01
Jun
08

100 Words

April 2008

 

1 – 4/1/2008 11:12PM

April Fool’s Day never did much for me, I never really understood the point of tricking people. I mean, A) It’s cruel and mean. B) it’s obvious to a fault, I mean, it’s the day EVERYONE trys to be clever and trick others and C) Where and how did something like this start? Did someone wake one day and say, “I think today is a grand day to try to fool everyone you know. In fact, I think everyone should do this on this day EVERY year!” I hate April Fool’s Day. It is such a massive waste of time.

 

2 – 4/2/2008 10:15 AM

I am so exhausted. My eyes want to close, my body, to lie down, my brain, to quiet. None of this will happen though, because I did not take my meds. My brain will not allow me to sleep. Whenever I get close to sleep, my brain screams at me for being weak and not sticking to figuring out the solution to the problems at hand. I don’t even really know what those problems are. I am so exhausted. I think about my warm blankets and all of my wonderfully squishy pillows and almost fall asleep just thinking about them.

 

3 – 4/3/2008 9:35 PM

It has been 19 months since the day you let us all behind. It has been 19 months since you decided that you were not meant for this place. It has been 19 months since your love of “Harold and Maude” became not a favorite movie, but a manual for suicide. The situations differ greatly, but the love remained the same. It as been 19 months, but it only feels like five, yet is feels like it’s been forever. It has been 19 months and time has not been kind enough to heal this wound. It has been 19 months.

 

MAY 2008

 

1 5/1/2008 10:19 PM

It had been some time since I had talked to her. It had been almost as long since I had let myself even think about her and all the turmoil that seemed to follow on her heels. Even so, when the call came, I wondered why I was so surprised. It was expected. In a matter of moments, the past’s hurt and anger melted away and I wondered why we had let so much time go by without resolve. We were both prideful and stubborn and somewhat ashamed of our actions. Now it’s too late to make it all okay.

 

2 – 5/3/2008 8:13 PM

She would have been twenty-five; She could have been a mom. After all, she wasn’t always careful in that area. She’d most likely still be addicted that helped her to numb the past. Praying, heroin, church, methadone, morphine, Xanax, love. Any addiction would do.

Would she have gotten better had she not killed herself? Would she have been saved by an epiphany or a miracle of some sort? Would a chance at motherhood have saved her life or maybe that would have created a whole new cycle of depression and sadness in a new generation? Now we will never know.

 

3 – 5/8/2008 11:38 PM

Many children feel as if the trusted adults in their life are infallible, and at some point while growing up and growing wiser, they discover that the adults that once stood flawless, strong and sometimes superhuman are just as lost and confused as they, the children, are themselves.

As far as I can remember, I have never seen any of the adults, or anyone else for that matter, as staggeringly heroic or extraordinary. Too often I worried because my mom was crying, yet again. I never felt as though any adult could keep us from the bad things in life.

 

4 – 5/16/2008 10:19 AM

Sometimes I wonder if my memories of important people and events are actually my real memories, or if they are regurgitations from what I have seen in photos or heard in stories. When I talked to my mom, I realized that in some cases, memory turned out to be just a playback of stories I couldn’t have known. The stories had come from the wrong point of view. That depressed me. Then, when I spoke of my last Christmas with grandma, mom and I both realized that the point of view of my memory could only have come from me.

 

 

5 – 5/16/2008 10:42 AM

The day Timmy was born, Seven years ago, was a day of joy that resurrected from sadness like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Little boy, almost lost, almost gone, beat the odds, heart beat strengthened, until the doctors knew the worst was over and the best was yet to come.

Now, he’s seven and rambunctious and as healthy and happy as can be. He doesn’t remember how close to death he was, but every time I look at him, I do. I see that helpless little baby struggling for a breath, struggling to live as all of us hoped.

 

6 – 5/16/2008 11:03 AM

I go to one sentence.com and I see “I have to choose between anti-depressants and weight loss, when half the reason I’m depressed is because I’m fat.” I feel for her. I know the feeling. I am on anti-depressants while trying desperately to lose weight. It is a battle, and it is slow, but I am winning. Someday, I will be able to tell young girls who are frustrated and about to give up, that there is hope. There is a way to beat both sadness and fatness. It’s not easy and I have fallen back, but it is winnable.

 

7 – 5/22/2008 11:37 PM

Just like that, her life is spent. Her time here, over. Just like that, agony extinguished and another one bites the dust. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, she didn’t live long, we’ll have to adjust. Just like that, her eyes grow dim and when that light goes out and her skin grows cold, we’ll forget to remember the virtues that she had and only dwell on the passed harsh months and we’ll cry thinking about her pain instead of celebrating her new life. Just like that, a husband becomes a widower and hearts break and several lives become emptier.

 

8 – 5/23/2008 3:40 PM

You waltz into town in your camouflage clothing, holier than thou, taking charge like you actually give a damn. Months go by and you don’t call your dad and you don’t support your family. When the end is near, you come in and act like you are the keeper of the family, the king of our little kingdom, the person to whom all should run to and bow down to. I resent that you take credit for the messed we’ve cleaned, the tears we have shed and the support we have given as a family, and you still don’t care.

 

9 – 5/23/2008 4:04 PM

I remember when I was young, running into my grandmother’s waiting arms, feeling safe and loved, and in the next moment, I am cold and I realize that she has been gone and in the ground for over twenty years. It’s at those moments that I miss her most, when I would have loved to have her guidance. I have noticed that I am growing to be a lot like her. There are days when I talk to my mom a lot about grandma, only to realize that my mother has stopped listening because it hurts too much to remember.

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Vomitus of the Brainus © Aimée Easton 2006 - 2011 All Rights Reserved Material contained on this site are under copyright, whether my own or someone else's. The material here is published strictly for personal use, and may not be copied to any other place without prior permission. I have borrowed or linked resources from elsewhere and I have given credit to the source from where I got material. Any form of copying or distribution, may face legal penalty.

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