what you eat don't make me shit

Why do I care so much about what other people think?

Family, friends, random folks. I once knew a girl who didn't care about those things. I knew her and she would listen to whatever music she pleased, she would bop her head as she walked around in thrift store finds and a tape player when er-body else had a cd player. She didn't care.

And the turth is, that girl still doesn't care, but she doesn't care in another way now. An almost haphazard way.

I want so badly to get back to doing and working and just feeling good about myself and things. I want that, but then some days its just a struggle. I feel so far behind. With everything. I thought that I'd be together by now, but so much shit happened, and here we are.

****
"sounds like a love song," "i gotta make the song cry"
-Jay/Z

I feel like I gotta make my blog cry. My post last night, when my bro read it, said that it made him want to cry, and thats just how I was feeling. I wanted to paint a picture that was pretty, but sometimes things are so pretty and so beautiful that they make you sad.

I remember when, not even when I was little, but when I would go to my gma's house and sit around on the bed, finding a small space to try and sit down because er-body was up in there. On a Friday nights like this, we'd all be in and out of my gma's room. Eating, snakcing, laughing, and I can't even recall a specific conversation. I mean, it wasn't so much about what we said but it was just the fact tht we were all together. We would laugh at each other, rehash all the problems and difficulties we'd faced that week and gma would find a way to sort them all. If one of us was too quiet, she'd say, "Now, what on your mind?" And the shit that really gets me, is that she meant it, she wanted to know exactly what you were thinking, and if she didn't get it the first time around, she'd go through and have you explain again. Then, she'd repeat what you said, and she'd understand. She really would.

I think we are all missing that, we're missing having that one person who could keep us all together.

Last week, I went to my gma's house for the first time in months and it made me so sad. So sad, and not much has changed, but one significant thing had, the smell. My aunty now burns candles in the house, and my granny would have never done that. She didn't belive in lighting 'fires' in the house when you didn't have to. But now the house smells like sweet candles. Not like my sweet granny.

And I know that things have to change, I know what happens when you don't allow yourself to move past a certain stage, you never get a change to move past the pain, but I'm so afraid of not remembering.

"I know you can hear me now, for the record, I love you,"
mary-j