well I know we're dying
and there's no sign of a parachute
in this chapel
little chapel of love
can't we get a little grace
and some elegance
Yesterday was just supremely an ass of a day emotionally, and I banish any ass days from all future events. Mental illness sucks. There's no other way to put it. Is there no magic pool where the thirsty can drink and be sated? When do you tell someone you love who is sick that you can't help them anymore? What is the line that cannot be crossed, even by the ill? My friend Bramble said that even Mother Theresa had her limits before telling some to piss off. Hell, even Jesus did. "Heal yourselves."
just say yes
you little arsonist
you're so sure you can save
every hair on my chest
Husband pulled out a sword yesterday that I never knew he had, and he fought for me.
My psyche comforted me last night with dreams of levitation/flying and Mrs. Frisby and the rats of NIMH.
Today we are being taken on a miniature golfing expedition for our hard work on Harry Potter.
we scream in cathedrals
why can't it be beautiful?
why does there
gotta be a sacrifice?
I didn't mean to post anonymously on the comments a few days ago.
Don't you see you've just answered your own question?
You dreamed about the rats of NIMH.
They were? Lab rats. Subjects of medical research.
There's good money to be made for good folks like yerself - medical research volunteer! Pharmeceutical trials!
Lumps sums of cash for studies.
Great for artists.
If you're lucky, it might even help you suffer.
I swear to god, I wish I were a woman - so many ads for harvesting eggs... thousands of dollars for anyone, more if you're a "white woman", more if you're "attractive" and/or "remarkable" in some way, more if you're educated.