My Fairytale

I want the fairytale ending... My way. I want a big kitchen with an island. I can picture myself standing behind the countertop in a messy green apron, hands caked in a floury mixture. I roll the mixture out into something recognizable and raise an eyebrow. Something is definately not right. I have a husband, three kids, two puppies, and a cat, so my house should never be this quiet. My hair goes up in a no-nonsense bun as I wash my hands and head toward the family room. As I cross the threshold I'm greeted by a loud, "SURPRISE!" I'm shocked and in disbelief. I'm not so busy that I've forgotten my birthday. Mothers' Day perhaps? Nope, I haven't lost it. But I have a wonderful family and this surprise is just because. Just because I love surprises. There's laughter and hugging, and loud, obnoixious, dramatically overdone kisses--the best kind. Those are my surprises, and I could not ask for anything greater. I adore my husband, I love my kids, I cherish my pets. I love my life.


This is my fairytale. Simple, I know. No knights in shining necessary. Just love. <3

Giving Up the Ghost

I hold onto things a lot longer than necessary--friendships, relationships, jeans. I like to fix things, or fix myself so that they work out. My caring spirit is something that other people admire. It's the one thing I hate the most. I tend to put the hapiness of others ahead of mine. I let people believe they can take advantage of me just to keep peace. I let people think they're right, and that I agree with them just so that they're happy. I've tried to convince myself that as long as the people I love are happy, I'm happy. And most of the time, that's the case. But every once in a while, crap builds up, and I can't handle it anymore. When the people I try so hard to keep happy start fussing at me, stuff doesn't go so great.

Sometimes holding on to the not-so-good things messes up the great things. Does that make sense? I have the most amazing boyfriend EVER. So why do I feel like I need to hold on to a friendship that stesses me out so much? Especially when it's also upsetting my boyfriend. I don't anymore. I can't hold onto it.

The Method Behind My Madness

Dare one day to take a walk in my shoes,
And suffer with me through every cut and every bruise.
All self-inflicted and all my fault
All the result of always accepting fault.
My crime is nothing but wanting
Longing for something worth flaunting.
Pining after the love of they
Who will never love me the right way.

They that I call Family.
A word that means so much to me.
While I'd like to think they feel the same
I know regularly they forget my name.
I'm only good when someone's mad,
And then I'm actually quite bad.
Because when they cannot see that they're to blame,
They find themselves hollering my name.

I get so sick of being the evil one,
But in their simple minds, nothing to change that can be done.
I want to see them suffer like I do.
I want to know that they understand pain, too.
So I hurt the ones that hurt me most,
Not by harming the host,
But by tracking their assaults on my arm.
When shit gets crazy, I self-harm.

Dare one day to take a walk in my shoes,

And suffer with me through every cut and every bruise.
All self-inflicted and my fault
All the result of always accepting fault.
My crime is nothing but wanting
Longing for something worth flaunting.
Pining after the love of they
Who will never love me the right way.

FAMILY.

Oops I Did It Again

I haven't purged in God knows how long. Or well, I HADN'T purged in so long. Because I just did. I could just blame it on soccer. Today was the first day of tryouts, and when I got home I was so tired and hungry that I spent forever just walking from the refrigerator to the microwave, and back. When I finally finished eating, I felt like the biggest blob on the planet. I could feel it sitting in my stomach, the calories and fats absorbing into my body. Suddenly I couldn't take it anymore. I dragged my feet all the way to the bathroom, hopped in the shower, and got rid of it all. It was horrible. There were chunks of apple, and pineapple. There were whole strands of spaghetti, marinara sauce, broccoli bits, yoghurt, lunch meat, and worst of all, the curry. It all came up my throat, some of it out my nose, all this icky mixture of green, red, and yellow. My curry is always spicy, so imagine squirting hot sauce into your nose. Pure hell.

Thing is, I don't care about how big of a mess I made. Really that can be cleaned. And I don't care that my whole family heard me puking my guts our. So what if the admit me? I already know there's something wrong with me. But I have to live with myself knowing that I'm a big fat failure. The most disappointing thing is that I wanna do it again. And again. And again. I want the emptiness. The shocking part was how hard it was, and how long it took everything to come up. Now can you look me in the eye and tell me I'm not insane?

.   .   .   I   t h i n k   n o t .

The Game from Hell

It's a game. A game you know you can't win, but you play anyway. You hold onto every single thread of superficial hope. In the beginning you believe you're in control, but as time passes, you realize that you're in way over your head. Many times I've said to myself, "If only I'd never started this..." Because no matter how pointless this game is, it's one I know I must play to the end. To everyone else it seems completely irrational. Hell, I don't even understand it. I just don't have the will power to shut it off.

I bought the game a couple years ago, but I'm still paying the price. I know people say you can't sell your soul to the devil, but I feel as though I have. As with any other games, the levels in this one constantly get harder. The further along I get, the more I know that win or lose, I will ultimately fail. But I'm gonna play anyway. Don't ask why.

I have no idea.

I Was Once a Fish?

(Will edit later.)

The theory of evolution pisses me off. I'm sorry, but Christian or no Christian, the "evidence" that evolutionists present has more holes in it than any scientific theory. When it comes down to it, Evolution vs. Creation is a question of faith. Evolutionists have faith in their THEORIES because they have not, cannot, and will not be proven. Ever. Because just like the Bible, we don't know what happened. We weren't there. But even if I wasn't a Christian, I don't think I'd advocate something that changes every day. New expiriments are conducted that completely void the old ones. How do you know something about which you know nothing?

And since I am a Christian I thought I'd let you know that the Bible is not a myth. According to science it takes at least 200 years for a myth to develop. And myths are always varied in content. It's not human nature to keep stories straight. But the gospels were written about 60-some years after the time frame of Jesus' existance. And all of the gospels that depict the same events are consistant. So are all the manuscripts of them. SO PUT THAT IN YOUR PIPE AND SMOKE IT.

Here's the thing. I believe in God. Scientists believe in their half-bat expiriments. I believe in a loteral heaven and hell. I believe in the Bible. In seven days of creation. I believe that Jesus Christ, the son of God died on the cross so that I may be saved. I believe in the Trinity. One God. Father, Spirit, Son. And I've chosen to believe all this without proof the world believes. It's completely irrational. But so is the THEORY of evolution. It just so happens that all my prayers get answered. Evolutionists are basically still on square one.

My Version of the Creation Story

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth. He went through five days of making lovely perfection, saw that it was all good, and on the sixth day He created the reason pain is radiating through my back and uterus right now. On the sixth day of Creation God created Adam and saw that he was good. He then created Eve. And she was good, yada yada yada. The Bible doesn't say how long after, but eventually the serpant convinced Eve to take a bite outta the forbidden fruit. (Enter disobediance) Of course the idiota bit. Eve then gave the fruit to Adam, whom I believe is an even bigger idiot because he was just being a big fat follower! Then again, who can blame the guy? He was staring at the sexiest woman alive (pbfft, the only woman alive) naked.

Anyway, they immediately realized they were both naked, and they tried to cover themselves with leaves because Adam suddenly was like, "Hey I don't want all these animals looking at my woman!" (Enter jealously into the world.) Then as if they really thought God didn't see their dumb selves, they tried to hide.

Here comes the reason I wish I could go back in time and cut down that blasted tree... I mean I know the fact that we have to walk around with clothes on is bad enough, but there's more! Because Eve ate the fruit, God decided they had to be punished. So in his rumbling thunder voice he goes, "Adam, now you gotta work the ground. Stuff isn't just gonna grow anymore. Your sweat has to drip on it first." Big deal, right? NOT! Adam got the long end of the stick, because then with a smirk on his face the good Lord turns to Eve and goes, "As for you... You, young lady, are going to have to endure pain for about a week every month. And when you give birth, it's gonna feel like you're pushing a watermelon out of your vagina."

I admit that Eve deserved it. But did God ever stop and take into consideration the future? Not every man these days is a farmer. Not every man has to work the ground. On the other hand, every woman has a period every month, unless there's something wrong with her or she's on the pill. Though I'd love to be on birth control, I can't imagine having that cnversation with my parents, and I can't just drive myself to Planned Parenthood. This pain? Well let's just say I've wondered if it would stop if I stabbed myself in the uterus. Because these cramps are in a class of their own and they DO NOT PLAY! All I'm saying is that it seems a bit unfair.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the Earth. In five days he made lovely perfection, saw that it was all good, and on the sixth day He created Eve. On the sixth day, God created cramps. Curse the sixth day.

THE END!  (OR SHOULD I SAY THE BEGINNING? LOL!)