The Roses Write Well

There wasn't a waste of time. The rose bushes bestowed on my body came and stayed pulsing gently on my hands. I laughed profusely to not get them into knots. A gentle soul was the result. It was silent for a whole second. I couldn't get over the silence. It breached a social code of conduct not yet lived through enough to be of a kind to let go of its gripping nature. I kept going but I was the apple of the eye of the beauty holding beholder. I was smoking on sin and bathing in sin. It is the most apple pie and cigarette household; I could not believe my ears for a second, nor my eyes. It was a good place to play alas every play had to be taking with great caution. A brewing pot of witches was left behind, to only be welcomed by Christian values not yet played with the magic of the private life. This social dilemma is why privacy is so cherished. Being on one's own, free of organized religion, school hierarchy, and close friends, family, it's almost certain that the giant falls. I took great leaps in college, but I've made greater leaps outside. I can rest assured that I'm being looked after. I feel it is followed that we must love thy neighbor. I'm playing a game with my psychiatrist, that I'm a person with interests and I need money to solve my problems. This is all true. I'm almost done, maybe. What are the solutions to a girl looking to becoming a DJ but doesn't have the ability to hold down a good job? Disability is a crutch. I'm dragging my feet through all this. I walk straight too. It's a journey of love, life, and support. The author inside of me has been put on hold. Hi! I'm right here!! And now I'm gone.

Lucky Break

I came back a monster. I forgot how to live, love, and appreciate that I had a roof over my head. I had food. A bed. A place to live in. I was too impoverished dropping out of college that I fell down a black hole of sorrow, regret and poverty. Financial aid gave me a false sense of security and income. I didn't want to get kissed or hugged. I couldn't speak. I forgot how to love life and the people in it. When I dropped out I was a senior at UC Berkeley. I left school only to find out life is hard; especially if you don't have any money. Life in school went very fast. My ride was easy and steady. That was because my parents worked hard to make sure we would not end up homeless and without an education. My family noticed I was a tad off when they drove about six to eight hours to pick me up from Berkely. I wasn't the same girl. The years after college were difficult. All these years I've been struggling trying to be who my family remembered. For fear of rejection and retribution, I stayed quiet. I cooked. I wrote. I didn't want to be sent back to the mental hospital with the claim that I was as danger to myself or others. I didn't want to go get another evaluation and diagnosis. I've been playing a cruel game. Family is everything. I give hugs, kisses, and love again. That's what I forgot to do when I fell off my high horse. I fell, yes. But I decided to live for the fun stuff of the world. I decided to be a great person with lots of dreams and experiences. I'm choosing to do better. I am a good person.