A VIDEO

I feel like I would like to be somewhere else doing something that matters.  And I’ll admit here, while I sit here, my mind wastes away and my doubts start to gather.”

A QUOTE

I’m forever torn between home and the illusion of home

Reblogged from o. hallelujah.
A VIDEO

beautifulbookborrower:

The Abraham Lincoln Book Tower! You can find it across the street from Ford’s theatre in Washington D.C., as a part of the Lincoln exhibit attached to the house where he died. 

This tower is 34 feet high and took only 2 weeks to create! My sister and I were debating whether they had to add a new book to it every time another Lincoln biography was published, but apparently they created this tower in 2010 and haven’t gone back to add anything to it. 

When I die, I would like this done to the books I own. 

Abraham Lincoln and books. Two of my favorite things. :)

A PHOTO

uhm. I need (no, I really really want) these cookie cutters.

Reblogged from Sarah Loses Weight
A TEXT POST

We stand in a circle talking as the rain falls outside.  The gloom seems to have settled around us while we force pointless conversation.  He attempts to show excitement as he raves about the latest movie you both watched and all the meals that you have cooked.  I try to muster happiness, because he seems to be there for you more than he ever was for me. 

The conversation slowly shifts to the events of the day.  The minutes have escaped us and we really have to leave.  Before our goodbyes, he reaches out to grab your money.  His hands are trembling. My eyes flicker from his face to his fingers.  I wish he could see my disapproving glare, as if doing so would make him notice the pain that he is causing.  I want to scream at him; order him to take a damn drink so he can stop the withdrawals before they get worse.  I want to tell him that he isn’t doing us any favors by waiting until we leave to crack open the first can. He cannot fool us.

The next words out of his mouth don’t help matters. “You don’t need all this money today. Only take half of it. There is no reason you should spend all of your $40.”  I can’t help but wonder why he has to control it.  You are only ten, after all.  That money is burning a hole in your pocket.  It’s yours, and the only way to really learn to manage your money is to decide how to spend it yourself. Besides, you have your older sisters to help you make decisions. 

We finally leave and move toward the promise of a good day. I wish so badly to invade your mind and give you the perfect day without you having to request any of it.  Throughout the drive and all of lunch, you are quiet.  We ask you why, but you say it’s nothing. You are thinking of all the shopping we are about to do and are excited about the lunch you are going to eat. You cannot wait to spend a day with your sisters. I watch your face as it struggles to keep up with your lies. They roll off your tongue and you don’t crack a smile; you don’t try to make us believe.

At the stores, we are pulling clothes of racks rapidly. We can’t wait to find you something that you will love. The fitting rooms broke your spirit, though. You spent countless minutes studying yourself in the mirror, and when you emerged there was no confidence in your eyes. You sought approval, asked opinions. You’re told so often that you aren’t perfect, that you have to change. I want to make you see your beauty. I want you to know how much you have always lit up my world.

As the day ends, my pockets are empty.  I’ve tried to give you everything you could possibly want. I wanted to see your face light up. I wanted you to be happy.

When we return, he can’t hide the drunken heaviness in his voice.  A fog has seemed to settle in the room and your smile slowly fades. You feign excitement as you pull things out of the bag to show him.  He can’t even pretend to care as he scoffs at all our choices. His hand reaches for your money and he tries to hand it to me. I shake my head, tell you to keep it for yourself. My stomach churns when I notice his hands no longer shaking.  I almost wish they still were. I hate to leave you with him.

I hug you, tell you to call me if you need anything. He screams, “She will NOT need anything” as if he could sense the subtle hint in my voice.

Driving home, I feel sick. My previous happiness vanishes. One day doesn’t change a thing. I want you to be happy. I want you to live as a child and stop putting him first.  I want to tell you that while hope is good, too much hope can hurt. He’s proven countless times that he won’t change.  I’d hate for you to hurt when he doesn’t. 

I want you to talk to me and share how you feel.  I want you to have a choice of where you live and how you are treated. I long to watch the hurt slowly melt from your eyes.

You have no idea how desperately I want you to finally be free.

A PHOTO

inked-black-books:

Wintergirls- Laurie Halse Anderson

Reblogged from Laurie Halse Anderson
A TEXT POST

When I get a job…

The first (well, second) order of business will be to start saving for a trip to Greece.

First, I guess I should start paying off my student loans. 

A VIDEO

Let me make this crystal clear 
That I don’t need your help
& I’m okay by myself

You can go to hell

& I feel it’s time that I have said
there are some things that I regret
Like never checking out the odds against this bet
'Cause I would bet my favorite things I ever owned
That you would leave, and I’d be missing you like hell.
But I won’t.

Go to hell.