Where Are We Going?

Why can’t I just worry about my own shitty life and my shitty problems.
Why do I have to sit here and worry about how lonely my parents are and try to make them happy and feel better.
I shouldn’t have to go out of my way, with my ZERO DOLLARS, to drive three hours to spend thanksgiving with my mom, and I shouldn’t feel like I can’t say no.
I shouldn’t have to make sure I text my dad every other day to make sure he doesn’t feel like all of his children hate him and like no one loves him anymore.
Yes, shitty things have happened to him.
But if I can handle all of their shit and my own, I think they can handle their shit.
I just want to worry about my family and our problems and how we are going to afford the next week, 2 weeks, Christmas. Everything.
We are losing our home soon, and I don’t know if we can even afford to rent a real apartment. We could be homeless, or wait listed for section 8. Who knows. I don’t. Because I don’t have time to worry about it, because I have to make sure my parents aren’t offended by me and make sure they are happy.

Why can’t I just have my own life. Why do I care at all.

hellanne:

Henna (by Urvesh P)

hellanne:

Henna (by Urvesh P)

Matching name couples make me a little nauseous lol

I.e.:

Joe & Jo ( I just saw a couple on wheel of fortune lol)

Taylor & Taylor

Sam & Sam.

Too many to count. I mean, by all means I really don’t care, but when I think about it it’s just too cutesy lol

Ok. I have some things to say to a few people that I can’t actually say to them lol

Also, be forewarned, I’m going to sound really mean and shallow and judgmental.

Stop posting pictures of yourself awkwardly “seductively” looking at the camera and commenting about how awesome it is that you’re single now. You’re a relationship whore, and you’ll be dating some other whigger in a week.

You’re way too old to be dolling yourself up just to take MySpace pictures of yourself and putting them on Instagram.

I’m not going to your keggar, I don’t even live in the same state as you anymore, and I have no desire to see you again or your scummy girlfriend.

You are a self absorbed prick and everything you said to me was a lie. Fuck you.

I can’t stand your extreme republican views. You sound like an old man. I wish I was smart and quick-witted enough to say something to you, but I don’t want to defriend you lol or be defriended by you. I don’t really know why.

You are so naive.
I’m younger than you and I feel like I’m 1647482 times more experienced than you.
Babies are not marriage savers and they’re not all sunshine and daisies. I hope you aren’t shell-shocked by the reality of motherhood. I really hope it’s everything you imagined it to be and all cake and ice cream and rainbows like you seem to think. You’d be in a very lucky, very small percentage of women.

I’m tired of seeing you everywhere. I don’t understand why you think your life is as interesting and important as you do.
As my grandpa says (lol) why are you so important that I need to know where you are at this very second?

You are a selfish asshole bitch.
How can you look at your son and say “I know this is hard for you, but you need to calm down.”
You gave it, what, 2 months before you brought a new man into your life?
What was it that even made you decide to leave him in the first place? He didn’t agree with the way you’ve been raising your horribly behave children? He said something against your lazy “friendship” parenting and you didn’t like it?
So ok, it makes total sense to completely turn your 9 year old sons life completely upside down for the next muscular scummy dumbass that comes along because he doesn’t try to raise your kids.
And his kids all smoke and drink and are all under 18. That’s good. Great values.
I love the aroma of pot just emanating through the household. I love it that I’m laying here in bed next to my 11 month old daughter smelling fucking weed at 1140 at night.
I don’t care what you do with your lives, as long as they don’t effect mine. But guess what, they are BECAUSE I LIVE IN YOUR GODDAMN HOUSE.
Motherfuckers.
And not only that, but I feel really horrible for my dad. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like this. Fucking bitch.
But thanks for the free haircut.

bitterbites:

I just came

But why doesn’t he take them off.

I’m so sick of being so fucking lonely.

I wait all day just to see my boyfriend and when he comes home all he cares about is playing video games, playing with his phone or sleeping.

And I’m just so fucking lonely.

Nausea - 98863678, Me - 0
So bored.

I’m wide awake and everyone is asleep.
Yay to the (almost) end of breastfeeding tho! My boobs are thanking me haha
It’s so nice to have Lilly fall asleep without me having to be in pain. Tho, sometimes she wakes up early in the morning and I’ll nurse her once. She gets out of control crying and sometimes I just don’t know what else to do.
And the doctor told me that the only way to end the nursing was to end the co-sleeping. Bullshit! No way was I going to tackle both of those obstacles at once anyway. I think I would be ripping my hair out.
So this is night #3 of her falling asleep without aid of the boob. Once two weeks is up we’ll work on putting her in a toddler bed that grandma (my mon) is buying her(: and then I’ll finally get (hopefully) longer stretches of uninterrupted sleep :D

On another uninteresting note, I found some delicious sounding crock pot recipes and plan on trying some out. I do not cook, and my friend has recently been raving about hers and how easy it makes life, and I’m thinking this could be an awesome thing for me lol
I’m really excited, because we really need to start having more legitimate meals.
I wish I was better at playing “house wife” :( but I’ve never been very domestic lol

thatwasthenthisisnow1073:

hahahahahahahahhahahahaha I laughed harder than necessary at this.

thatwasthenthisisnow1073:

hahahahahahahahhahahahaha I laughed harder than necessary at this.


When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet. Cranky Old ManWhat do you see nurses? What do you see?What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?A cranky old man, not very wise,Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.When you say in a loud voice, ‘I do wish you’d try!’Who seems not to notice the things that you do.And forever is losing a sock or shoe?Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see?Then open your eyes, nurse. You’re not looking at me.I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,Brothers and sisters who love one anotherA young boy of sixteen with wings on his feetDreaming that soon now  a lover he’ll meet.A groom soon at twenty my heart gives a leap.Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.At twenty-five, now I have young of my own.Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,Bound to each other with ties that should last.At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.At fifty, once more, babies play ‘round my knee,Again, we know children, my loved one and me.Dark days are upon me. My wife is now dead.I look at the future. I shudder with dread.For my young are all rearing young of their own.And I think of the years, and the love that I’ve known.I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.The body, it crumbles. Grace and vigour, depart.There is now a stone where I once had a heart.But inside this old carcass, A young man still dwells,And now and again my battered heart swells.I remember the joys, I remember the pain.And I’m loving and living life over again.I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast.And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.So open your eyes, people. Open and see.Not a cranky old man.Look closer .. See.. Me. 

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value.
Later, when the nurses were going through his meagre possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.

One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The old man’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem.

And this old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the Internet. 

Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? What do you see?
What are you thinking when you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man, not very wise,
Uncertain of habit, with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice, ‘I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice the things that you do.
And forever is losing a sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not, lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding, the long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking? Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse. You’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am as I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of ten, with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters who love one another
A young boy of sixteen with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now  a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at twenty my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows that I promised to keep.
At twenty-five, now I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide and a secure happy home.
A man of thirty, my young now grown fast,
Bound to each other with ties that should last.
At forty, my young sons have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me to see I don’t mourn.
At fifty, once more, babies play ‘round my knee,
Again, we know children, my loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me. My wife is now dead.
I look at the future. I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing young of their own.
And I think of the years, and the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles. Grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass, A young man still dwells,
And now and again my battered heart swells.
I remember the joys, I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living life over again.
I think of the years, all too few, gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people. Open and see.
Not a cranky old man.
Look closer .. See.. Me.