You know how I can tell I was raised in a cruel world? I thought the attacks on the world trade center buildings were normal. I vividly remember saying to myself, "Why would we get out of school for that? This happens all the time". I actually gave a classmate a high-five as we climbed onto the school bus. I could see the sense of fear in every adult's eyes, but didn't take into consideration why they were scared. This was life, they should be used to it by now.

It wasn't until I walked in the door to my house and saw my mother with her hand cupped over her mouth that I understood the severity of the situation. There were tears sliding down her cheeks. It doesn't take much to make her cry, but I always felt the same when she did. I felt like I'd let her down, whether I was the cause of the tears or not. I knew it was serious when I saw my mother crying over the deaths of all these strangers. She had always been cynical, learned not to expect the best from people. She would just let karma sort everyone out. I cried with her.

My branches are bare;
I have nothing to hide. 
I’ve been picked clean,
To the bone,
I am a skeleton of what I once was.
We could sit in the dark and you’d see all I am and have to offer
Everything goes unreciprocated; 
L’appel du vide.

La douleur exquise.

I’m sick of being afraid.

WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING WHY BOTHER WITH ANYTHING

Today is the day that I finally admit to myself that I am a dog person. I’ve spent nearly my entire existence under the impression that cats are the superior animal, because my mom had always had felines circulating throughout our household. From the time I was born up until the present moment, we have always had at least three or more cats. However, upon my return home last week, I met our new dogs, Ruby and Dyna. I love them. They are goofy and playful and there for me when I need them, all the things I look for in a good friend. That’s what humans look for in pets, right? My dogs take nothing for granted, they are happy when I feed them, happy when I play with them, hell, they’re happy just to see me. It’s nice to have that feeling.

My mother always liked cats being they were independent, strong, and seemingly very intelligent. What good are those qualities though? 99% of the cats we’ve had were standoffish, almost rude in a way. I’ll take the gratitude and friendship that these dogs provide. They’re what I need in a friend.

There is one memory that stands out very specifically. We were in the art museum, and you showed me a painting of a bowl of fruit. “See how perfect it looks?”, you asked me. I nodded my head. “Yet it isn’t perfect at all”. You proceeded to show me all of the imperfections with the painting, the poor shadowing, sizing, and other small things I didn’t notice, and wouldn’t have noticed had you not pointed them out. I nodded my head again. In a way I think you were talking about yourself. It’s strange how one’s problems can be so easily hidden in plain view, yet we remain clueless until they’re pointed out to us, when they become obvious and impossible to ignore.