Sarcasm at it's very finest is portrayed in today's post...
Let's use my amazing list-making skills and gloss over what has happened and what you're about to read
(..then you can decide if you just wanna read the list or the actual post. Convenient).
1. Monday bought a brand new breakdown that went entirely unnoticed.
2. My uncle died and we all pretended everything was okay. (a fine art we have
perfected in this house)
3. They're going to the funeral. I am not invited.
4. In relation to #3; she's leaving on mothers day and therefore leaving me here. By myself.
5. There is no #5 (...I have this thing about numbers. It would probably take another 10 blog posts to explain it. But there has to be a 5, basically)
It takes me a while to process things and I don't fully process anything that's happened until a time has come where I can just sit, thinking freely.
Considering I barely leave the house, have no job, friends or career you'd think that was simple.
But there's a storm in my head. And you have to wait for it to pass before you dare tempting fate.
Do you really wanna step out just to be struck by lightning?
You don't. I hear it hurts.
I don't have the clearest of minds. Things pass slowly through the day. They linger. Like clouds.
And at night, it's kinda like a motorway. Things are speeding past. And you catch glimpses of them and hope to hell there's no car crashes.
It's always busy, day and night. The only thing that changes is the speed.
And you have to decide whether it's easier to sit and think when it's slow and busy. Or fast and busy.
Because there's definitely no in between.
I crossed a motorway once when I was a kid.
We were homeless, momentarily living in a motel and my dad worked on the other side of the motorway.
Sitting down and thinking about things is like crossing that motorway.
I had to do it, to get to the other side. But there wasn't a single moment I thought I'd make it across.
Everything's so much bigger when you're a kid. And motorways are big anyway.
I have to sit down and think about things to process them. But do I really want to
add more things to my mind or visit my current state of mind? Not really, no.
So it happens at night. Usually when I can't sleep. I have to occupy my mind when I can't sleep otherwise
negativity goes round and round and round until it feels like the storm is coming back for good.
After a few hours, things get processed and I'm either exhausted or pissed off.
Sometimes pissed off that I'm exhausted.
When something happens... it happens, I feel whatever I feel momentarily, then I try and forget about it. And move on.
Except I don't move on. Or forget it. I just talk myself into thinking that's happened.
I don't think about it. I don't process it. I don't confront it.
It manifests in my mind.
It gets put in a much-taller-than-me pile of 'feelings you need to process'
that I try and shove under the rug until one day I trip over it.
The short version is... I internally exploded on monday because nothing was processed.
The internet then died and I cried for about 4 hours straight and went to sleep at 1:30am.
After all that, no one batted an eye lid and it's as though nothing even happened.
Which frustrated me even further.
I'm bitter.
My mother is leaving on Mother's Day and coming back fuck knows when.
The only thing she is bothered by is that it's Mother's Day,
not that she is leaving me here, by myself, when she fully knows I hate the very idea of it.
But I expected this. And I accept it more than her going away in May.
She's going to my uncle's funeral and I know that's something she has to do.
And I didn't expect to be invited to a funeral for someone I never knew.
So I won't be fighting this battle.
I can't fight the 'she's going away in may to visit my sister and leaving me here. Again' battle either.
It's not even a battle. To fight you need at least two people. And she is so completely oblivious.
This family is screwed. I swear.
It's like it's an invite only club and I never get the invite - Which is stupid because believe it or not
I'm actually a part of this family.
Or getting locked out of your own house and knocking on the door but no one lets you in (this has happened).
How does this family even work? I'm unsure we even do work. We're corrupt.
We're several different pieces from different puzzles and when you try to put us together it just doesn't work.
So, she's leaving. Twice.
And right now all I can do is hope every day she's gone isn't like last Monday.
If it is, I'm screwed.
The balance shifts when she's not here.
I purposely try to balance for her sake. I don't know why.
xo
F.H
She belongs in the clouds, she told me once and I never forgot,
She is only at home when on airplanes,
High up in the sky,
Only content when clouds are in view,
When she’s the same height as them,
Sitting in a cramped space, looking out of a small window,
Looking down on the world, eye level with a cloud,
A free spirit’s work is never done,
And she is gone again,
To seek is to be free,
She is free only when she is not here,
She is caged, contained and trapped by this sad, empty town,
Dragging her small, bare feet up and down the cold pavement,
She knows in her heart they were not made to walk this road,
She finds herself looking up at the not so blue sky,
Wishing on airplanes as they make white lines in the sky,
So near, yet so far,
Our souls are separate now,
Not just by miles, for souls are always together,
I am a lost soul, she is a free soul,
Perhaps I was blinded when the light hit her eyes,
Like when sunlight hits the ocean and diamonds appear on the waves,
It’s not real, you can see it with the widest eyes, but there’s no truth,
Sight deceives you,
It was just wishful thinking,
If love is blind, are souls blind?
She is somewhere far away,
I hope somewhere where the clouds are near to her,
Or where the sun is shining on her, enhancing her, enchanting her soul,
Bringing her back to life,
I hope she is dancing freely and gracefully, and her toes are sinking into
millions of tiny grains of warm sand,
She is everywhere, all at once,
She is the airplane making too much noise when you just want peace,
She is the line in the sky you compare to a silver lining because you didn't see the plane,
She is every blue sky,
And every ray of sun,
At her best, she is summer at it’s very peak,
When everyone’s happy and nothing is wrong,
I have not lost her,
I am lost and she is free,
And that’s the way it was always meant to be.
- “She Is (part II) // F. H
