The party.
Unlike any baby shower you'll find in Canada.
Canada? Ladies only for the most part.
Silly games to keep us entertained, refreshments with a few tame drinks.
Music on, really only for ambiance.
Baby shower in Dominican Republic?
Co-ed, rum being chugged before it's poured into the glass.
Music so loud, there's no point having a conversation.
I filmed people dancing instead.
Our Fave's Mom looked so damn beautiful.
I've never seen her look so good, because the poor thing is so damn pregnant, she doesn't have the energy to fancy herself up.
Damn she's beautiful with her hair down and those massive breasts spilling out of her Spanish style top.
I actually didn't recognize her at first!
I had a tour of their fruit trees, pigs and chickens.
We're talking at least 20 fuzzy, baby chicks too.
Holding them to give me so much love that I need right now.
They chirped in my ear, "I love you, it's really good to be alive!"
Yeah, you're not old enough to know how bad life really gets.
Oh, but you won't be saying that when it's YOUR turn to be in the pot of food they were cooking for the party last night.
I was also the tester of the food to see if it was good.
Good?!?!
Oh I can't even tell you the flavours they use here.
I was grateful to be the tester.
Papi kept disappearing. Understandable. His social anxiety is worse than mine.
He was supposed to be behind the camera to keep himself busy so he didn't feel uncomfortable, but people were shy in front of him.
He handed it back to me.
The 2nd time he disappeared, I went to the house to get the flash for the camera.
I saw it.
A pint of beer poured.
My heart stopped, my stomach erupted through my head and the tears were being held back with all my force.
I was supposed to go back and take pics of Our Fave's Mom opening her gifts.
No time to cry.
As soon as I was done however, I went home to find that Papi didn't drink the beer.
Not because he came to his senses, but because he was caught in the act.
His way of dealing is to relapse.
My way to deal with depression is to get so angry that my yelling actually scares away all the animals, for fear that they will be pulled into the eye of Hurricane Andréa.
Normally, they see me as all love.
I'm hurting and scared and feel so isolated, so when there were no friends to speak to by way of internet, well, I lost it.
Papi's grieving.
Today we put down Psycho Kitty.
Poor little critter has had enough. I keep begging him to go to the angels on his own, but he's just too much of a fighter.
I've had enough of watching him suffer, not being able to even open his mouth enough to eat.
Papi's had enough of watching his little love slowly die before him.
Beyond the dying cat, there is so much exhaustion and trouble to deal with that we're at the point where we half heartedly spoke about the convenience of there being two guns for a double suicide.
This is not paradise.
Paradise is not a place.
Paradise is in your heart.
A beautiful view of the ocean does not cure a mental chemical imbalance.
Unlike any baby shower you'll find in Canada.
Canada? Ladies only for the most part.
Silly games to keep us entertained, refreshments with a few tame drinks.
Music on, really only for ambiance.
Baby shower in Dominican Republic?
Co-ed, rum being chugged before it's poured into the glass.
Music so loud, there's no point having a conversation.
I filmed people dancing instead.
Our Fave's Mom looked so damn beautiful.
I've never seen her look so good, because the poor thing is so damn pregnant, she doesn't have the energy to fancy herself up.
Damn she's beautiful with her hair down and those massive breasts spilling out of her Spanish style top.
I actually didn't recognize her at first!
I had a tour of their fruit trees, pigs and chickens.
We're talking at least 20 fuzzy, baby chicks too.
Holding them to give me so much love that I need right now.
They chirped in my ear, "I love you, it's really good to be alive!"
Yeah, you're not old enough to know how bad life really gets.
Oh, but you won't be saying that when it's YOUR turn to be in the pot of food they were cooking for the party last night.
I was also the tester of the food to see if it was good.
Good?!?!
Oh I can't even tell you the flavours they use here.
I was grateful to be the tester.
Papi kept disappearing. Understandable. His social anxiety is worse than mine.
He was supposed to be behind the camera to keep himself busy so he didn't feel uncomfortable, but people were shy in front of him.
He handed it back to me.
The 2nd time he disappeared, I went to the house to get the flash for the camera.
I saw it.
A pint of beer poured.
My heart stopped, my stomach erupted through my head and the tears were being held back with all my force.
I was supposed to go back and take pics of Our Fave's Mom opening her gifts.
No time to cry.
As soon as I was done however, I went home to find that Papi didn't drink the beer.
Not because he came to his senses, but because he was caught in the act.
His way of dealing is to relapse.
My way to deal with depression is to get so angry that my yelling actually scares away all the animals, for fear that they will be pulled into the eye of Hurricane Andréa.
Normally, they see me as all love.
I'm hurting and scared and feel so isolated, so when there were no friends to speak to by way of internet, well, I lost it.
Papi's grieving.
Today we put down Psycho Kitty.
Poor little critter has had enough. I keep begging him to go to the angels on his own, but he's just too much of a fighter.
I've had enough of watching him suffer, not being able to even open his mouth enough to eat.
Papi's had enough of watching his little love slowly die before him.
Beyond the dying cat, there is so much exhaustion and trouble to deal with that we're at the point where we half heartedly spoke about the convenience of there being two guns for a double suicide.
This is not paradise.
Paradise is not a place.
Paradise is in your heart.
A beautiful view of the ocean does not cure a mental chemical imbalance.
i offer a sincere apology to those affected by my anger
how can I box up enough hope n healing for you two - to ease you through this grief and quell fears and sorrow. I wish you both reconnect to that amazing place where things are wonderful, exciting and joyful.
ReplyDeletesounds like your new friend and you have some great kitchen cook off times ahead of you... and other girly things to talk about / do together. I hope you've found your Dominican BFF in her.
baby chicks! and piglets! there's some fine amusement to be had. did ya know piglets bark like puppies?!?
I really hope E can find a buddy for himself. someone to do zero-alcohol stuff with. there has got to be another trans dude or cool guy or gal for him to hang with. Effun universe better provide! tip the scales in your favour and knock off with the crisis/testing shite.
as for the little fuzzy soul now resting in the garden... hugs.
big warm new bed pile of fuzzies loving cuddle session just being holding each other hug fest.
I'm prescribing you take one at night and two everyday.
Dr. Huck - out.
we just need some good. it's hard to see the good with the bad is bombarding you with negativity.
Deletebut i'm trying.
we're both trying in our own way.
i'll try even harder tomorrow.
i need to get strict with myself, because i'm falling. i can't fall. not now. there's no time and people don't need to see me at my worst in my first 3 months here. i'll save that for a year when they actually think i'm ok.
then i'll shock them with just how fucking nuts i really am.
i'll keep hiding it.
and writing about it.
and crying when i need to.
and searching for my inner paradise.
hey the way things are going this week - I might join you in completing the journey to total nuttersville!
ReplyDelete-H
i am pretty sure you're already there with me.
Delete