; when i went on their website this morning i found a section titled 'god doesn't make bad things happen, mother nature and satan do.' i can quickly tell you something that makes this bogus. when Westboro came to MY church, i had a small chat with a few of it's members. i didn't get angry, i didn't shout (which was actually really hard for me) but what i said to a woman was this;
"how can you beleive that God hates anyone? God is all-merciful and he loves his children. he can't hate."
"God does hate. he smites the wicked and kills the f@#s. the soldiers deserve to die because God hates them."
"but how can you rationalize hate? god loves us, no matter what we've done wrong. he will always forgive us."
"oh but he'll never forgive those f@#s. never. they hate him. they are disgusting. they are unrighteous and god will kill them all."
all i ask is that if God doesn't make bad things happen, why would i hear this from the mouth of a Westboro member? this conversation goes on for a while where this woman basically just repeated herself indefinately and ended my questions by pushing her sign, which read 'your priest is a f@#', in my face and yelling that i was unjust.
so i walked around the circle of human-haters and came across a woman with two small children standing in front of her. these children were both under the age of 5 and were holding signs with unimaginable (to me) cruel things written on them. words i wouldn't ever want a 20 year old, let alone a 5 year old utter.
i said to this woman;
"do this child even know what this sign says?"
"of course not!" the woman said to me as if i were the crazy one here.
"then why is he holding it? how can he represent something he doesn't understand?"
"he is representing God, he understands that."
to which i nodded. it was a good point.
"but the truth is, God doesn't hate anyone. he would never kill anyone. he loves us."
"he may love me, but he doesn't love you."
"what have i done to deserve gods wrath?" i asked, surprised by the cruelty in her voice.
"you have fornicated, you are an unjust child of god, you have disrespected him in your dress!"
i looked down at myself. i was wearing a just-below-the-knee length dress that went all the way up to my neck. i looked back up at her.
"i am a virgin, i am wearing tasteful, respectful clothes to my church service where i worship a lord who loves, not hates. he has forgiven me for the things i've done, have you asked him to forgive you?"
"i don't need to be forgiven. God loves me."
"let he who has not sinned cast the first stone."
she glared at me and shouted something about soldiers dying. i was already walking away.
my point is this: Westboro Baptist Church of Topeka doesn't understand what they're talking about. if Mr. Phelps is gonna spend so much time educating them, he should at least be doing it right.
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