The day the music died.

I've never been able to fight my demons as hard as I wish I could. I just hide them for a little while, let them resurface with time. Today, I hate that his memory is tainted with his replacement's presence. I hate that no one is talking about him. I hate that I feel uncomfortable talking about him because of who is here. I hate that I feel so alone on the anniversary of the day where all my fears stemmed from. I hate that I'm worried about being alone for absolutely no reason. Right now, the little munchkin of a dog sitting next to me feels like my greatest ally. If only because she can't say anything back. She can't leave me on her own accord, and somehow that makes me feel safer. I know I'm not alone. But the memory, the memories, make feel like I am. My demons make me feel like anytime I will be. It's my greatest fear. And one I'll probably never be able to get rid of.

I do, however, like that no one is going to be able to know what the hell I just said.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself," said Alice, "a great girl like you...to go on crying this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!" But she went on all the same, shedding gallons of tears, until there was a large pool all around her, about four inches deep and reaching half down the hall."

My awesome graphic design Talents

This is going to be depressing.

I have an aunt who is dying of pancreatic cancer. She is 85 years old. This is the first life threatening illness she has had in her 85 years. Everything else- totally curable. But now, at 85, here she is with cancer. She's dying, to say the least. Without any real "warning," she found out she had cancer this summer and was thrown into this whole world of hospitals and chemotherapy. At 85 years old. She was hesitant to accept chemo, considering her age, she wondered what good it would do her. She has lived a good life, she's done all the things she's wanted to do, she's raised a huge family and done well for herself. I think she figured - maybe it's time to go. But now that the chemo isn't really helping her tumor, she has a huge choice to make. Either way, she'll never get better. But can the chemo sustain her just a little bit longer? Will it allow her to spend a couple extra weeks or months with those that she loves so dearly? No one really knows. But she still has to make the decision. I understand that she is 85 years old, but when do you say to yourself "I'm ready to die?" When do you give up the fight, throw in the towel and let God take you where he may?

I'm so young now that death, though always present in my life and in my memory, seems so far off. I think about the decision she has to make, the knowing that death is coming. What if we're just not ready for it? What if we aren't ready to leave this world and all it's people behind? What do we do then? That's what scares me the most. It's not the actual dying. It's not being ready to go. I want to have a chance to say my goodbyes but I am afraid if I know that I'm going to die, I simply won't be ready. That's why I wonder if sometimes it's better not to know. To have it be sudden, like my Dad. Maybe it's easier for the ones you love though, if you are able to say your goodbyes. Because I know that I was left with so many questions, so many things left unsaid. But my Dad, he could go peacefully. He didn't have to contemplate his death. He didn't have to think about all that he would be leaving behind. Maybe that is better for the person actually dying. I'm just afraid if I know what's coming, I'm not going to be ready. And I'm afraid if I'm not ready, the thought of dying will kill me before any disease does.

I believe people such as my aunt, those facing death, are courageous. I admire them and their strength to continue to wake up in the morning.

Twilight and a really hot vampire

I avoided the Twilight series for as long as I could.
I didn't want to read it.
I didn't want to be another one of those crazed Twilight fans.
I didn't want to know who the hell Edward Cullen was.
And yet, I fell into the trap.
I've been sucked onto the bandwagon.
And I can't escape.

Damn Edward Cullen and his seemingly beautiful face. Damn him.

U.S.of A

I've always wanted to live in the 60's, the dawn of a new generation, a country full of people questioning everything "the man" was telling them. The free love, the free spirits and the revolution that took place just seem so...romantic. I know it wasn't all fun and games, what with the trouble the Civil Rights Movement brought about, but look at what they DID. The 60's is one of the most interesting times in our history to me. Besides the drugs and the orgies, the 60's brought out the best in America, which is the ability to recognize when we've been wrong, the ability to change what isn't working and to just come together as a nation. Last night, I felt the 60's spirit at the Obama rally in Grant Park. So many people of so many different backgrounds came together in a park in Chicago in support of someone they pray to God can get America back to what it's supposed to be. The energy will keep me going for days. The tears, the chants, it all just felt so surreal. People were excited to be living in America again. I was excited to be living in America again. And honestly, I don't know if it was because it was Obama or just because people are so ready for a change. Honestly, it doesn't matter to me. I'm just glad that I got to experience what America is all about last night. It's been awhile.

it's Tuesday.

It's a shame we can just continue to walk around avoiding the bigger issue. As if nothing ever happened. As if the moment was fleeting and meant absolutely nothing. I don't know how we do it. But humans are the best at avoiding what obviously needs to be said. 

Being home is like candy to the soul.

Do not act like you have any idea who I am. Unless I've given my time and sweat in showing you.

I heart this picture.