Pillowbook "passed security"

Everything we do
changes us
Everything we say
changes us
Every step we take
changes us

it is only
when we try too hard to change ourselves
that
nothing happens

Pillowbook "hate is just another word for jealousy"

There is someone I wish really ill upon. I hate her. I truly hate her. It is the strongest negative feeling I have ever had, for I am not by nature, prone to hate. Dislike yes, annoyance most likely, but not true hate.

She is a pampered princess, cared for by all, loved by all. The greatest diva have ever known.

When I first met her I was so happy, for I thought that for the first time in my life I would have a true sister, someone to share everything with, someone that accepts all of you and gives all of herself back. She was sweet, innocent and caring and really gave me the feeling that she wanted to meet me halfway. So despite the fear I had, I opened my heart and showed her who I am and she...threw it right back in my face.

The backlash was horrendous. I was completely defenceless for I had taken down all my mental walls. I just sat there all numb, distantly listening to her raving about me being so mean to her, saying mean things and just being generally mean. It took me a long time to understand what she was saying and when I did I almost started laughing for it was so ridiculous, or at least I thought so.

She was upset about me making a comment on her dessert on evening. She had been eating a cake that seemed very good and when she had finished I said "Oh, that must have been a very good cake because you ate it so quickly!" - for me it meant that she had been enjoying it, for her it implied that she was a fat pig and I was pointing it out.

Then I had tried to flirt openly with her boyfriend, standing very close to him and whispering in his ear. In fact I had been standing not very close at all and we had been talking about her parents house, a subject I find very dry and not flirty at all. The fact that I was madly in love with her brother was of no consequence to her, just the fact that I had talked to her boyfriend was enough proof of my viciousness.

Then I had openly disagreed with her on a matter of art, I n which she deems herself an expert. We had been discussing the placement of a staircase in a medieval house and after a rather long and tedious ramble of fancy words from her that, I thought, really didn’t mean anything I just said that maybe they just placed the staircase there because they needed to walk up and down at this very spot (I thought it was a logical explanation.).

The list could go on forever if I mentioned all the things I had "tormented" her with, but the end results would be the same.

I hate her. I wish her ill in life, and I cannot hide it anymore. Every time I hear something is going bad for her I smile, every time I hear that she is in over her head I am holding my thumbs for something to go wrong. Yet it never does, for she is born lucky and pampered and cushioned.

Then one day I realised that I do not really hate her, I hate what she stands for - everything I have never had nor can ever have...and the word for that is jealousy.

I am jealous of her being so glowingly healthy, while I am slowly wasting away in an incurable disease.

I am jealous of her having lots of money that she has never had to work a day for, wile all I have is huge debts after working several jobs at the same time for a long time.

I am jealous f her having a family that has always been there supporting her no matter what she wants to do, while my family couldn't care less if I was dead or alive.

I am jealous of her always having good luck, while I am constantly overwhelmed by bad karma.

I am jealous of how people adore her at first sight no matter how badly she behaves, while they hate me even before they met me.

I am jealous of her long black hair and petite figure, while I am dull and flat

I am jealous of her artistic skills that seems to come so effortlessly, while I have none despite my many years of trying.

I am jealous of her innocence in not understanding how much she hurts people, while I am too aware for my own good.

...but most of all I am jealous of how everyone came to her defence when she backstabbed me in the most cruellest way possible.

She has made me lose some of my faith in humans.

My jealousy of her has become hate because she makes me in to a person I do not want to be. I hate the me that is jealous of her.

I cannot escape it, for I am not strong enough, yet, but I have decided to try hard, to fight this feeling, this jealousy and maybe one day I wile be able to stand next to her and not wish that the roof would cave in on her and crush her to a pulp before my feet.

but not yet...

Pillowbook "that feeling you do not want to name"

Whenever my mother writes to me she always ends her letters with "how can you go on like that.." or "can you really work in those conditions..", "you won't be able to do that will you?" and so on and so forth. (Don't get me wrong, it has nothing to do with my excellent work that I love, but with the fact that I have a medical condition that makes it harder for me to do what everyone else takes for granted...)
The words are clear, she is worried about me and wants what is best for me, as any mother would.

Yet, I cannot shake of this feeling that what she really says is "fail as soon as possible so I don't have to think about it...".

I am sure many would disagree with me and say "of course she wouldn't want that" but then again, I know things about my mother that they don't, and it is this knowledge that makes me hear things that she doesn't say out loud.

I try not to let it get to me, but in all honesty, it would be wonderful to instead hear her say "You are great fighting like that, we are right behind you cheering you on!" instead of "just give up".

but then again, she has never cheered me on in anything else either and that hasn't stopped me from travelling the world, getting my specific education and a job I love.

Still, just once, I would be wonderful to hear my mother praise me. Just once.

Pillowbook "are you bored yet? "

I had a visitor as I was lying in in my hospital bed hooked up to a breathing machine, two IV's in my arm and a nose tube for feeding, who suddenly asked me:
"Aren't you bored lying here and having nothing to do?"

I didn't have anything nice to say because all that comes out is: You wouldn't understand.

Boring is something healthy people do. If you are really, really sick you don't get bored. Because every cell, every fiber in your body is working so hard to keep you alive, focused only on one thing: survival.

Asking a mortally ill person if they are bored is like asking the guy who fought a grizzly, got his arm ripped off and then stumbled through the forest for days in search of help: "Wasn't it boring to walk that distant, there was nothing but forest to see?"

So next time you visit someone very sick, instead of stupid questions, hold their hand and tell them everything about the world outside. Tell them of things you have done and people you have met, or even better how much you like them and wait for them to get better so you can together go and do all these things.

but most of all...just hold their hand...

...

what are you waiting for?