The Lady @thedenouncement - Tumblr Blog

I am burning the part of myself that belongs to you. I cauterise well and completely. Take the ashes, shape them to the mould of your hand, and cover them well. I am going. Sieve out my precious bullet, mould it to a ring and give it to another. She goes. The Lady goes. She will be forgetting this place, forgetting your face, and if you touch her she'll stumble and run from a shadow. She goes, she goes. She has forgotten she was ever born. She has forgotten that she was ever yours.

I am looking forward to a life innocence, of obeying the rules. Activity in the morning, reading by night, music in the afternoon and smells. Beautiful smells, healthy foods.

eiruvsq

Artist:

Aaron Westerberg

“Rider”

Oil on Panel

20″ x 13″

2013

Funeral Playlists

One of the things, that has to really pull you back-- I mean, no matter how close to the edge you are-- is thinking about the people at your funeral. It's no secret that a lot of very depressed people think about their funeral. Hey, I did it a lot. I confess I got a real kick out of making a playlist of music that seemed to set the mood I wanted, imagining the perfect goodbye. Until I thought about all the people who wouldn't be there. The people I hadn't met yet. There had be to some asshole who had side swiped me on the tuggeranong parkway, or perhaps been rear ended by me, reading the obits without a glimmer of difference in their life. There would also be some colleagues with whom I shared a relationship filled with bad hygiene jokes and complaints of poor working conditions; but we really clicked and laughed deep belly laughs together, so the conditions were worth it. There would be an awful lot of people who didn't care so much about me, and there would be few people who I would deeply miss not knowing. The one who should be sitting in the front row, the one who would come to be the love of my life, should have been there. But instead, at the time this playlist played they would be out meeting other people, never registering that there was seat for them at my funeral- that they had been deeply, deeply missed in my life. They might meet someone who mentions a "friend of a friend" just killed themselves: smile that sad, empathetic smile, and consider how lucky they are that that doesn't happen to their friends and loved ones. That's what stopped me every time, I think. The ardent belief that more had to be coming-- and that even though life didn't feel like it would ever get better (while I was clicking and dragging Missy Higgins), I still found myself waiting for and missing him before it finally did.

#personal #stories #Drew

Paying Caesar’s Things Back To Caesar

Customer: “Have you accepted Jesus as your personal savior?”

Me: “Nope. Your total is $7.00.”

Customer: “I don’t pay non-believers.”

Me: “Well, it’s a good thing you’re paying [Delivery Company], then.”

Customer: “Do you know any commandments, you Satan worshipper?”

Me: “Thou Shalt Not Steal. Seven dollars, please.”

(Then he threw a $10 on the counter and left. Three bucks for Satan!)

Read more funny stories at NotAlwaysRight.com!:

queencate

"We’re all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness—and call it love—true love."

Robert Fulghum, True Love

creatingaquietmind-deactivated2

You cannot convince people to love you. This is an absolute rule. No one will ever give you love because you want him or her to give it. Real love moves freely in both directions. Don’t waste your time on anything else.

Dear Sugar (via maverickrevelations)

mit-liebe-xo

Anorexia didn’t make you happy. It made you numb. There is a difference.

(via grabbing-onto-life)

yoiness

Petra Conti and Eris Nezha, Ekaterinburg State Academic Opera and Ballet Theatre © Stanislav Safin

seabois

“I felt like crying but nothing came out. It was just a sort of sad sickness, sick sad, when you can’t feel any worse. I think you know it. I think everybody knows it now and then. but I think I have known it pretty often, too often.”

Charles Bukowski, Tales of Ordinary Madness (via seabois)