It's Not Always Rainbows and Fireflies
Remember how I told you all about my best friend? The bird box girl/boy version that has tats all over his face? And remember how I told you that when we are together, I sit back and watch the way others look down on him? Well, it seems like it doesn’t bother him…and idk, maybe it doesn’t…or maybe he just hides it deep within….OR MAYBE he has just experienced the dirty looks and mistreated fronts for so long that he came to accept others for WHO THEY ARE. Look I’ve been in his shoes. And because of my past - I still live in his shoes - just not as much, and in different ways. Personally speaking, it still really bugs me when I experience it and I am working towards not letting it bother me…but it still does -> BECAUSE HOW FUCKING RUDE? And we all wonder why society is falling apart... - or maybe it’s just me and I really am Sneaker Ella > gone Wonder Woman > living on a planet that is slowly burning to the fucking ground...
Anyways, Ima back it up here because I have shit to share - at least for those in the back that are trying to deceive your degrading fucking eyes. Take a trip to my past with me - to my very, very, bad days - you know the ones where I was shooting up heroin in da hood…slowly going from the walking-junkie to the walking-dead-junkie. Oh and if you haven’t ever over-dosed on opiates via junkie-lifestyle, you may not get that expression. Basically, there is a fine_and_very_thin line between being a junkie and being dead. And right before the dead part, there is an even thinner line of time, where you know you are close as fuck to dying, and you even look dead, but you are very much kicking and breathing. Slow it down now...
Using drugs typically starts off as fun & games…and it is fun until you realize that you are playing Russian Roulette with the Devil and you accidentally end up getting addicted. From there, it continues to be a choice, BUT (big but, literally) once you are addicted, the game changes. The fun is gone, the devil is 10 hands up, and you are 10 ft underwater, barley breathing through an empty straw. And sweet babes, from there - the choices you start making, start coming with higher-paying consequences - and you technically don’t even realize it at the exact moment you probably should/or/need to…and that’s because you on another fucking level, in a not-so-hot way.
Branch out and mind-map this with me. We goin different ways now. Once you hit the point of using needles as a way to main-line drugs straight into your veins, basically like you're some sort of fucking doctor, the aftermath you have been causing starts to turn into different levels of ROCK-BOTTOM…and that little da-weeb devil is just sitting back and watching to see which bottom will be the rock that takes your ass out. See, eventually, good people will stop putting up with the bad people, aka the ones that choose to do bad things to good people, and your life-float will being to sink.
Here is something that some of those people in the back don’t know…the road you are currently on can always get darker. And there is always a chance that you can become something or someone that you are currently judging. What I mean, is that back before I was living as a homeless junkie, with a bunch of other homeless junkies, in a house without food or fucking hot water, I never thought that was a possible bottom for me. I was seriously a frequent flyer at the closest rehab and somehow I honestly still didn’t think I would_or_could ever end up there. Whatever is more than impossible, that is what it was. It couldn’t and wouldn’t happen to me. You all know the sayings we all use too fucking often…well jokes on your fucking ass because It always can…and if it does, you should feel much lower than your new “friends”.
Here’s the deal-li-o - while people sit there and judge - aka sit there with those sideways lookin faces - other people are getting hurt. FEELINGS GET PASSED ON FROM OTHER PEOPLE'S THOUGHTS AND/OR LOOKS. And yes, some people have the super-human ability to let that shit slide, but most people are just putting on a front for the time being.
End game - for this post at least - is kinda a plot twist in itself. Sometimes, in order to feel something for others, you have to have gone through it yourself. And if you haven’t, maybe you aren’t needed on scene. And if you find yourself sitting in the back with your head down - maybe this ain’t your rodeo. All you do is pass hate when you judge. And if you haven’t lived it, you don’t deserve a seat, cause you falling short yourself. Stand back and let the good ones out to play. Because if we bring enough of the right-kind-of-good-teams together, the bad doesn’t stand a chance.
Kind Hearts win. Every. Damn. Day.













