I Used To Think

I used to think and now I just don’t.
I used to come up with a lot of cool ideas, bring dead flies back to life with my imagination and talk to fish in my sleep.
Now I just don’t.
I used to think stars were the eggs of the future and they would hatch when they would fall from their incubator space and make humans when they landed on baseball fields.

The one thing I could think of to think of now, is the difference in the last post and this one. The title is the same. But the content is different. How easy not to think what we are thinking about what we are reading.

How easy to form an idea on the title of a post. And be completely wrong. Only because we thought it.

I used to think, but sometimes it’s easier if I don’t.

Life, I Choose You

You know that quote that goes something like this,: ‘ Don’t take life seriously, no one ever gets out alive anyways’.
How many times do you hear something but you don’t really understand it or believe it?
Well now, I finally get that statement.

I guess my crumple was not the idea of whether to live or die, but figuring out that I wouldn’t end my life. That I couldn’t do it.
So when I came to that conclusion I thought, well if I’m gonna be here, I’d be a little worthless big shit if I’m gonna make it miserable. And then I thought, Well, is it that easy, to make it fun and happy and create a life like that of when I was younger. That felt full of.. life?

And I thought long and hard. I was conflicted. I mean, life was always easy to me. Even the times I went through break ups or sad times, I was back up on my feet running. I was resilient because I had attention and people that I distracted myself with.

But then it covered me in a paste. Simple,rugged facts.

No, life is not easy.
I looked down on my brothers for taking medication to make them feel better about living.  Life is easy and fun. See?  Look at me?

And then,
I’m the one falling. I’m trying to get ground and I’m only slipping and falling down again and screaming at myself to a wall and hating and regretting my decisions and sad all over again because I was the one that was screaming at the wall

because of ME.

And I thought after my lungs were scratched and crisp, that if i could produce that much agony over the past that couldn’t be tampered with now, I could be that beautifully vengeful for my future that had yet to exist. That if i had the power to be that upset over my life thus far, I could be that happy for a life to come.

I may not have the attention I used to have. I may not have the people, the events, the three day weekends of drinking Vex and playing video games with my closest.. but I have love and life. I have choice. I have the power to become who I want to be, every single day. Being sad isn’t going to get me anywhere I want to go. Being sorry for my sadness doesn’t get me anything except a life not lived. I’m not 19 and I can’t go back to that. I refuse to want to anymore. Life is now. With me.

You don’t figure life out, it figures you out.
You don’t try and find life, you create it.

You don’t let life fucking kill you- because it will if you let it- you let life be like, ‘ hey now, there’s a fucking liver of beautiful.’

 

 

 

On You

Float it on the outside. Wrap it securely and keep yourself in check. Make moments to be aware so that you can always self improve. And be open to many subjects but have opinions and stand your ground. Have sand sift through your fingers. You don’t have to look but feel for diamonds. And hold onto those gems. Whether it’s people, ideas, or thoughts
-and float them on the outside.

I Struggle with Myself

I’m a bit lost these days. What does one do? I guess I never thought I would be in this situation because I’ve been pretty darn great at keeping myself happy. But it is a new low.
When you know you can be better in your relationship, when you know the things you need to do, but you have no will to do them? When you know you are capable of being happier and you are focused on what you think you need but deep down you know that you need to fix what you are in.
You need to fix what you are in because right now, it is fixable.
But it is the most scariest thing I have ever been a part of because it deals with my child and my marriage and I now, after only so long, I realise I am not fit to be commitable. I can’t do it. I run. I have run all my life out of relationships.From people that have wanted to marry me. From people that would have done so much to keep me.
Little things irritate me and I have been able to run because of all the others out there.
Even now, they are there. But it has taken this long for these things to add up, about him. About the guy I married. It has taken this long, four years, for even the tiniest bit of running thought, to enter. And I wonder, why the hell now.
I am so far removed from this situation. I’m already out and I don’t want to be in. But I feel pressed to be and we started documents today to move to Canada and I know I am supposed to talk to him and say everything and spill it all, but I am Running Women, I have been doing it all my life and this is where it gets me. To here. To a dead end. Because I know I will not be happy. I am doing this to him and to myself. To our son.
And I feel so messed up. There is noone I have. No best friends. Noone to talk to.
I’ve got myself here,
How do I get myself out ?

Benefits With Baby Abroad

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Having a baby away from all your friends and family, in a different country where the culture is not at all simliar than your own, is bad.
And good.
It is bad for the obvious reasons that Uncles and Aunts and Grandparents do not get to create a bond and watch him grow. It is bad that my friends don’t get to be a part of this wonderful light in my life and it is bad because I get less breaks and time for myself.
But good.
Good becomes of this because there has be to good in everything. Even if we don’t see it.
I read online about other Mothers feeling judged and getting advice flung at them in all directions in the Western countries.
Here, I get none of that stuff. I live my own life, raising my child the way I want to and I don’t feel judged even though we get stared at everytime we go out. Some are bold enough to come up and touch his hands and his feet and sometimes they even touch his face. Which is always the time I bat their hands away. In Canada, maybe there would be more personal space awareness and maybe there would be less people that actually stare.

But my realisation and joy of raising Zeek here has flourished into this field of prosperous blooms! I am understanding that even though it sucks being away from my homeland, there are so many benefits to being here.

We’ve all got our rules and our own ideas about how to raise our children. Since Thailand is a slow-paced life and people are patient and wouldn’t give dirty looks if child screams in restuarant, I feel that having my first child here, really is a positive thing.
I choose to look at it this way not just because I have to be in this situation, but because the field I’m in smells wonderful and I want to be able to plant whatever seeds are growing here, further on, in and around my life.

Names that Don’t Wear Flipflops

If someone was talking about you and your best friend to someone else, whose name would come first? Would it be Jack and Lisa? or Lisa and Jack?

When you hear your mom talking to Aunt Liz on the phone about how you and your boyfriend are going to Cuba next week, whose name comes first? Yours or his?

You see, there’s a pattern.

Often times it starts where most things…do.

The beginning.
Bert and Ernie were always Bert and Ernie, right? How often do you hear Ernie and Bert?

Take Will and Grace or Mary-Kate and Ashley. It’s rarely said the other way around.

And Calvin and Hobbes?
What about Chip and Dale or Bonnie and Clyde?

Why do you think this is?
What is the significance of these un-flip-floppy names?
Any ideas?