Slow Decay

The digital clock ticks in time with the beating of my heart. My nieces are upstairs yelling as children often do. I find myself at a stand still. A quiet silence settles in this loud bedroom, my mind racing.

Where am I going?

It is the year two thousand and nine. I am twenty three years old with a Bachelor’s degree in Art. When I was a small child I thought that I would be so successful, that I would be something my parents were to be proud of. I wanted to be better than the rest. Life had just begun. So much lay before me in a bright, glittering future. There were jobs to be had, people to meet and love, marriage, a family. Just so much.

I work as a hostess/waitress at my family’s restaurant making enough money to store away. No rent to speak of, some bills to pay, no friends close enough to go out with. The person I spend the most time with is my eldest sister. My other sister lives in Massachusetts with her boyfriend, doing what she studied to do. My brother, well, his lack of common sense destroyed his family ties. We hardly see him anymore. Mother and father grow older with each passing moment. Tears come to my eyes whenever I think about their future down the line. Most of my time is either spent working or in front of the computer, playing games. My boyfriend is really the only person who can truly make me laugh anymore.

Everything is a lie.

Time is passing before me like pieces of dust in a shaft of light. I have no urge, no will. When I try, the monsters lift their heavy bodies to crush my decaying one. So much to do. So little freedom to do it in. My own insecurities will be the end of me.

All I ever wanted was approval. All I received was a mind plagues with sadness and doubt. I am a begin begotten by sorrow.

What have I become…

Milk Duds with Parachutes

I'm an old lady and I may have swallowed a fly.

I could go on with the rest of the song, but nostalgia is not that strong tonight.

Bummer.

I found this image of David Tennant playing Doctor Who on the LoLcats website.

Sometimes I wish life was this silly. Usually when it is, there is a nasty backlash we all get stuck into.

Youth

I never realized how young I was until one night, in the dimmed lighting of the restaurant, I watched my cousin cry as she told us a story.

That was the first time tears trickled down her cheeks before me.

Walking in Wonderland

Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.
Same shit different day.

I'm held captive by myself.

Coming?

“So, you coming home for Christmas?”
You shake your head at me and I frown, hoping that I judged the head shake wrong.
“What the hell is that? A yes or a no?”
“That’s a negative.”
Why aren’t I surprised?
“Why not?”
“You know the reason why I am not coming home for Christmas.”
Yeah.
I know.
“That’s a silly reason not to come home.”
You remain silent.
I keep myself from ripping you a new one.
“You –know- it’s a silly reason.”
Are you even listening to me, your baby sister?
“You should come home.”
You look at me.
I know there is sadness etched in my face.
You look away.
Yeah.
Fuck you too.

Mother Dear

My dearest Mother,

It’s been a while since I talked to you, so I think now is a good time to sit down and have a chat. In the twenty-three years of my life, I never expected things to turn out this way. I always thought that you would never change, that there would never be warnings of your demise. Polar ice caps melting, the ozone layer blowing up. A lot of these things tend to set off red flags in my mind; hell it even got to the point where we as a human race have to constantly check the status of the water with a filter attached to the faucet. Who knew?

What I want more than anything, my Mother, is to be able to heal you with a single touch. A single caress that will let you know everything is going to be alright and that you no longer have to toss and turn in your sleep with worry. You would no longer have to ask yourself as you lay yourself down in the warmth of yourself, am I going to wake up tomorrow? You no longer would have to watch as the fields you worked so hard to create shrivel and pass into darkness. Yet, I can’t do that, at least not in the immediacy that I speak of.

It will take days, weeks, months and years to return everything to the way you had it. Mother dear, I will try my best to sort your house back into order. I will try my best to pick up the pieces and put them back into place, to bandage the dents and heal the harms. Alone, it will take more than a lifetime, but I think I can persuade a few friends to help me put right the wrongs we have caused.

Thanks for listening to me for a few minutes and know that I will do my best to make things good again for you. Just rest your tired feet and let me tuck you in for a change with a cup of tea and your favorite book in tow. Relax and let me handle the rest, Mother dear.

I love you.