The Thing About Depression...

Destination: Self loathing

It's easy to lose yourself in isolation. With no one to keep you company but the weight of all you've done and the proof of it in front of you as a constant reminder as you look in the mirror. But everything must go back to normal, or as normal as possible as you gather yourself to face the day. You may be screaming on the inside, but on the outside, you have to be alive and not grimace as you smile. I read somewhere, that if you smile, or make any kind of facial expression for 10 minutes or so, you'll become happy, or become sad. I don't know if I believe that or not, I don't want to try, but I do know that you'll become anything if you will it enough. It's easy to hide, it's easy to mask yourself, it's each to blend in if that's what you want to do, and it's okay. There's no written law that says, "War is peace. Freedom is slavery. Ignorance is strength." Unless, this is George Orwell's 1984, and if it is, we should all kill ourselves. Destination: Self loathing, but maybe with a few sunny days ahead. Self isolation isn't always fun.

Haha

Marilyn Monroe, 1960 - captured by Eve Arnold.

When you and your crew all find something funny for once.

Source: I Miss The 90s

I'm sorry...

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm sorry I never appreciated you while I was growing up.  I'm sorry that I didn't see the sacrifices that you made for me, as Asian immigrants.  I hated you when you would embarrass me in front of my friends or in public when you'd speak to me in Chinese. 

I hated that I was Chinese at one point in my life, and I'm so sorry for that, I'm deeply shamed by that now.  I was embarrassed by my heritage, and all I wanted was a normal life as a white American.  I wanted that so much that I prayed for it.  I hated my eyes, my skin color, and my general look of not looking Anglo Saxon American. 

I'm sorry that for that one year, I acted white, like I didn't understand Chinese, or refused to eat anything Asian.  I'm sorry I made you worry.  I'm sorry for myself, because for that one year, I could've learned so much. 

Growing up, I deeply resented you two to my bone.  You two worked so hard, accomplished so much, but it fell on blind eyes, and deaf ears.  You two were never home, and it was up to my brother to take care of me, which he used to resent me for as well.  I loved him so much, and he never really returned that love.  It must've felt like that for you too. 

I'm sorry that I don't trust you two, enough to share this with you.  That you won't really understand what I'm saying, or out right deny everything I'm sharing.  I'm sorry that you'll never know.

I'm sorry for everything that I've said that made you feel anything other than happiness, and I'm sorry for what I'll say to you in the future that make you feel anything other than happiness.  Such is the way of life, and not everybody is meant to die happy.

Seasons change, and friends move away, and life goes on from day to day, but I do know for a fact, that I love the both of you so much, so much that I'd rather die than see you both in a grave.  I want to thank you, and apologize for being so difficult at times, but I know, also for a fact, that your love is boundless, and beyond the farthest star.

Love

Wei Shing

Givebackbox.com is a free service that helps you reuse and recycle shipping boxes while donating items to charity. Just print out a pre-paid shipping label, stuff the box with donations (like gently used clothing), and send it out. 

Source

He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me...

I Have (Another) Thing About Bathtubs

AO3 Link

Summary: In the alternate ending season 2, happy and on the run, Villanelle decides she wants a do-over of the last time she had Eve on her back in a bathtub. [Explicit, kind of kinky…so heads up - villanelle may be soft but she also knows how to dom]

Eve was laying in the bathtub relaxing, eyes closed, her dark hair floating around her like a cloud. Villanelle didn’t make a single sound as she slipped in the bathroom and slid into the water, settling on top of Eve.

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I try to be understanding with every person, and try to view posts from their point of view if they get upset. I'm glad you're so outspoken and so open with your autism. You are lighting the way for more understanding, and leading the way for an open dialogue. That's awesome, my friend.

As for the kiddo, he had another seizure last week at the YMCA while swimming. I'm heartbroken, the doctors don't know why he's getting seizures. Fingers crossed all is worked out soon.

His eyes...

she thought, are beautiful. There is life in there far beyond her reach.

Behind his eyes was freedom, far from the chains of his mind and the complex bondage he was held fast to. If only he could reach out. But he is left with a blank stare and various stimulation that were expressed with a flap of his arms, and twirling, his constant twirling around.

She held fast though, returning each time to look into his eyes, because she knew, she knew there was freedom behind his eyes.

A freedom that would break free for an instant, and he would focus and be free from the chains for but a moment, and stare back with recognition, with a single word on the tip of his tongue, but would never be uttered; “mom.”

His eyes, she thought, are beautiful. There is life in there, far beyond her reach.

THE CHILDREN’S HOUR (1961) dir. William Wyler.