Was that the fastest month ever? The NBA and NHL finals were over two weeks ago. Seems likes two days ago. Even the Charleston shooting was a dozen days ago. So many old TV and movie stars were still alive at the beginning of this month and while they're still in our minds, we all await the next loss. It's not morbid curiosity, but it's the world we live in. Social media makes tragedy seem like a daily meal, as we wash the dishes, we're already thinking of the next one and what to have with it.
A month ago, I didn't have a cat. A month ago, I was a lot less happy as I am now and that scares me. Without this cat, I have pretty much two things that make me happy. My private conversations with those who make me laugh and movies. They are the only two things I seem to have left that bring me any kind of joy and yet, I'm not complaining. Apparently, my problems are nothing to those who air all their dirty laundry on Facebook. Mothers and fathers, who by all rights, should probably have their children taken away. Anyone insane enough to post as much negativity about their lives, probably shouldn't be in charge of children. Narcissism is one thing, but when it starts to seep into patterns of the children being sick, it frightens me. These are the tell signs we always read about when some crazy parents drowns their kids in a tub or drives their car into a lake. It's terrifying to think of. I've held that phone many a time, but I know all too well how CPS will react. Facebook isn't enough proof.
So I try and block out the negativity and I feast on the daily messages from my friends who make me happy. Many, who hide problems much greater than mine, but feel comfortable enough to share. Their secrets are safe. I hope they know. I value their friendships much more than they can imagine. I often wonder how people who were part of my life and I theirs, go on every day without me. I don't mean that in a conceited way, but I know the lack of seeing two friends, maybe once a week has given me worry. Worry, because we were close and each value close friends. I do love them, even if they don't know it and I fail miserably at showing it. This month has gone by so quickly, it never dawned on me it's been a month since I've spoken to anyone on the phone. It's been a month since my brother returned and yet we've spoken only once, for seconds, if that.
Life is not short. I've said before, it's an incredibly monotonous journey and sadly we spend more time doing things out of necessity than pleasure and that is where we fail as a species. We are so worried about the end game, we fail to play this one. Sure some think they do, but can you imagine their lives. Can you imagine waking at 5AM and the entire day being about making sure nothing comes between you and your defined abs? Can you imagine eating a meal made out of byproducts and food dried into a powder, because you believe it's natural? So many of these people kid themselves and believe that 30 years of living a normal, maybe even reckless life, can be turned around by going for a run and eating salad. Nobody I know who has endured has ever thought twice about what they did to their bodies and that might just be the secret. I don't mean any disrespect to those who might think I'm jealous of their "V" or their leg press, but I've known very few people who are obsessed with their appearance, who don't suffer from huge esteem issues and emotional problems that border on manic. I actually worry about these people, because they are an injury or simply age creeping up on them, away from battling depression. I speak from experience.
A 100 year old woman, swished a scotch in between her teeth and gums, she pretended to smoke a cigarette, as she had for 75 years of her life and she asked what was for dessert. She then nibbled her grilled cheese, dripping in butter and said "Life is really long and I've lived it." Maybe June wasn't so quick and for a change, I just lived it. We'll see. I'm not even at the halfway point of what she experienced and without sending out any false cries. I've had enough of this one, because I lived it. I don't want to keep repeating it for another 45 years, because if I have to, I'll be hoping for a lot more months like June.
A month ago, I didn't have a cat. A month ago, I was a lot less happy as I am now and that scares me. Without this cat, I have pretty much two things that make me happy. My private conversations with those who make me laugh and movies. They are the only two things I seem to have left that bring me any kind of joy and yet, I'm not complaining. Apparently, my problems are nothing to those who air all their dirty laundry on Facebook. Mothers and fathers, who by all rights, should probably have their children taken away. Anyone insane enough to post as much negativity about their lives, probably shouldn't be in charge of children. Narcissism is one thing, but when it starts to seep into patterns of the children being sick, it frightens me. These are the tell signs we always read about when some crazy parents drowns their kids in a tub or drives their car into a lake. It's terrifying to think of. I've held that phone many a time, but I know all too well how CPS will react. Facebook isn't enough proof.
So I try and block out the negativity and I feast on the daily messages from my friends who make me happy. Many, who hide problems much greater than mine, but feel comfortable enough to share. Their secrets are safe. I hope they know. I value their friendships much more than they can imagine. I often wonder how people who were part of my life and I theirs, go on every day without me. I don't mean that in a conceited way, but I know the lack of seeing two friends, maybe once a week has given me worry. Worry, because we were close and each value close friends. I do love them, even if they don't know it and I fail miserably at showing it. This month has gone by so quickly, it never dawned on me it's been a month since I've spoken to anyone on the phone. It's been a month since my brother returned and yet we've spoken only once, for seconds, if that.
Life is not short. I've said before, it's an incredibly monotonous journey and sadly we spend more time doing things out of necessity than pleasure and that is where we fail as a species. We are so worried about the end game, we fail to play this one. Sure some think they do, but can you imagine their lives. Can you imagine waking at 5AM and the entire day being about making sure nothing comes between you and your defined abs? Can you imagine eating a meal made out of byproducts and food dried into a powder, because you believe it's natural? So many of these people kid themselves and believe that 30 years of living a normal, maybe even reckless life, can be turned around by going for a run and eating salad. Nobody I know who has endured has ever thought twice about what they did to their bodies and that might just be the secret. I don't mean any disrespect to those who might think I'm jealous of their "V" or their leg press, but I've known very few people who are obsessed with their appearance, who don't suffer from huge esteem issues and emotional problems that border on manic. I actually worry about these people, because they are an injury or simply age creeping up on them, away from battling depression. I speak from experience.
A 100 year old woman, swished a scotch in between her teeth and gums, she pretended to smoke a cigarette, as she had for 75 years of her life and she asked what was for dessert. She then nibbled her grilled cheese, dripping in butter and said "Life is really long and I've lived it." Maybe June wasn't so quick and for a change, I just lived it. We'll see. I'm not even at the halfway point of what she experienced and without sending out any false cries. I've had enough of this one, because I lived it. I don't want to keep repeating it for another 45 years, because if I have to, I'll be hoping for a lot more months like June.
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