Just, What If?

Woahhhh

shil0h:

shil0h:

It was hot today. My aunt suggested I roll the car window down and ask the Marine in full uniform if he wanted a ride; we were heading to section 60. He was surprised and said that was where he was heading, too, and got into our car. They chatted back and forth and I sat quietly in the passenger seat. We parked under some trees and my aunt gave the boy a hug and her condolences. He was visiting his captain. That was the first time I almost cried. She hugged a complete stranger and created such a strong bond with someone she’d only known for about three minutes.
She and I stood and began separating the flowers. I made sure each bouquet had equal red and white carnations. I didn’t want one soldier to get more to the other. I finished counting and we each held small, but beautiful, bouquets of red and white flowers for soldiers we had never met. I never even knew of them before this morning and I was carrying flowers to one of them. We walked past rows and rows of white stones. Some had roses on top; some had rocks; all had American flags. As we walked the graves became more decorated and surrounded by people.
They were recent.
We found our row and began walking. I watched the numbers on the backs of the stones get smaller as we got closer. Part of me wished that the couple sitting in chairs were paying their respects to a soldier next to ours. What do I say to them if they’re sitting at the grave we’re visiting? These graves became campsites for the day. Campsites for grieving family members sitting in chairs, on the grass, standing- all spending Memorial Day with the people they lost. I’m used to spending Memorial Day with my family and friends while we laugh and eat good food. These people sat around tombstones. Tombstones of sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, siblings, etc., that they would never see again. They sat with them all day long.
We got to our two graves, and despite that tiny hope inside of me, the couple was the parents of one of our two soldiers. My aunt was amazing. She hugged them, told them how she knew their son, said she was sorry for their loss, and talked to them about everything. I can’t even really remember exactly what was said. I stood a couple feet away and fidgeted with the umbrella in my hands. I looked at the sky, at the row of graves, at my feet. I looked anywhere except for the faces of the soldier’s parents. That was their baby. Their son. I was bringing flowers to their dead son.
We placed the flowers on his grave among all of the other things left before we came. A grape soda, a snack, pictures of his wife and son, flowers, a wreath, stones, and countless other decorations. They sat in chairs with umbrellas and a cooler on their son’s grave. Just the two of them. They came all the way from Tennessee to sit with him and to meet the people he knew. To talk to people who knew their son and to hear about him- hear anything.
The second soldier we came to visit was also a friend of my cousin’s. He was buried next to the first soldier just one day later. Side by side. My aunt placed the flowers on his grave and I was sad that he was alone today. Nobody was camping out on his grave. Nobody brought him a drink or a snack. There were some flowers and a pinwheel, and our flowers. I was happy we brought him some- it made it a little brighter.
The mom of the first soldier brought us to another grave, about twenty stones down, of another soldier from the same division as the two we visited and my cousin. All around me were young men and women, not much older than me, who had died. There were graves without grass or tombstones- people who had been buried this month. Fresh graves.
I looked around at the families sitting and thinking. The families taking pictures with gravestones in place of loved ones. The dirt and hay on top of someone I will never meet. I’m not sure exactly where I’m going with this post, but I know I need to remember this. I need to remember the feelings and emotions I’ve been struggling with all day since.
This was one of the saddest and most moving and humbling experiences I have ever had. I was grateful nobody under those tombstones belonged to my family, but when I think about it- they do. That could have just as easily been my cousin. My dad. My grandfather. My family has been to war and fought next to these men and women.
It could have been us. The people buried there are the ones that didn’t make it, the ones that helped my family stay safe. I will forever be grateful for that and, to me, they are just as much my family as anyone blood related to me. We’re all fighting for the same thing and our families endure the same struggles. These families are the strongest I know.
We walked and saw the grave I have pictured here. I came home and looked him up to see what he was awarded the Medal of Honor for. You can read about it here. I wished I had had flowers left over to put on his grave, too.
I don’t know if this makes sense. I’ll probably wish I had edited it or tried to make it more eloquent in the morning. But for now, I can’t. I have too many feelings and too few words to do that. I hope you all stopped for a couple minutes today and really thought about what Memorial Day means to you and to those we keep in our hearts. Today was a hard day, but today was a good day. I learned a little and grew a lot.
I hope they all rest in peace. &&I hope they liked the flowers.

Here’s my post about Memorial Day last year. I still think about this day often and tell my friends about it. I hope you all have a great day and remember why it’s so important!

shil0h:

It was hot today. My aunt suggested I roll the car window down and ask the Marine in full uniform if he wanted a ride; we were heading to section 60. He was surprised and said that was where he was heading, too, and got into our car. They chatted back and forth and I sat quietly in the passenger seat. We parked under some trees and my aunt gave the boy a hug and her condolences. He was visiting his captain. That was the first time I almost cried. She hugged a complete stranger and created such a strong bond with someone she’d only known for about three minutes.

She and I stood and began separating the flowers. I made sure each bouquet had equal red and white carnations. I didn’t want one soldier to get more to the other. I finished counting and we each held small, but beautiful, bouquets of red and white flowers for soldiers we had never met. I never even knew of them before this morning and I was carrying flowers to one of them. We walked past rows and rows of white stones. Some had roses on top; some had rocks; all had American flags. As we walked the graves became more decorated and surrounded by people.

They were recent.

We found our row and began walking. I watched the numbers on the backs of the stones get smaller as we got closer. Part of me wished that the couple sitting in chairs were paying their respects to a soldier next to ours. What do I say to them if they’re sitting at the grave we’re visiting? These graves became campsites for the day. Campsites for grieving family members sitting in chairs, on the grass, standing- all spending Memorial Day with the people they lost. I’m used to spending Memorial Day with my family and friends while we laugh and eat good food. These people sat around tombstones. Tombstones of sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, siblings, etc., that they would never see again. They sat with them all day long.

We got to our two graves, and despite that tiny hope inside of me, the couple was the parents of one of our two soldiers. My aunt was amazing. She hugged them, told them how she knew their son, said she was sorry for their loss, and talked to them about everything. I can’t even really remember exactly what was said. I stood a couple feet away and fidgeted with the umbrella in my hands. I looked at the sky, at the row of graves, at my feet. I looked anywhere except for the faces of the soldier’s parents. That was their baby. Their son. I was bringing flowers to their dead son.

We placed the flowers on his grave among all of the other things left before we came. A grape soda, a snack, pictures of his wife and son, flowers, a wreath, stones, and countless other decorations. They sat in chairs with umbrellas and a cooler on their son’s grave. Just the two of them. They came all the way from Tennessee to sit with him and to meet the people he knew. To talk to people who knew their son and to hear about him- hear anything.

The second soldier we came to visit was also a friend of my cousin’s. He was buried next to the first soldier just one day later. Side by side. My aunt placed the flowers on his grave and I was sad that he was alone today. Nobody was camping out on his grave. Nobody brought him a drink or a snack. There were some flowers and a pinwheel, and our flowers. I was happy we brought him some- it made it a little brighter.

The mom of the first soldier brought us to another grave, about twenty stones down, of another soldier from the same division as the two we visited and my cousin. All around me were young men and women, not much older than me, who had died. There were graves without grass or tombstones- people who had been buried this month. Fresh graves.

I looked around at the families sitting and thinking. The families taking pictures with gravestones in place of loved ones. The dirt and hay on top of someone I will never meet. I’m not sure exactly where I’m going with this post, but I know I need to remember this. I need to remember the feelings and emotions I’ve been struggling with all day since.

This was one of the saddest and most moving and humbling experiences I have ever had. I was grateful nobody under those tombstones belonged to my family, but when I think about it- they do. That could have just as easily been my cousin. My dad. My grandfather. My family has been to war and fought next to these men and women.

It could have been us. The people buried there are the ones that didn’t make it, the ones that helped my family stay safe. I will forever be grateful for that and, to me, they are just as much my family as anyone blood related to me. We’re all fighting for the same thing and our families endure the same struggles. These families are the strongest I know.

We walked and saw the grave I have pictured here. I came home and looked him up to see what he was awarded the Medal of Honor for. You can read about it here. I wished I had had flowers left over to put on his grave, too.

I don’t know if this makes sense. I’ll probably wish I had edited it or tried to make it more eloquent in the morning. But for now, I can’t. I have too many feelings and too few words to do that. I hope you all stopped for a couple minutes today and really thought about what Memorial Day means to you and to those we keep in our hearts. Today was a hard day, but today was a good day. I learned a little and grew a lot.

I hope they all rest in peace. &&I hope they liked the flowers.

Here’s my post about Memorial Day last year. I still think about this day often and tell my friends about it. I hope you all have a great day and remember why it’s so important!

The United States of America on college education

Student: I'm not going to go to college because I don't want to go into debt.
USA: YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT. YOU'RE GOING TO AMOUNT TO NOTHING YOU FUCKING SCUMBAG. YOU'RE THE REASON WHY MY TAXES ARE SO HIGH.
Student: I'm just going to attend a small community college instead.
USA: HAHAHA YOU WERE TOO STUPID TO GET INTO A GOOD UNIVERSITY. ENJOY YOUR MCDONALD'S DIPLOMA.
Student: I attended a four year university and received a diploma in a field I am interested in. Now I am $50,000+ in debt.
USA: YOU DUMBASS. WHY THE FUCK DID YOU GO TO COLLEGE WHEN YOU KNOW YOU COULDN'T AFFORD IT? YOU DIDN'T EVEN CHOOSE A USEFUL MAJOR EITHER. GOD PEOPLE LIKE YOU MAKE ME SICK.

Silent Rejection.

staypozitive:

You know what’s screwed up?

How someone can just decide to stop talking to you all of a sudden.

How someone can just stop replying to your text messages & phone calls when ya’ll talked not too long ago.

How someone can just have time to talk to other people but not you, anymore.

How someone can start ”talking” to someone else when you’re thinking ”We’re gonna be official, soon”.

Silent Rejection, kills.

funeraldawn:

thephrygiancap:

The elderly man being attacked by an Athens (Greece) cop in this photo is not a member of the black bloc or a nobody. It is Manolis Glezos, the Greek national hero who, on the 30th of May 1941 tore down the swastika flag from the Acropolis, an act for which he suffered torture and imprisonment. It was the first public act of the Resistance in Greece, only a month after the Nazi take-over.

Who would have dreamed that seventy years later, a dirty coward wearing a uniform serving the capitalists that do not even deserve to wipe the soles of his feet has the gall to touch/assault him?

this makes me sick.

I feel like shit. I just hate how everything I build gets torn down. Find a girl, get to the point where I say “hey, I actually like her. ” we didn’t date for long, but still shitty. This is the feeling I tried so hard to rid myself of for 22 months. I think maybe the thing that sucks the most is the fact we still wanna be together. But her mom. She got rid of me without ever getting to know me. Its just weird because we talked all day everyday since December and now not at all. I just like talking to people…now I feel so secluded. I hate this awkward ness…

Its gonna be difficult to find someone who isn’t ashamed to express feelings for me. Not saying I’m truly searching, but here and there I’ve had little things, none of them known by other people. She was the first in a long time to admit she was mine. And that was kinda cool…

Reblog if you truly enjoy giving oral sex.

You are a pretty picture, Worth a thousand words. Or perhaps a mural Worth ten thousand more.

These are a collection of haikus I decided to write over a period of about 3 days. They are title less. Here they are. They dont flow together at all, however you may see a few themes within a few of them.

Collection of thoughts.
Yes, some are good…some are bad.
But mostly crazy.

Not my usual—
A different take on things.
But change is vital.

Life lived from a book,
Such wasted intelligence.
Let’s be rational.

Looking into your
Amber eyes of innocence.
What beauty you have.

Chugga chug chug. OH!
Flying fists, but no fighting.
Its rough in the pit.

Volunteered for things
Beyond my own decision
I can’t make choices.

Burning skies on fire.
The plumes of smoke choking me.
I cannot breathe life.

Fast moving fingers
Sweeping away frustration
Endorphins released.

First burn of the day
Relaxation sets in hard
Just lie here with me

Sleep—calling my name
I’m wishing I could respond
With time, my precious.

I want to go back.
To vanilla flavored skies.
But now that is gone.

Making you feel a queen
Seen you like you’ve never been seen
I want to take you

Such differences
Yet were all kind of the same
Oh, but not really.

Today isn’t real
It is too strange and bizarre
What is going on?

Hello hello, love.
Oh how I’ve missed you greatly
You and your soft lips

I’m saying sorry,
In advance for what I do.
Please understand me.

Creativity…
Cannot be forced upon you.
Document. Always.

Pursuant headaches
Continually destroys
My ability

Touching, so entwined
Cries of of pleasure reaching out
Only so often.

Why spread hatred here?
Is it vital to your life?
It’s not. So please stop.

Scriptures of young boy.
A dark collection of thoughts.
So sick and twisted.

Such a surprising
Encounter, oh so lovely.
I wish there were more.

Such confusing acts,
What did I do to trigger?
I’d have never thought.

Middle class shrinking
The rich, evil men gaining.
The true are losing.

Vacation away
Out of here, where the sun warms
The coldest of bones.

I’m off to the east.
Dont miss me, I’m not worth it.
Truly, I’m just not.

Wrap my arms around
Your sweet, enticing body.
Always wanting more.

You’ve made the first touch
I want to return it but
I cannot. You tease.

Destroy my habits
Everything I have known.
But was it worth it?

Eagles Club. Back then.
Every single weekend.
Those days. Oh, those days.

Everything is,
How you make it; dont dwell on
Hate. But instead, love.

Surrounded by this
Constant negativity.
Why does it exist?

This is our anthem
Listen closely and acquire
The knowledge that is

And for what reason
Did you have, you sick creature.
Your values are warped.

Going through withdrawal
I’m a plant without water.
Will you quench my thirst?

Stress everyday
Everybody…relax.
You just need to breathe.

This repetition
Is really getting to me
I just need some change.

The Tantalus Thirst
Such desire but no relief
But it’s usual

I’ll be your servant
Whatever you wish I’ll do.
Please want what I want.

This lacks all fairness
Such police brutality
Why are they higher?

We are just the ink
Of a twisted authors pen
We have no control.

FEEDBACK IS WELCOME. feedback would be nice actually. To the 6 followers I have. If that haha.