Keep breathing

I haven’t been around in a few days and that’s because I’ve been having a pretty hard time. I can’t really explain why…I can’t seem to understand and I am trying to be okay with NOT understanding but it’s difficult, it’s something a person wants to be able to do with everything is just to understand because that’s really all a person can do. When you can’t…its’s like you’re lost, and being lost is hard to deal with. 

My depression is building up and raging a storm inside of me. I don’t know how to stop it because I don’t understand. All I want for myself is to be happy, is that so much to ask? I just want to feel good and okay and at peace with myself and everyone. Why can’t that be something within my reach? Everyone should be given the opportunity to be always happy, always joyful and always free. 

Free, true freedom. That’s another talk, for another time that I can’t wait to have. 

I’m reaching out with my blog because I need help. My usual coping skills are slightly unreachable right now as I do not have the funds or the weather to use them, it must be the snow for I cannot for the life if me think of anything else. I wish I could control it, I’m sick of not being the one in charge and letting my emotions get the best of me. 

Does it really have to be that hard? It doesn’t make any logical sense to me. 

I want to live in the summer and take my board out every single day and relax in the warmth and the breezy sun and just cruise down empty streets, paved smooth like riding on butter. Move along life with nothing but the sun at my back and a beer in one hand and a joint/cigarette in the other, as I ride toward open ocean and the smell of salty, sea spray stinging my nose. What a life it would be, always a camera around my neck to snap the pictures coming into view because the opportunities are always there. 

I find it amazing how I can sit at my laptop and start writing and immediately feel so much better, what about you? How do you want to live, what do you want to do, where do you want to be? The perfect day, moment, lifetime, what is it? 

Down low

breathe it in

let it all out

that first inhale is bringing in everything good in the world, 

                                                                        in your life.

when you exhale, all the bullshit that ties up your brain and muddles your senses, 

                            just floats away on and endless cloud of smoke. 

tension massaged from your body

stress released with thc

the pain sought out from your whole being

just don’t forget to breathe.

~~~ ❤

Fitful Sleep

Nightmares are only dreams clouded in fear

I don’t know why it happens, sometimes I wish I knew. 

For when the nightmares come, so do the tears. 

My heart bleeds for a dream to fight away the pain.

When I wake up the pain is still there, right in the back of my mind. 

My body screams at me to fall back into a reverie. 

The fears weren’t done taunting me. 

I only wish for it all to go away, for the nightmares to recede into their caves. 

 

I Was Here

I Was Here

I was there, 

sitting on untrodden land

except by you, unseen life forms

I’m not sure what I had seen there, 

many things anew

many things so strange

new land is beautiful

because you don’t know what it means. 

 

The Guilt that Haunts Me

The Guilt that Haunts Me

First cut 

First hit

First sip

First pill            

                    open gate 

                    painted walls

                    broken window                    

                    lock undone

First cut

First hit

First sip

First pill                    

                     car door opened

                     few things stolen

                     one guy yelled

                    running caught

 

One regret hits the heart

No regrets for me

                                                           guilt

                                                           pain 

                                                           hurt 

                                                           fear 

Lungs full, weighed down, no escapes are left 

I’m drowned. 

Weekly Writing Challenge: Ghosts of December 23rds Past

Weekly Writing Challenge: Ghosts of December 23rds Past

A day of my past into an insignificant future. 

My past is such a struggle, its painful to remember, painful to relive. 

The day that comes to mind, is pure torture. 

When I was little, my mom wanted me and my siblings to see my dad one last time before he was sent away for years to come. The problem was someone found out. They didn’t like my moms’ last desperate resort. 

I was put in foster care with my twin and the rest of us were spread out by themselves. 

It was one night, only some sort of a 24 hour time period, but it was hell. 

I was so small, and I felt so alone. I had only my sister to comfort me and she was in a comforting mood. We sat, cuddled up together, under a table for hours, crying, until we fell asleep. We forced to eat spaghetti, of all things, for dinner and to this day I can no longer eat that saucy covered pasta. 

My mom was able to pull me out of the system, throwing out her own fears and helplessness for the court to see, a desperate housewife being evicted from her home, with no money, no job, a husband being tossed into prison for the pain he put into my family. We had nowhere to go and she had never been on her own before. (Let alone with 6 kids on her hands.) 

Her utter desperation is what released her kids from . . . ultimate daycare let’s call it.

When we got home, we were never really home. We had to move around, living with different people, never on our own. Never with daddy again. 

I saw him, a few visits to the prison visiting center but it was never satisfying. He never seemed to want to see me, he pushed me away. 

Even so, he wrote letters and drew pictures and made cards; even got a few phone calls here and there. 

One thing I remember most, is being signed up for Angel Tree. There would be a family who would call my mom during Christmas time and every kid would make a list. That family would buy the things we put on our list and say they were from daddy. 

Every year, we would get the call. 

Every year, we would wait for a delivery to out door. 

Every year, we would have the special tags, they were shaped as a tree with Angel Tree written on the top, “from daddy”.

Every year, we would open them on Christmas eve. 

Every year, disappointment rang when my daddy didn’t come home for Christmas. 

 

 

Daily Post: Interplanet Janet

Daily Post: Interplanet Janet

A regae color swooshed into tie dye

spinning and spinning until 

                                         still

depression nonexistent

happy-go-luck

                                           pro-life

sunny and warm

                   light

                              airy

                                            peaceful

no death

no sadness

no hurt

no pain

                               only COLOR

calming herbs

spark it up~~~~

cloud over                     harm

                                                     foggy flame,

                                                             foggy world.

Scooby Dooby Doo

I have never, in my life, seen someone get the munchies as bad as my man shaggy.

Shaggy and Scooby are just straight gone through the whole damn show. 

I mean, HOLY FUCK, niggas be chowin’ down every sight of food they get. 

Society

I realize that I literally just posted, but I got all fired up with that and I have some more I would like to say. 

I rant, a lot. There is just so much pent up aggression inside my tiny body and I have a lot to say. 

My fire was born when I was little, I got it from my dad. (Mine just might be a little bit more tamed to say the least.)

It’s fed by this dumb ass thing we call life. 

Society fills that life up. 

I’m sick of society. 

We started out as a hardworking people. We were more advanced than anybody, always moving forward, working to make our lives better, easier, simpler. 

I think we just got too good at it. 

Our lives are too easy now and we take all of that for granted. We have given over the lead to Europe and Asia, let go of the reins and became worthless pigs only looking for a good time and a burger. 

Nobody tries anymore. Americans have given up hope on life and just stopped caring. The smallest struggle becomes the world and a reason for suicide. The tiniest mistake becomes a hammer to the face and a reason for that first cut. 

All the worst things have become a new “fad” to the public eye. 

Cutting, suicide, and depression are NOT fads. 

Depression is a serious condition, in which the brain has a chemical imbalance and does not function like the regular human being.

Those of you out there throwing your bloody arms out for the world because you don’t have enough attention, are the ones who have given those with a real medical condition a bad name.

There are people out there, so deep into pain and sadness that they just can’t function and truly believe that life on earth is unbearable.  They will lie in wake, struggling to the point where they can’t differentiate reality from dreams/nightmares and slice open their wrists to feel alive again and find some sort of solid ground. 

Then there are those, who lie. They just lie in bed and find boredom. They are so genuinely bored, that they decide to be depressed. They tell people that they are “just done” and need to die because no one cares about them and they show them the cuts on their arm for proof. They take pictures of the blood beading up on their skin and post them to tumblr and instagram, hoping for some kind of sympathy and security that they’re not going insane, they’re just “depressed”.

If you were depressed, then you would get your ass out of bed and get professional help and not sit there, ripping your arms to shreds  and put the pictures on social media hoping for people to give you some goddamn attention. 

Cutting is not an excuse, it’s a problem. 

Suicide is not a show-stopper, it’s an escape. 

Now, I’m not talking to those of you who hid the fact that you were so upset you felt the need to release yourself from mental pain, I’m not talking to those of you who got help for your issues.

I’m talking to the ones who dragged problems into their lives for an excuse to get some freaking attention, because god-knows you don’t have enough of that. 

Living color

Christmas is coming.

The most over used, cliche, fucked over, holiday we have. (That and Easter, Thanksgiving, Halloween, 4th of July, etc.)

Every holiday that has come into America’s existence has been changed to the force of money.

Christmas came into being to celebrate the fact that the savior, Jesus Christ, was born to earth to die for life’s sins. It was a holiday meant for giving, for showing love to your loved ones without greedy wants coming in to play. Then came along good old human life and what did we do? We went and ruined it.

Christmas is now for getting presents instead of giving, for decorating the Christmas tree and putting out cookies for Santa and not our Savior.

Even those of you who don’t believe, because you don’t have to and even I have struggles with it, even you have ruined Christmas to greed.

The society has put up Santa all throughout the Christmas season so that parents “can’t disappoint their kids and tell them that Santa isn’t real”

Santa’s not real. There is no magical being up in the North Pole handing out toys to greedy little kids. All you’re doing, is making your children believe in some made up Christmas representation, only to crush their tiny dreams later and tell them that he’s not actually real, we just made you think so because we thought it would be cute to put you on Santa’s fake ass lap and watch you cry.