Need it to survive but too much and it might just do the opposite.

I'm so angry now. My family and that place is the most toxic poison ever. Their words cut like broken glass, not a care in the world about the stain and the blood it causes. I was a sensitive child but I had to be hard to survive and ironically it's the thing that causes my slow spiral into madness and pain. I cannot love, I cannot afford to open up, I hurt easy and I have to pretend that I'm the opposite.

They don't think when they open their fucking mouth and say things. They don't see the pain that they cause and the evil that they spew and how everything decay when they touch it. They laugh at your misery and it's the darkest kind of laughter that has no light at all. They are stupid with no intelligence of things that they cannot comprehend nor do they try to. It's no point trying because it is all they know. How do you tell/show someone what they do is hurtful when they don't speak the language of love.

The first thing she said was 'It's ugly. I don't know why you didn't choose something with more meaning' So fucking ignorant, presumptuous, insulting, assuming and judgmental. Did not even bother to ask me what it meant and just put what I do down like that. I hate that place and the people there. I fucking hate the people that I have to call family. It's not my home and I sure as hell will try my darnest to never have to call it home.

The Universe is very strange. I was watching Practical Magic and all these repressed memories of 'understanding love' for the first time together with the lesbian-ish undertones between sisters, my memories of how i felt while watching the show and my mum busting in on the best part i liked that was 'wrong' both in the movie and her perspective, came RUSHING into my consciousness. I knew i like that part, and my mind was shaped to think that it was wrong and so the seed got planted. Watching it again, remained me of all the things I took from the movie that then have context in other important parts of my life. Me and S talking till daylight and I stroked her face. That reminded me of how we fought and she said she doesnt want to 'do it again' after what happened with Audris. And she asking me why I CANNOT fall in love with best friends, esp since what happened with R. Then there was the moon thing.

The line that cannot be crossed is the line that separates between love and falling in love.

I felt that electricity with HER and it scares the crap out of me.

Back to the story. And then just after I finish that movie, SHE replied to me, something I've been hoping for so badly. And I went nuts after ALL that happened in my mind during that movie. So i decided to let baby out for a change bc i was so happy and needed to see him jump around. I then noticed that the cage had a small gate that can be opened, but he would have to take a huge step up to get out of the cage. So instead of carrying him out as usual, I opened the gate. But he didn't come out. The door to freedom was wide open and he knew it but he was so afraid of taking that step over the low ledge. I was just PUZZLED as to why he wouldnt come out when it was so simple, to me, a human. I just tried coaxing him and cheering him on but he was so scared. Then i realized that i had been cheering 'come out, baby, come out'. That was such a revelation itself! but then there's more. He was so happy to see the cage open but he got so exhausted trying to come out, he just sat there, with maybe defeated looks in his eyes, panting or having a rest. At this point, he had actually gotten both front paws ON the ledge, it was just a matter of stepping onto the other side. And then it hit me. To come out, baby needed a push, a stronger motivation. He had already have the WANT to come out, but was afraid. He needed to want something more to take that first step. So I placed a doggie snack just outside his reach.

He came out. And I figured out another epiphany.

I can’t play music well, but I recognize sorrow in them. Drawn to it if you will. I can’t play music to get rid of my sorrow but I can write. I can write the words that paint an emotional picture that can be recognized. Does it make me feel better?

Better is a concept that is sometimes twisted.