At some point in your life, parents become less of an annoyance and more...
i don't even know there aren't words for it.

I call my mom, and from my voice (which I pride myself on keeping steady)
she can tell something is wrong.
And immediately she tells me that she can come here and take care of me if I need her to...
That's what I have been missing here..total and utter UNCONDITIONAL love.
My parents will love me, even if I screw up (and boy, do I screw up).

I can yell, scream, and shout at mom & dad all I want, and at the end of the day, I can still crawl into my parents bed and cry my heart out, knowing that everything is forgiven.

I miss just cuddling in my mom's bed,
sitting in the kitchen with my dad, reading the paper
my brother and I used to have this odd habit..
whenever our parents went out to some event, him and I would go to their room and watch television until we fell asleep, and our parents would inevitably have to sleep in the guest room.

I've always had a sickeningly close family...
I mean, whenever I go to T. and I'm at my cousins house, my aunt and uncles room is the hub. All the cousins are always in that room.

It's funny how much even my aunt and uncle mean to me.
If my mom is my best friend, then my dad's younger sister is the sister I never had.

I guess I'm just homesick and familysick, so that's why I am musing on this so much..
but honestly, my family has molded me so much into who I am,
how can I not be thankful to them?

I just miss my parents and I want to wax poetic about them...

scare tactics don't make people respect or like you,
they make them loathe and resent you.


seems like once people get the power, they don't remember
what their lives were like before.

and I have to think, do I really want to be apart of something like this?

Courage comes in many shapes and forms.

I wish for things a lot.

I wish for the calm idleness of summers past
the newness of the beginning of fall
the birth of spring, when the air smells like fresh rain and blooming flowers

a year is approaching, a year.
a landmark, a point in time to remember, commiserate, etcetera.
Have I changed at all in the year past? Grown or learned things?
Maybe, Maybe not.
I'm different surely, but then again, I was different yesterday too.

I wish there was a perfect, beautiful word for constant longing.
The kind that you have to live with, no matter where you are, or what you're doing

When I'm here, I long for my family. An ache that seems to be with me all the time. I ache for the comfort of my home, of just being with them.
My brother, my mother, my father, and my Grandmother.
When I'm there, I long for my friends here.

Its basically a lose lose situation.


Music awakens memories.


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