re0do

I had a post all written up about humanity and the end of the world and bullshit that I wrote yesterday, but I don't know, I on'tthink I'm gonig to post it, not today anyway. I feel introspective today, is that a word? I want to be like Shakespeare and use my words to my own advantage, why can't words be more individual? UNIVERSALITY... eXCEPT NATIONSTATES TAKE THE CAKE FOR SEGREGATING EVERYONE SO THAT SOME PEOPLE GO HUNGRY AND OTHERS DINE ON GOLDEN CHAIRS, AND YET i SIT HERE SORT OF HUMBLED BY THE THOUGHT THAT THERE ARE BIGGER THINGS TO WORRY ABOUT. hONESTLY, i HAVE BEEN BOTHERED A LOT LATELY. i NEED TO SORT THINGS OUT, SO HERE IT GOES. i'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT EATING DISORDERS LATELY, AND THE FACT THAT i HAVE THE ABILITY TO JUST STOP EATING, OR TO EAT AND THEN MAKE IT NOT BE THERE ANYMORE, AND EAT WHATEVER i WANT i HAVE THAT ABILITY i CAN JUST EAT CAKE EVERYDAY, GIVEN IT WOULD BE TERRIBLE NUTRITION AND EXPENSIVE, BUT i COULD. i DON'T WANT CAKE EVERYDAY THOUGH, BUT i DON'T WANT TO EAT RAW CELLERY ALL THE TIME EITHER. i HAVE NEVER THOUGHT SO MUCH ABOUT MY BODY THAN IN THE PAST THREE WEEKS, AS i SIT HERE IN A DRESS THAT IS UNFLATTERING BUT i WORE IT TODAY BECAUSE MY MOTHER BOUGHT IT FOR ME. iRONIC, THAT IS, THE UNFLATTERING DRESS THAT DOESN'T REALLY SIT WELL ON MY BODY IS SOMETHING THAT MY MOTHER GAVE ME. i WANT TO JUST SORT OF CURL UP SOMEWHERE AND FORGET THAT i HAVE A BODY AT ALL. aND THEN i THINK ABOUT THE THINGS THAT i LOVE, THE PEOPLE THAT i LOVE, AND IT'S FUNNY, BWECAUSE i DON'T THINK ABOUT PEOPLE'S BODIES AS AN IDENTIFIER. mAYBE THAT'S BECAUSE i'M BLIND, BUT WHEN i THINK ABOUT SAY MY BOYFRIEND, HIS LAUGH AND HIS VOICE AND HIS KIND WORDS AND HIS HUGS ARE THE THINGS THAT i REEMBER, NOT THAT HE'S FIT (WHICH YOU ARE, YOU GOOF) BUT SERIOUSLY. i NOTICED THE OTHER TDAY THAT A COUPLE OF MY FRIENDS FROM UNIVERSITY i HONESTLY DIDN'T REALISE THAT THEY WERE SO SKINNY UNTIL RECENTLY, BECAUSE IT WAS NEVER AN ISSUE, IT ENVER CAME UP THAT i WAS BIGGER OR THEY WERE SMALLER, BECAUSE IT WAS ALL ABOUT OUR CONVERSATIONS, OUR CONNECTIONS IN RESIDENCE, OUR HEARTFELT MEANINGFUL TEARFELT EVERYTHING EMOTIONAL RELATIONSHIP, AND IT SORT OF MAKES ME REalise that I've been worrying about something that does not define who I am. Yea, I wish I was a size eight. I do, I do everyday. But I dont look terible.. I am strong, if you asked me to carry heavy things I could, if you asked me to run I could, so what if I can't wear a skin tight dress I like my flow-y bs ones anyway, why does it matter? Why does it matrter to anyone what anyone looks like? In fifty years, when we all have white hair and canes, and sit for twenty hours ofthe day, and watch coronation street and look through old newspapers, is anyone going to be still talking about what I wore to the Avengers? MNo, they'll be talking about the jokes I made, or the time I fell running for the bus to the bar, not what I was wearig, because to be honest I couldn't tell you what I was wearing that night, bhut I was feeling good (until I fell) in my carrie bradshqaw shoes, and I was with the people that mattered to me, and we went to franks which was awe4some so really I don't care. I can't see the keyboard or what I'm typing so this could all be jibberish,. but I just don't understand why we spend hundreds of dollars on yoga pants when there's little children dying of starvation, or war crimes being committed, or people freezing or dying of disease, or people's rights arent being given or people are being hurt, or are immigrating involuntarily or being arrested injustly, there is happiness for an individual, but there is also happiness within sharing happiness to others, and it's up to you and me and everyone to sort of make sure that sharing goes around. I don't suggest donating all of your money to charity, but I do suggest living simply and meaningfully. Live happilly, live like tomorrow you found out that you would die, which is soc liche but I don't really care, I don't care nymore I just don't. I want experiences, and people, and to live the best life so that I can help other people live the best life. I devote these fingers to writing what I need to say, these eyes to helping others see what they need to see, this heart to loving everyone who needs to be loved, and this body to enabling all of these whims and passions to unravel upon the earth. I do want nice things, but if I can't afford them or thnik about it at all, I don't need a four hundred dollar purse, I could spend that helping someone else get through somethign that they need help with, or doing something so much more enriching than any material thing could do. So I guess tgus was nire if a rabt, that's probably gibberish, I am not used to this keyboard. My fingers are short and pudgy so they can't reach as far on this board. slight bodies in short sleeves, whispering crum-filled nothings on a friday afternoon, afterschool, we'd eat these cookies, as your dad cut his grass and my dad mine, "favourite canadian sport" on a friday afternoon, your mom gardened, mine read a book, we sat in the field and ate these cookies, glasses of milk sat on the porches, beside her, the little one, crying herself to sleep, i was the cat person then, and you were the batman, except that one time that I was the batman, and you weren't, and I saved you from ET, and we laughed a lot then, we still laugh a lot, my hair is longer, and so is yours and there was that one year for a split second I was older than you, and taller, too, for a split second, and the milk got on my shirt, my favourite shirt, my favourite pink beauty and the beast shirt and you gave me my windbreaker then, and I think I blew a kiss, but that could always be inside my head, most of this just livves lives inside my head... it smelled like smoke then, your back porch was high like mine, our back porches were high, and the monkeys or beatles were playing from your kitchen and mine, and we wondered how such animals could play such music, and dancing and laughing we played underneath the high porches, dancing and laughin above our parents sang along, "can't buy me love" seems so long ago, because it rang true, to all of us now, love is bought, but not for us, I don't think we ever got marshmallows, but that could also live inside my mind, buried there, do you remember the long grass pr the night with the fireworks when you held my hand? hearts beating fast, a moon, another moon, two, trapped inside, locked doors and panting, and a racecar passed bym definitely somehting inside my mind, but no, the fair, the fal fair blasting around us, we saw chickens, and those horses, my favourite, the big hooves, and the beautiful babies. the popcorn, the games we never played, and that racetrack, you'd never pass me, I had to leave, and ask for my pocahontas vhs back, you broke your arm, we hugged, we planted those sunflowers and I came back, but I still left them. and you still hugged me, even though you were..well, crying. it's so funny though beacuse I do miss you everyday, I want to drink milk and cookies again, or play power rangers, I'll be pink you be... red, always red, always batman, always collecting those those kinder egg surprises, are they still in your room? I remember your first desk, your first computer, your first sleepover with me, your first crush, your first grade, date, kiss, except not with me, that would be.. minus that mistletoe incident, I didn't mean to step on your foot, you cried then too, I was the cat person then Good luck Ist, I miss you.