apocalypsesweet: From the Virgin Suicides, a pair of bandaged wrists covered in bracelets. (Default)
[personal profile] apocalypsesweet
I have no delusions to what I am and to what I am not. I know I am a human female who is on the short side with a little too much weight on her person to be deemed societal acceptable. I have the most generic of looks with nothing extraordinary about myself. I work, I go to school and if people had dating advice about me, I already know what it would be.

She seems sweet, but she is a monster.

I know it, it comes with the battleground. Some people could write novels about how they fought and won their fights, or as they fought and slowly fell they learned something. I am losing my fight, and what I have learned is that deep down inside of me I am a terrible person. But that could be the truth, or how my emotions are dictating my self-perception of myself at the moment.

But, if you wanted to read a story about a sweet victory of self-discovery, I am sure you wouldn’t have picked up my story from the links and decided to give it a go, right? No, you wanted a story where someone decided to get the skeletons from their closet, dress them up in some parody of who they are based off of and make them dance.

There are many parts of my story that I can start off with, which always made me how first person narratives choose that perfect point to get the ball rolling. I could start off with the suicide attempt of an elderly relative which would actually lead more into my father’s story than my own. I could start with the cancer patient which would lead more into my mother’s.

I want to start off with mine though, because with my own story- you know those other two will slowly start to emerge like an alligator watching its prey before it strikes from the murky waters of a swamp.

Perhaps, I will just start my story off with today, because it is nothing more than me looking back and perhaps looking forward some too. Yesterday, I missed work for a doctor’s appointment and to visit a funeral home. The Doctor’s appointment is to get me on some medication where perhaps, time given I would hate myself slightly less and feel less like something is about to burst out of my skin like bloody blades and birth. I had decided to just write for myself would be great if it didn’t feel like I was shouting at a wall, so I decided to do it here. My self-indulgent writing of everything. I just know I am tired and full of feelings and I just want to get it out.

Today, I decided to post the story up, slowly as it comes to mind. I’ll try and keep a timeline of things. Today I am missing work because I feel sick and tired and stressed. Tomorrow I have off. Friday, I plan on going in recovered. These will be the two days I take care of myself.
So here it is on a lonely bit of the internet, and I am going to slowly get the skeletons out to dance.
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apocalypsesweet: From the Virgin Suicides, a pair of bandaged wrists covered in bracelets. (Default)
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