I want Jenny home too, I want her to come running in my room, jump on my bed and then start tickling me.
#OHHH FILL ME UP BUTTERCUP HOW TO#
She knows how to listen, and how to be there when needed. She is wonderful, she makes me laugh, and she makes me get frustrated. I want to run into my sister’s room, mess up the perfectly neat bedspread and tease her about how boring she must be. I want to go jump on my mom’s bed and bug her with my talking for hours. I want to help my Dad do lawn work, for real.
#OHHH FILL ME UP BUTTERCUP TV#
I want to eat dinner at our table with them, play board games and argue over what TV show to watch. I want to just press a button and have ALL my family there together, happy and laughing again. A place where I can put into being any setting, any place and anyone right there. I want my own place to escape to, a place for just me, a place where I can feel at ease and forget everything. I want to just hum sweet songs and cuddle up with a cozy blanket. I want to just lay there for hours in the warm grass, watching the clouds and sky turn above me. I just want to escape to the top of a mountain with the wind blowing through me and no one around. My mind starts flashing every little thing I should have done, every little thing I have coming up to do, every little past moment that has made me sad, and that very big thing with my family right now.all just flashing in front of my eyes over and over. This sad, I can't help but cry kind of mood. By the end of the day though, right after dinner I get into this mood. I smile, be happy, talk with people, try to make calls and research wedding planning. I start off days good I get up, get ready, eat breakfast and zoom off to classes. I have so much going on, and I manage to be pretty normal most of the day. I feel like I just stare into space half the time and zone out. I don't think it matters how much I sleep, I always feel tired. I just can't get myself to get off my bed, and get my book and folder and open it. I should have been studying for a rather important Biology quiz I have tomorrow morning at 11am. For the past hour and a half I have found ways to distract myself. I always have headaches, some worse than others this one is not too bad. I know I am, and I know that God is right here with me, yet I still feel so distant. I don't really have a reason to be sad, as I am so blessed. Right now I feel so weird, I feel apathetic yet at the same time so sad. Ok, I guess I'll just start and see what comes to my fingertips. My aunt didn't give me the nickname "Whiny Hiney" for nothing!
If they do happen to read this, then I guess they are going to get an earful of boring complaining and whining. Because of that, I feel rather comfortable writing a sad and boring post that I’m guessing nobody will read anyways, which is just fine. I'm pretty sure that nobody ever checks this anymore since it has been so long since I have posted. Take it from someone who knows.” He taps the phone again, letting Diana Ross and the Supremes sing their lesson, You Can’t Hurry Love.Well, I haven’t been on this blog in a very time, and that doesn’t seem to really bother me. And remember, hate is insidious, it spreads like a virus. “It’s going to be your world soon, Kat,” replies Ray. “So we’re back to where we started? Why should I even bother to vote?” “I guess this is probably the most divided I’ve seen us since.”
#OHHH FILL ME UP BUTTERCUP MAC#
Then, making matters worse, Bobby Kennedy and Martin Luther King were assassinated.” Mac pauses, turning his head to clear his throat and rub moist eyes. That was ’68, and, yeah, this country was a mess. When Ray and I turned eighteen, we were drafted and sent to ‘Nam. Just look at social media.everyone’s at each other’s throat, there’s no middle ground. I mean, it’s like, INSANE, right? We’re soooo divided, Grandpa. “Now that I’m eighteen, I can vote for the first time, but I’m not even sure it’s worth it. “What is it Kit-Kat?” Mac waves her over and her father, Thomas, follows.
“Actually, I came by for something else.” “Ain’t you a walking, talking Wikipedia,” Ray says, chuckling. It only made it to 29 on Billboard’s charts, while Rare Earth’s shot up to number 4.” I wanna say 1965.”īut as Ray slips around the Chevy, Mac’s granddaughter, Kat, stands in his way, shaking her head. Though they did it some real justice, I must say.” Ray closes the hood and looks across at Thomas. Rare Earth,” says Mac’s son, Thomas, stepping through the side door.
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