Prose, poetry, fiction, and rambles from people with a bit too much time on their hands.

I’m afraid.

I’m afraid that people are going to die before i let them know everything i want them to know. People say im outgoing and not afraid to approach someone. I apparently make you comfortable. Sure, i can handle hearing that.. but i can’t get it fully into my head. I want to tell people what im thinking and let them know the truth. I want to ask questions and get answers. My grandpa died last winter after fighting cancer for about 5 years and he had 3 different types. He and my step grandmother came together later in their lives; her bringing in 3 children, him bringing in 2. Both of their ex-lovers (grandpa and step grandma) died when the children were little. My REAL grandmother actually killed herself when my dad was 6.I always wanted to ask him about her. Like if i was anything like her or just what she was like in general. All i’ve heard is the bad stuff just to support her decision of committing suicide. I REALLY wanted to know about her.I never had the guts to just go up and ask her. It seemed like there was never the right time. Never a time where it was just him and i and the quiet room for my questions to shred apart. I wanted to know, and then he passed away.I never got to know about her until his funeral 3 months later when her sister came after not leaving her house for x amount of years. I learned she was quite a bit like me. She said that my grandma, Robin, broke her arm when she was about my age because she was reaching down a hole to try to save a little froggy down in there and she slid and fell, but ended up saving the froggy. Sounds like something i’d do… I’m rather foolish.I guess im just getting this out to remind myself that i need to say what i think right then because you dont know when its going to be too late to say it :/ 


Things I’ve decided.

1. Half of my childhood memories were dreams. I was a very imaginative child so I really felt like i was breathing underwater when being a mermaid or really flying when i was wendy. I can’t seperate my childhood imagination from my childhood dreams. It’s weird.

2. People need to see how beautiful they are. That there’s no need to hide or lie and that its possible to talk to someone without any lies, or sarcasms, or deceptions, exaggerations, or any of the things people use to confuse the truth.

3. I’ve realized that there are many times i really hate my parents. But I always remind myself that they aren’t parents, that they are also people that have as many problems and get just as confused about things as we do everyday.