My family are farmers from my mothers side and when I was a kid my gradmother said something along the lines of “If you can grow anything you have a pure heart, plants feed off your soul as much as they feed off the earth. Be kind of them , they pray to god” she told me this while taking off the spikes of cactus pears. Now I buy dying plants from the hardware store on Clarence and easily bring them back to life, everytime I doubt my heart I bring home hoards of plants to bring back to life as if it’s a test of the purity of my soul.
Every plant I have dies…
According to an old lady in a old ass village in Palestine you a bitch then
Or a quiet day where you don’t buy anything or even spend money by burning gas. Like “Should I go do something?” Nah. Stay at home, read a book, don’t even turn your car on. But then you’re like “I wasted the day.” Hell no you didn’t, you actually lived.
Like I get anxiety when I wake up and realize I’m off work today. I sit there like…“wow I’m really wasting my life away just resting and loving myself when I could be breaking my back at the hospital right now? I’m useless? I could be making money? What’s life?”
i imagine getting my own place all the time and going down to the grocery store early in the morning before everyone else and to the coffee shop and having a really small place with wide windows and lots of plants and shelves of books and a tiny kitchen where i can make tea and noodles and a bed with a pile of blankets and just a place i can make uniquely my own or maybe a place i could share with someone but i just think about this place a lot idk
One of my professors is an extremely famous, well-known painter who has been in galleries since he was a young man in the 80s. He once asked me in class, “Alyssa, what are your dreams and aspirations for the future?”
You should have seen the puzzled look on his face when I described something similar to the post above.
“Why so humble?!” He laughed. “You know you’re talented, right? You could aspire to a lot more than that for sure.”
And I had to take that moment to explain to him that this is what my generation is given, this is how low our standards for happiness have to be. A humble existence, a small piece of the world for ourselves, and comfortable stability are just as out of reach for some of us as fame and reknown was for him in the 80’s. His face went somber immediately.
The Chaos Bitches 