melinko

SO everyone wants to know how vacation went. Everyone who's been around for a while knows I hate flying. You're a couple thousand feet from ground floating in a giant coke can with wings with a bunch of people you have never met and quite frankly are pains in the asses because the second they notice your uncomfortable they are quick to try and help your issue. They tell me how many successful flights they had and how safe they are. NO SHIT! If you had plummeted to your death I would not be listening to you flap your jaws. The flight home was uncomfortable as usual but at least it meant I was going home. See I'm going to get about 20 comments telling me how safe flying is and how its safer then driving. I know this and I believe you death is not what scares me and not what I don't like about it. I hate not being in control and never being able to see where your going and save me the " there are side windows" yes I know I frequently look out them and see ground to my left and nothing but clouds to my right that serves me know comfort knowing the plane is sideways. Regardless I'm sure next year it will be another vacation and another reason to fly and my happy ass will be back in puffy clouds in a giant coke can. I cant stand the hangover feeling in my head and my stomach flopping around like a fish out of water with headphones cranked in my ears and the words still sound muffles because my fuckin ears wont pop and feel like at any moment they will explode out and bleed to relieve the pressure themselves. I love to torture myself and I find this to be the best way to do so. Ill distract myself with writing or delusions of what it would be like to fly into the sun or plummet to the ground and how long people would survive. Or reading all the pamphlets explaining how to die LMAO. Anyways enough of that.

I cant say that it was all bad. I may hate most of my relatives and there judging manor but they are still related and I do miss them on occasion. For those who don't know I'm originally from Fall River, MA. I went up there about a month ago because my grandfather was diagnosed with cancer. It progressed so fast in 3 weeks time he had to have a machine breath for him. We got the day with him and that was enough for me. Either way we went back this time for grandma's sake. I got to see my cousin graduate with about a thousand other penguins at the civic center. I got to go to my other cousin's birthday and got hit on by a bunch of drunken bikers who have known me since birth but haven't seen me in 4 years and seem to forget kids grow. I spent a day with my father and surprisingly he didn't fall into his usual drunkin pattern and instead of a keg settled for just one beer. He didn't bring up my piercings or tattoos or the fact that he doesn't like them. He didn't even piss me off which he usually does within 10 min of his presence. And as a bonus we stayed at grandma's I got all the good food and cookies that no matter how close someone makes them only grandma can make right. There is plenty of bad shit the happened too but id rather not make this a rant and instead an actual journal. So ill leave it at this and say there is no place like home, there is nothing like your own bed and your favorite pillow, and even when you hate plates you can survive it. Keep an eye out for new pics and sorry I'm a little behind on messages, comment, journals, and sets. I'm going to attempt to catch up this week.