…. I am not. I am not high. I don’t do drugs, abuse alcohol, never done weed, don’t and never have liked the bar scene, don’t understand any of why people do th- oh WAIT. It’s to escape reality. Oh yeah, *psh* adult life is brutal. How did I not know this? Tinker Bell and Peter Pan and the creators who made them (Disney *cough* – Walt Disney is my non-idol id– I mean, the man I aspire to be. I mean, wait, I like being a woman, dear God, please don’t give me facial/armpit/other hairs… ok moving on) – they really knew what they were doing. How have the vast amounts of ancient biblical and spiritual wisdom and cosmic truths all converged into *teeny,tiny,itty,bitty* moments in these brilliant Disney movies for KIDS. Epiphany. I’m convinced when you reach some higher level of spiritual knowing in this universe, you realize the best crowd to share this with are NOT in fact proud, loud, arrogant, opinionated, morphed, warped ADULTS. Nooooo, it’s that future generation, those young’ins, them little people with little feet and unblemished minds and beautiful spirits. We want to preserve their souls and KEEP THEM AWAY FROM THE WORLD OF REALITY. Oh kids, if you could only be like Peter Pan… future daughter, future son, future child and grandchildren …. YOU ARE LOVED and PLEASE DON’T GROW UP. I never got this, until I realized how truly FREE being unadulterated is. And a lot of kids miss this because of childhood trauma… but that’s a different story for a different type of weather.
I came on here really because MY COMPANY IS HEMORRHAGING EMPLOYEES. (THAT IS SUCH A WEIRD WORD, WHO INVENTS WORDS WITH SILENT ‘H’S??!) I get so inexplicably irked when someone envies my position without realizing all my battle scars. It’s like walking up to a marine (I’m not comparing myself to a marine, don’t misinterpret that >.> I don’t get that honor as I never made that sacrifice. For those of you who served, thank you for your service….!) and being like “Oh you get all the benefits, how lucky are you” and not acknowledging their missing limb or their perpetually traumatized state of being. When I attended MITOC camping/hiking trips, on our way to the Intervale cabin, we had to “trespass” along someone’s backyard – there was no other route, quite literally. If MIT students say there’s no other way, you best believe, there’s no other way. Unless perhaps they invent teleportation or something, which I won’t rule out. Anyway, the man who lived there hated it. I always felt so bad for him – he had some PTSD trauma from a war (Afghanistan? I don’t know his whole story) so each time he heard sounds in the backyard, like a bunch of us hikers wearing huge backpacks trekking past, he would have a psychological episode. =_= “Excuse me sir… we’re just… trying to get to a mountain. Sorry for bringing vivid memories of being bombed to you….” Pretty awful… I wondered if there was a different way. Maybe some type of device that would communicate with him that a group of us were passing, so that he wouldn’t be alarmed and think he was being attacked?!
Anyway, here’s my “you-don’t-understand” comic.
(Shoot. Can I even include that stuff here. I probably need to censor some of that. AGHHHH. *thinking* Please come back later.)