11 3 / 2014
All my heartfelt support to the the twenty-somethings out there who are stuck working some stressful, dead-end job that makes them cry at the end of the day. Just remember that if the job gets too abusive, don’t quit right away. You don’t want to be jobless and have all the student loans/financial responsibilities in the world. Find another job first and then give your two weeks notice.
10 3 / 2014
"I say that humans are the only ones in this world that need everything within it. But there is nothing in this world that needs us for its survival. We aren’t the masters of the Earth. We’re the servants."
09 3 / 2014
What does it feel like to come home and not cry about how shitty your job is?
Please someone enlighten me on that feeling.
So glad someone understands.
07 3 / 2014
"You teach people how to treat you by what you allow, what you stop, and what you reinforce."
Isn’t this victim blaming? I’m pretty sure that I didn’t teach anyone to treat me like a pig just because I was overweight as a kid. Like I’m 100 percent positive that some bullies are going to harass and assault a victim regardless of how much the victim tries to speak up for themselves. The fact that the victim is speaking up for themselves can also be a trigger for the bully to act act crueler. And this is coming from my own experience.
07 3 / 2014
I promised myself I would never look back. To keep moving forward would be my life’s purpose now. There is no choice in this. Put one foot ahead of the other, and look as far ahead as my eyes would allow. I will pick the furthest point within my eyesight and will call that place my new dream; my new home. There is nothing left for me in this land of blood and honey. No more special moments to be held on this earth upon which I was created.
After the deaths of my family, I was taken in by a neighbor. She was a friend of my mother’s, I believe. I would often see my mother stop to speak to her at the market. I believe her name was Kamala. She was kind enough to bring me my meals in bed while I refused to leave the room she had given me in her small home. She had lost her own husband and son in a bombing that occurred last year. She was alone in this house now. I should have been grateful, but being in her presence made my stomach sick.
By the way she would creep into my room at night, and whisper her son’s name into my ear, I could tell that she wanted me as a replacement. She wanted me to fill the void in her heart, like the one that was so painstakingly fresh in mine.
I barely acknowledged her though. I barely saw anything around me. I couldn’t. All I could see and breathe was fire, smoke, and the burning of flesh.
I wasn’t even there for the cremations. My mother, father, and brother, all spread among the wind before I could even awake. They thought they were doing me a service, preventing me from witnessing their final rites. But this was the greatest wound of all. For I would have gladly tossed myself into the fires of death, if it would just let me feel the embrace of my father again, or the sweetness of my mother’s lips on my forehead.
There will be none of that now.
A year from now, there will be a boat leaving for Thailand, and then on to Canada. That boat will carry me from here, and on to a new life absent of death.
I won’t look back, not even once.