Heather Glasses
Bio
you probably think you know me better than I know myself…
Stories (2)
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BUS ROUTE
Its probably a twisted fantasy; more than most daydreams… but sobriety does that to me. Living here has me existing in my consciousness. My mom constantly wanting to be praised and seen as the boss. Its fucking exhausting! I used to argue a lot more with her. Constantly needing to prove my point. Lately, I try to bite my tongue. Knowing she’s been worse… My dad, he’s a quiet, hard worker. Then my siblings also wary, with kiss ass agreements always in place. They thoroughly have zero back bone. Always in agreement. Even when it ruins their chances. I should have known to stay away. But it’s the only place I had left. I shouldn’t be annoyed of that fact but I am. It’s truly pointless to argue back with her. As I get older, her ways become even more obvious. Like what the hell do you think this is? Children are for life! Not just 18 years. If you couldn’t accept that responsibility, WHY DID YOU KEEP HAVING CHILDREN? Never the less, I continue to love, reflect, understand and forgive. My family must drive into town to buy food and goods. The stores are two hours away. I would literally have to tell them some bullshit excuse of why I’m leaving. When I’ll be back… it’s like being a child, living in your parent’s home all over again.
By Heather Glasses6 years ago in Motivation
Baby Doll
I was coming up on a quarter century... So far, it was a life perfectly thrown in the gutter. Its almost too easy to convince yourself you do have sky high aspirations. Heroin is lovely at making it ALL feel extra magical. Masking her pain inside daydreams of luxury. You 'nod' out for a break of visions. Some wild, some weird, all of them pure joy. Nothing about the mundane day can touch you. Not with this escape. Every participant is apart of a delusion-ally incredible existence. Even sitting in a room all day; sky high full of kitten shit, wont phase you. You could see someone scouring the grungy, dust-mitten house; looking for a clear water bottle. Something 'clean' for that hit of pure orgasm.
By Heather Glasses6 years ago in Psyche
