smc92079

smc92079

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Bullets are my life. They distill everything down into short bites that I can easily digest when I am trying to remember all of the things that I have to remember. Recall doesn't work when there are too many words on the page. Bullets make it easy. Bullets make it doable.

Whenever you wrap your arms around me, I am delirious. The thoughts in my head just swirl around and I can't even begin to form a coherent sentence. You make everything fade away. It is a feeling that I've never before experienced, this delirium of love. I never want it to end.

Sometimes you find that the people who are supposed to be merciful really aren't. Parent, clergy, friends - none of them seem to give the understanding and support that they should. But the one person who is merciful, who looks past your errors, will always be there for you.

The air was sultry, the way one might imagine the Bayou to feel in the mid-summer. There was an intense feeling between them, as if electricity was arching off of their bodies and toward one another. There was nothing more they could do to contain their passion. Even if it was a mistake, even if it hurt later, they decided to act on the urges that had been growing.

I feel like I can't relate to most people who are parents. None of them have to go through their life wondering how every decision they make about their child will look to a family court judge. I just want to be a mother, and not be constantly worrying about things like that. It makes my daughter's childhood suffer, and i don't want her to feel the effects of her father's nonsense.

The setting is the same as in every story. A house, a neighborhood, a typical night. But behind these doors is something sinister. What lurks here is pure evil in the form of a man. It is frightening to those who reside within, but the outside world would never have a clue.

I suppose life could have been different. I could have done well in high school, gone off to college, been successful. But, I chose a different path. Sure, it was harder, and I got banged up along the way. I don't regret it though. Not one second of it. I wouldn't be the person that I am today if I hadn't gone through everything that I went through.

edge

I was at the edge of self-destruction. I was at the edge of being destroyed by the environment that I had placed myself in. I was literally at the edge of living or dying. But I backed away from the edge. I had to. I had to save myself.

writing since 2011 · 9 entries · 9 days shown up

each square is a day—lit means Sandra showed up.

3longest streak

9days written

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on this day 15 years ago

Sandra wrote about braid
“When I was a little girl I used to wear my hair in a braid. I loved the way that it would be crimped in the morning if I braided it before I went to bed at night. I always thought it was exciting t…”

the words Sandra reaches for

edgebulletshairbraidmorningnightchildhooddifferentformnonefeelingmercifulremembergirlwearloved