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At this time, my affections. are overflowed with sprinkling rain in Seattle.
I am an open book. from blogspace to make my daily goings-on slightly more public than they would otherwise be. On another sort, I'm living a double life. and as if there is no tomorrow.


 DEMONS // MON VISAGE.

People that smoke everyday truly disgust me. Never date a pothead. Never marry one either. Sober people are my favorite people. 😊💩

I love it.

when he calls me to say goodnight and when I say one word, he can sense something’s wrong.

People are still talking about how great we were together. All I can think about are the reasons why we didn’t work out. I’m slowly starting to get over you but I don’t think people are ready to get over us yet.

I do not deal with death very well. When my ex-boyfriend’s grandpa died, I cried for a couple days straight when he didn’t shed a tear. I wasn’t nearly as close to his grandpa as he was but the pure thought of Bampa not sitting in his favorite chair when we’d go over to his grandparents house to play Rumikube or to bake pies killed me. But death is everywhere around us. Just this past week, I’ve heard about the deaths of two people who I knew through mutual friends or have seen from time to time. Death abruptly approaches and comes out of the blue in mysterious ways.

The first death I heard about was a girl named Phoebe White. A very young girl might I add—a young girl who struggled with self-love, desperately trying to find the strength to love her own being but who could selflessly give love to others. A young girl who committed suicide because she couldn’t reciprocate the love she had for others onto herself. I could only recall one instance where I remembered her face. Phoebe and her family came into my work just a couple months ago. I knew her sister Candice because she was a year or two below me in high school. Their family consisted of their mother, father and three or four beautiful sisters. Walking past their table, you could feel the love each sister had for one another. The way they’d joke around, smile when one another said something funny. I did not know you very well Phoebe White but from what I could tell you were and still are very well loved. It hurts me to think that you could not see the love radiating off of others, back into your heart. Where else could the love you had for others come from?


The second death was a brother of one of my old friends. I suppose my nostalgic memory tends to bring me back to moments, even little moments I’ve had with that person. The first time I went over to Maddy’s house, her brothers were home. Her brother Michael Wright came up to me and introduced himself and jokingly told me to stay away from Maddy because she was a little bit crazy. Little did I know, he was right from day one but that is besides the point. From that day on, I only saw him through the hallways at school. He was the type to float around, doing his own thing without a fuck in the world or so that’s what it seemed like to me. Isn’t it a weird feeling to think that one day you are participating in the same, mind-numbing routine only to know that one day you will not be stuck in the repetition anymore because as simple and sad as it is, you will be dead. Michael was driving home one night when a drunk driver slammed into his car and he was left in a critical state. So critical in fact that when he was brought to the hospital, he was immediately put on life support. They cut the life support around 12 in the afternoon yesterday. His family believed that there was little to no hope for Michael to return back to reality.My friend told me she ran into him at the store a couple of days ago. But today, just a few days later, he is no longer with us.


I’ve been struggling to find the words to describe how I feel about two nearly complete strangers dying when I’m still trying to cope with the death of someone I was fairly close with. I live in fear of death and only hope that I can find the courage to come to terms with it. But I have to remember that death is inevitable. Death comes so suddenly, whether you’re planning on it like young Phoebe White or not planning on it at all like Michael Wright. The only thing I—we can do is live our life to the fullest. Live life like you’re going to die tomorrow. Because as harsh as it sounds, tomorrow may be your last day. Live like you’re dying.

Rest in paradise Phoebe White and Michael Wright.

Some like it Hot (1959)


bohemianhomes:

Moon to Moon Blog: The Glass House