message me. text me. send me a message in a bottle..
Imma be in training for 8 hours… and its already feelin like a rough day…
somebody.. anybody.. ::in my Simba voice::
Whenever my friend says goodnight to me on Skype he sends me this gif
and I wanted to send it to him tonight so I went to Google “black man turning off lamp” but Google autofill changed it to “black man turning into jet” and I got this
Long story short it’s 1am and I’ve been laughing at this for approximately 20 years
Which one of you assholes brought this back
I. Am. Dead
What. Is. Oxygen.
I don’t know anymore….
I’ve never delt with death well.
not in the moment anyways…
In 5th grade, there was George. He worked in Produce when my mom worked at Albertsons. He would always have fresh fruit and a story for me after school when i was forced to sit with my mom as she worked the evening shift. When he was killed, I cried for a week straight & went to counseling. My first experience with depression.
In high school, my best friend’s brother committed suicide. And my cousin was killed in a drive by. My hair started to fall out. & I was back in therapy.
My freshman year of college… my great grandmother passed. I “quit school” for a week & a half. Experienced alcohol poisoning for the first time. Reckless wasn’t even the word. It took my English professor, one of the main reasons why I am an AKA today, came to my dorm room, got me up, and took me back to her office. To this day I don’t know how she did it, but she got all my professors to give me a chance to make everything up. She made me check-in with her once a week.
My first year of grad school… I was mourning a relationship. I flew clear across the country back to CA. Got a tattoo. Drank until nothing hurt. Alcohol was a lot cheaper than therapy… and I was tired of talking anyways.
Bernard’s passing hit me hard. I dont know whether to cry or scream, drink or sleep. Every waking moment i feel on the cusp of crying. I just want to eat, drink, fuck the pain away… but personal experience has proven to me…it will still be there when i come to.
But I havent. The triggers are still there… But I havent fallen. I like to think that I’m making progress over the years, but its hard. Its exhausting. And alot of people dont understand the distancing, the consistent declines to hang out, to have a drink, to talk, the reasons why I’m angry, why I’m frustrated. But I’m processing. And I realize that destroying myself isnt going to honor his life. At least thats one thing i’ve gained with age.
I may not deal with it well, but at least I’m dealing this time.