Little things.

Once upon a time I was a three-year old girl with a small, pink framed princess bed that I loved to lay on ONLY IN THE DAYTIME because fuck that shit I slept with my momma at bedtime and left my baby sister in our room with the ghost by herself. Anyway, I still remember falling back onto that cute, little bed a few times and thinking to myself how wonderful life was. I felt like I had it all in those moments – just a big girl in her big girl bed that she was NOT afraid of because it was daytime muhahaha. Additionally, I remember so distinctly, even at that age, wanting more. For me, probably like for most young girls, I believe the first thing I really yearned for as a child was a true love. I didn’t quite grasp the concept of husband or monogamy yet, but boy did I understand that I wanted a man to fall in love with me and I with him and for us to be eternally happy together. Surprisingly, I can’t recall much consideration into being a mother throughout my entire childhood. Actually, if anything, I would fantasize about being a foster mom to different children in need of genuine lovin’ care, maybe adopting a few along the way – but it wasn’t as solid of a surety to me as was finding a man to love. In fact, the only other burning desire I had, or my earliest of suresties, was making something of myself – particularly in regard to my education. How does a child know that about themselves? Granted, this one didn’t develop until about five or six years old I would say. But when it did…it did. I guess my point is, both of those things have unintentionally stayed the same in my life since I was just a little girl. It’s easy to write off the true love desire as being heavily influenced by all of the Disney princesses I was bombarded with right off the bat (born in ’93) and all of the fairytales we’re told. Still, the desire to immerse myself in education baffles me particularly because of my environment at the time. I did not have role models suggesting to me that education was fun or whathaveyou. Disney romance may have nurtured me but I am special by nature – and that is me in a nutshell lollolllolol. For real though lol. I did a lotta weird creepy shit for a baby, had that whole isolation thing/too shy to talk thing until I was 6. That – you see, that. Ha. I think back and can likewise remember that time so vividly as well. Being in my first year of preschool, being so sensitive to the vibes of others ha – some may just write that off as sensitive, but I feel that’s a more appropriate term when the individual does nothing constructive with their feelings. Ha. You see, at five years old, while everyone in my class is playing with markers and sand and pushing and being gross and annoying, I couldn’t fucking take it. There was no peace. So I made it in my mind. That’s where I created Laurie Minga somewhere along the way – my imaginary friend who lived in the wall who’s dad was also in jail. Lol. Yeah – all sounds pretty crazy I bet. But I am finding so much beauty in this right now. Even then, so early on, I knew it was not where I should be that’s where I wanted to be. No. Not with people just because they’re there. I didn’t try to fit in. I could have. I could have felt desperate. I could have felt needy. I could have felt hurt and wallowed in self pity because it wasn’t easy to be like them. But I fucking didn’t. Thank fucking god, I didn’t. Another thing that hasn’t changed. I am blessed with something so fucking unique, ha, my mind. My imagination. My creativity. My perception. My ability to love so deeply passionately the way that I do. If I am blessed for anything today it is how wonderful it is to be one of a kind. Most days it feels like shit, don’t let me fool you, ha. But really, honestly, truly, it’s the best god damn thing in the world and it fucking came naturally to me. Woot woot.

Purpose of that? Purpose you ask? Errrrm…Idunno. Just tried to think of a better time in my life and there was written the first couple lines! Though, wiser Cassandra reflects, it was not a better time but an earlier time. A time before outward acknowledgement and responsibility. Miss it? Maybe. Though isn’t that the easy way about it? Miss it because you can’t get it back so since that time in your life was so0o0o0o fucking good and you’ll never have it again why bother??? Fuck that. Fuck that thought to shit. My story is not written. I am writing it each and every second through the actions I exhibit. Yes, life’s challenges increase with age but so shouldn’t our ability to grow and adapt, ya? To accept and move on.

Ah…accept and move on. What an interesting concept. How funny it is that I wound up here. Accept and move on…what a process of pretend.



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