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For once in meh life I don't have a scar from a surgury...that makes me kinda sad, becuase now no one will be able to ask, "what happened" when they see the scar. My doctor was like, "No one will see that scar for a long time." (Apparently becuase of wear it's located.)
Scars are a beautiful thing, they're a memory forever on your body, they don't let you forget what happened when you got them. They could be a happy memory, they could be a sad one. Mine are broken though...becuase they are deadly memories, the kind I'd like to forget about. Sometimes I wonder to mehself, "How could you not hate man kind?" I shake my head and reply. "Becuase it's not the men I hate, it's the man who did this to me that I hate." Thus proudly stating a deep hate for all doctors.
This recent surgury was a happy one though...so...I wanted a scar so that when I got a chance to tell another story it wouldn't have been about pain and suffering. It would have been about the help I got, and the pain I don't have anymore.
Sometimes I still have nightmares about that three or so months, I flutter my eyes open at night, and sometimes...I fear to go back to sleep. Most of the time...I stop breathing in meh sleep, I realize now my body was only trying to increase my heart rate to make my lungs start working again so I can gasp and almost scream.
What little things are bodies do which we so dreadfully hate are most likely the best things are body can do for us. I must seem like a "know it all." But I'm not, not really. I know a few thigns here and there, and a fews things a wise god (my mother) once told me. "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never hurt me." Or, "You are beautiful on the inside, as much as you care to be." And here are a few of my own sayings that have gained respect from my fellow friends and family. "I do not fear death, I embrace it with arms spread wide and a grin lasting ear to ear." Also, "I know I am, but what in the world are you?!?!" And if the person was smart enough to relize it they would have gotten mad for me implying that they were outcasts from another planet.
The other day I walked outside in tight pants, and skin tight shirt that showed the tops of meh breasts, and every man I walked by stopped and his eyes followed me along with his jaw dropped face. I know, rediculous hunh? When I can catch the eye of a full grown man by showing off a little flesh. I think that if a man can't keep what makes him a man in his pants long enough to say hello, then he doesn't deserve to be a man. All my life I was taught that a man should be responsible, controlled, poised, and unpenatrable. I'm finding out now that a man can be penatrated with just one look. One tiny look, and they're all over you.
Now...I don't quite mind perverted men, I'm just as much a pervert as they're and if you don't believe that then you don't really know me. I know that I have a few grown male friends, who find it amuzing to feel me up once in awhile. We don't do nothing though, I wouldn't want any of them to go to jail...or atleast thats what they tell me would happen. I tell them it doesn't matter what you do as long as no one knows. I still get nothing though. How mean. Anywho...Thats basically my past two days. >..<
How are you?
How have your past two days been?
 shans · Tue Jul 03, 2007 @ 01:12pm · 0 Comments |
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