Tag Archives: Life

My Open Letter To Life

20 Aug

I recently saw a post on my reader that talked about “open letters”. The purpose of an open letter is to let go of old demons, establish closure and talk about your problems with yourself. You can write open letters on many different mediums (blogs, facebook posts, ‘ol paper and pencil, smoke signals, etc.) and they can prove to be very effective. I’ve read quite a few in my life and I have to say they can be extremely powerful things. Many people criticize the The Art of the Open Letter and deem it as a way to gain attention (AKA what most people in my generation label as “thirsty”).

I’m generally not a very emotional person, to be honest. I prefer to mask emotions with two things; laughter or awkwardness. Who doesn’t like laughter? I learned at a very early age that it’s never okay to cry to show weakness, laugh it off and keep that shit rolling.

“The best comedians are those with the most messed up life”

So i’m going a little unorthodox in the general style of the ‘ol blog and NOT write a list, bullet points or anything organized in the least. I try not to complain about life and the things it shoves at me very often, but everyone needs to let go once in awhile. So heads up to those reading, this is going to be about ME. If you don’t like reading about pity parties, sob stories or emotions, this is NOT the post for you. If you go to my home page, you’ll find some really great cat pictures somewhere in various posts. To those of you who are not pro open-letter:Go roll a joint full of rat poisoning and smoke it. Make some meth cookies while your at it. Your opinion is irrelevant to my life. So, here it goes. This, is my open letter to life.

Dear Life,

I’ve never quite understood “you”. I put “you” lightly because I don’t exactly know what “you” are. Are you a person? Who is your mom? We all have moms. Well, some of us don’t. Dear life, why do you take away some peoples moms? It really sucks to say the least. No one deserves to have their mom taken away. Its hard to watch someone you love go through that. What did they ever do to you to have their mom taken away? That my friend, is a really mean thing you sick bastard. Let’s take away your mom and see how you like it. But we (I say “we” loosely because I’m pretty sure I stand alone on this subject matter) can’t take away you mom but we have morals. Dear life, what did I do to you to hate me? Did I shit in your cereal? Did I steal your toy at recess? I’ve always tried to be a nice person but god damn (god is a whole different story…sorry god), you make things really difficult. I’ve become great at wearing masks and painting pictures of perfect scenarios that fly through my head. I laugh things off because crying would be out of the question. What else was little me supposed to do? My life wasn’t supposed to end up like this; I was supposed to be a normal child who acts like the rest of them. Perfect mind, perfect body and a pure soul. People tell me I have an “old soul”. Whatever the fuck that is supposed to mean, I just hope it doesn’t mean my soul is wrinkly. Gross.

I was standing in the elevator and I got to bring a friend. Half the kids laughed because only the “special kids” took the elevator and half the kids were enamored with the fact I was riding the elevator. Wait, was it bad to be “special”? I thought everyone is special? Am I not special enough or am I TOO special? I got these pills and these shots, cool physical therapy doctors and some stretchy band. I guess only the “special” kids got them. Am I flawed? Is it wrong to be the way I am? It kind of sucks. I dislocated my finger trying my shoe, my elbow popped out of place when I reached back to turn off the shower and I wear slippers to school because my feet hurt too bad to wear shoes. I take these shots. They’re supposed to not make me sick but in all reality I puke, lose my hair and can’t be near pregnant people. That’s cool. Nothing got better, nothing gets better and I’m still “special”. Life, I’ve been around for a good chunk of time and I decided to give up on the shots and pills and stretchy bands. You know why that sucks life? Because I don’t know what’s gonna happen next.

Freshman year is a scary time. A really scary time. Armpits smell weird, vaginas are a hot commodity and wearing floss up your ass is totally a social norm. I was scared, I was confused and I clung to whatever could get me through the scary time. Life, you were throwing a lot of stuff at me. Life, you made my sister sick and almost let her die. Taking away a cat, is a bitch move. Taking away someone’s mom is unbearable but trying to take away someone’s sister? Now that’s just a straight up dick move. Don’t do that again, kay thanks. Do you know what else is mean? Taking something away that shouldn’t be taken away. Life, letting something like that slide is not cool. But do you know what life? It’s okay, I took the blame for things you should have stopped. I still suffer the consequences of what you did every single day and you don’t even care. Life, you changed me for forever and I’ll probably never forgive you for that. Thanks for keeping my sister though, that was pretty nice of you I have to admit. Life, freshman year was a scary time and I’m still mad at you that you didn’t help me.

Music is cool. What kind of music do you like, life? I love music. I want to teach people music. That’s what I wanna be when I grow up, life. I want to be a music teacher. Teachers are really strange people, ya know? Do you think I will end up like one of them? I don’t want to end up wearing knee-length jeans skirts and wreak of coffee breath, no thanks. Life, I had this really cool teacher once. I loved that teacher. Not one of those weird, illegal kinds of love, but a love as in “hey-I-love-you-because-you’re-my-role-model”. Do you know what you did though, life? You let them leave. You let other people bully them out of leaving. Life, I don’t understand why you’re so possessive over your people. Sheesh. Do you know what that did? That left a hole in my life. Have you ever lost a role model, life? Is that why you did it? Did someone leave you? If so, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry actually because I know how much it hurts. But it’s okay life, I found a new role model. I loved them a lot, too. We were close and I trusted them with my life. Life, you would have really liked them. You would have never guessed what happened though! My role model left me, life. My role model hurt me. I cried a lot. I cried in the bathroom, clinging to the dirty floor because I was afraid it was gonna be the last thing I touched. Why did you let that happen life? I cried, I was sad and lost my passion for living. Life, I’m still mad at you because you let me lay on the bathroom floor and cry.

Life, has anyone told you they didn’t like you? Usually I ignore people who say they don’t like me. I was taught that those people aren’t worth your time. You know what is worth your time though, life? Living. Living is most definitely worth it, or else you’d be dead. Has anyone ever told you to die, life? It hurts. It hurts a lot to say the least. There’s moments when you ask yourself if you should listen to those people. Sticks and stones break your bones and hurt, but words stay branded in your brain for life. I remember the first time I was told I wasn’t pretty enough. Boys can’t judge what’s pretty, right? Aren’t boys like, colorblind? I remember the first time called me a degrading name. I listen to those same words in music, but I didn’t think it would happen to me. A bruise hurts, I’ve had those before. Purple, blue and yellow. Then it gets itchy sometimes because it’s “healing”.  When am I gonna feel “itchy”? I’ve waited for the colors to change.. Why did you let that happen, life? Did a boy call you ugly? Did a girl call you ugly? If so, I’m really sorry but it’s not a good excuse to let it happen to me. Life, i’m still mad at you for letting them brand my brain.

I’ve learned to be a really good painter, did I tell you that? I can paint happy, sad, excited, nervous and sometimes even no expression at all. Life, I’ve gotten really good at painting faces. Life, do you wear a mask? Just kidding! That’s a silly question to ask. I’ve never seen you before, so you must wear a whole different mask of your own. Do you paint happy pictures? It doesn’t seem like you do. You paint gray skies, sharp mountains and even lower valleys. You paint little raindrops that form tears, feelings that make themselves into cuts and scrapes and scenarios that turn angry. Do you like that? I think they have words for people like you, but I can’t exactly spell them. So if you’re one of those people, stop. Do you need to borrow a mask ever? I have an extra in my pocket if you’d like to borrow it. I put it on when people laugh at me. My mask has gotten so good at laughing on it’s own, I don’t even have to try anyone. My mask has gotten so routine it doesn’t even come off of my face sometimes. Life, did you glue my mask on my face? If so, it’s not  very funny. No one ever asks me to take off my mask though. I feel like people always ask if my mask is okay with things and my mask lies for me. One of these days life, I’m gonna rip that mask of and say it’s not okay. The mask has become a people pleaser, which is weird because, that’s not who I am? Isn’t that strange, life? I wish people would be considerate of my feelings sometimes. Life, why did you give me  a paintbrush? I don’t think we can be friends anymore life… I’m sorry.

Feelings are really strange things, huh? Do you have feelings life? Wait.. Is that too personal to ask? I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, I hope you’re not going to be mad. Everyone has feelings though, right? Right? Sometimes I wish feelings didn’t exist. Well, then I couldn’t love my cats. Okay, sometimes I wish every feeling besides loving your cat would disappear. Sometimes I lie and say I’m feeling nothing at all. Is it okay to feel for something that doesn’t feel for you back? What if they don’t have feelings at all? I know some hollow people and I don’t know how they live my life. Everyone tells me to stay away from hollow people because they are no good. For some reason I keep on gravitating to all of the hollow people, hoping that feelings will fill up their holes, too. Like a tree, ya know? Life, do you think that can happen to people? Do you think people’s holes will fill up like tree’s fill up with critters? Or like McDonalds fills up with fast food junkies? Life, do you think it could happen? I really wish that would happen. For now I’m going to try to stay away from all of these hollow people. I think I found out why feelings people like hollow people. Hollow people are like those little cubbies from pre-school. I’d put my backpack in the cubby for most of the day until it was time to leave and the cubby wouldn’t feel any sadness. My backpack would feel really sad though. I am like my backpack and hollow people are like the cubbies; I put my backpack in the cubby when I need to and take it out when I have to. I feel sad like my backpack, but the cubby just sits there and acts like a cubby. Do cubbies have feeling, life? I sure hope so, cubbies are so cool. Life, do you have hollow people? I just want to be loved by hollow people. I just want to be loved by hollow people, is that so wrong life? I’m not going to ever understand why you made backpacks and cubbies, life. I’m just not.

Life, I really don’t understand you and I’m not going to ever try. I’m never going to try to forgive you because I should be allowed to be bitter. Is that so wrong, life? Is it so fucking wrong that I’m not laughing off all of your feelings? I don’t want to laugh all of the time, I’m done painting and I’m done waiting for my bruises to turn itchy. Life, you’re always going to be a giant jerk to me and I’m never going to forgive you. Do you know what the funniest thing of this whole thing is? I don’t even know if you’re listening to me life. I can’t even tell if you’re even a real “you”. Life, you can go suck a big one because I’m done trying to be nice to you.

Dear life, you’ve really thrown me through a loop. But you know what? Thank you for making me the wrinkly old soul. Thank you for making me the “special” kid in the elevator. Thank you so much for stealing things away from me. Thank you for letting me cry on the bathroom floor and letting all those kids tell me to die. Thank you for not letting my bruises ever get itchy. Thank you for making me a brilliant painter. Thank you for making me a backpack and letting me find useless cubbies.

Life, thank you giving me inspiration to wrinkle my soul and stay special, cry on the floor and wait for my bruises to get itchy and to someday find another backpack just like me.

Best Wishes,

Bella Schaefer

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Life is A Disease With a 100% Mortality Rate

17 Jun

To any who have noticed (That’s like seven people) I haven’t worked thee ol’ blog in awhile. I usually try to stray away from excuses but I think i’d have a pretty good excuse lately. Have you or a loved one ever been blessed with Mono? If you haven’t, don’t. I repeat, run for the damn hills. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars and sit in jail if that’s what it takes to avoid Mono at all costs. School got out on June 6th for me and I swear to all things holy that the whole last week of school was hell because I couldn’t function. So to say the least, i’ve been a little out of it after 3 trips to the hospital and too many bottles of Percocet later. I’m not much of the debby downer type usually, in all honesty. But lately life has really been hitting me lately. People always say When you’re going through hell, just keep on going! and sometimes I just have to put my foot down and say No, I’m actually gonna pop a squat here and enjoy the scenery of hell and wait for someone to come along who knows what they’re doing. Then there’s that “Never give up” cheerleader part that everyone has that screams Kum-Bye-Yah in your ear and says keep going. After a few events in my life have happened i’ve realized that is OK to just be OK. You can’t just be happy all of the time and sometimes life’s gonna give you troubles that you’re not going to be able to handle right away. While I was in the hospital for the first round my dad was trying to create light conversation and I have no clue how he got on the topic, but he pops off with the strangest thing i’d ever heard him say. I told him “Dad, I think i’m dying”. He chuckled a bit and said, “well, we’re all dying”. I had heard that too many times and I tried convincing him, “well then dad, i’m dying a little bit faster than the rest”. He than said the thing that inspired today’s blog post: “Well, I was told once by a doctor that life is just a disease with a 100% mortality rate”. In that instance my heart sank to my butt as I realized how painstakingly true that it. I actually laughed a lot after he said that, we both did our fair share of laughing together. I got to the hospital and the doctor came in and did the routine “What are you in for” and he honestly didn’t believe me when I tried to convince him that I was dying. So he responded with the same ol’ “we’re all dying every day” (except make his voice really dumb and full of nasal tones, because that’s what I heard it as) and proceeded on with his routine examination. Leaving the hospital that night, I thought a lot about death and life. For those of you who have made it this far reading, I really am proud of you because i’m sure you’re all thinking the same thing: This girl needs prozac. But I really did start thinking about life and death. I always feel some sort of sadness people who are so burried in someone other than their will-power and self-determination (I may or may not be referencing things such as religion in this chunk here for those of you who are in touch with your religious sides). I’m not saying that i feel bad because people are religious, but i’m saying that sometimes people forget to lean on themselves. Leaning on whatever Godly figure floats your boat is awesome because we all need something else to lean on. But I start to feel bad when people can’t look to themselves for guidance or strength, they let “let jesus take the wheel” and walk away from life as a whole. Like, no. Grab that wheel and drive your life. And referencing the earlier text, if your wheel is spinning out of control, then stop driving. Pull over. Sometimes when you’re going through a tough time, it’s OK to be OK. Don’t always hand the wheel over to someone else, look within yourself and go from there. (Okay, the safest thing to do in this situation is clearly to pull over and call for help or something because if you’re not mentally stable to be driving because you’re consider letting someone else take the steering wheel for you while you’re driving, then this situation is far too much for our friend Ms. Underwood to help you with. I didn’t want to include this is the actual message because it’s kind of counterproductive but seriously, if you’re not feeling right in the noggin, call someone) Now girls are wired a bit differenly than guys, so when we “look within” we find like seven different emotions and a bottle of midol, so our choices to solve the situation are a bit more complicated. I’m not really quite sure what happens when guys “look within” and to be quite honest, I’m not sure I ever want to find out.

So to recap today, let’s just end with the following reminders:

  • When you’re going through hell, it’s okay to sit down, enjoy the scenery and wait for someone who looks like they know what to do.
  • It’s OK to be OK.
  • Lean on yourself and don’t always give the wheel to someone else
  • Life is a disease with a 100% mortality rate

So if you’ve made it to the end of this, I applaud you. Thank as always!

What comes after death?

25 May

I’ve been doing a lot of thinking in the past few weeks about life and things of that nature. Within a very short span, my community has faced so many different tragedies and obstacles. We’ve had deaths, accidents and injuries. What really never ceases to amaze me is the strength our community has to blend as one family. I’ve grown up in this town for majority of my life and i’ve still never felt like one of “the towns own” because of my lack of a certain heritage. While I don’t feel part of this community, I do feel one thing; compassion. I’ve always been taught to Treat everyone with kindness, regardless of who they are and whether you like them or not and that has stuck with my entire life. In the face of hardships, that’s exactly what this town does, it smiles and waves and moves on. That makes me happy. Slightly emotional and sentimental, but happy. We stick together, love together and learn together. With that being said, I will brush over a “touchy” subject. When a life is lost and moves on to a greater place, what do we as the people “mourning” do? When I mourn, I cry and get angry. I don’t like death. Not even so much death, I don’t like letting go. One thing I’ve noticed in this town is that when people “mourn”, they roll em’ up, light em’ up and smoke em’ up. (Not everyone, but i’ve heard stories of people lighting it up right outside of the funeral home) I don’t know about you, but white-girl-wasted doesn’t exactly seem like much of a celebration about life. Celebrate life in a way that doesn’t harm your life. I’ve been the type of person to deal with death in different ways. Believe it or not, i’m not that much of an emotional person in public. I don’t like crying and all that jazz. Not my thing. I have cried at funerals, yes, but i’m the bottle-it-up type. In light of the recent deaths, one hopes that the family and friends find piece and DON’T bottle it up. It’s a sad time, but the community comes together. Unfortunately the ways of mourning aren’t all the same. Death. It’s a strange phenomena but it happens.

“That’s what comes after death, a memory treasure.”

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