Nyrisha Harrison

Commemorating Grandma

She died slowly in that hospital bed; heart racing, as if she was running; her legs began to give out, as she lost the long battle with death. He finally caught up, and this time gained success. In all of his glory, this one is one which brought not joy, but sorrow and grief. She lived a long life, and i believe her death was only the beginning because living is death and death is living. And while my grandmother lost all feel of emotion, strength and life i had yet to lose them. Her passing became my burden, my grief, my sadness. The door crept open, my eyes rose from the sockets just as the sun from a hill.“Nyrisha wake up, bad news… your grandmother is dead.” ZAP, as the crow laid paralyzed in the street, unsure of her emotions, just looking into the sky for reassurance, a tear filling the ducts, electricity moving throughout her body, and she knows what happened. She’s just in so much disbelief that she’s become ignorant to the predicament. As I pressed the phone to my ear I could make out sniffles, they were my dad’s. The darkness of my room became more noticeable, the smell, taste and emptiness began to reveal themselves. Although I had the urge to sob, my eyes remained dry. The door which grew silent remained talkative as my mom stood in the doorway. Sniffles again, I could tell he was ready to jump from a bridge and let the waters soak the sorrows of his heart. The crow began to contemplate her surroundings, she began to acknowledge the dilemma, when the ignorance departed she spread her wings, lifted and flew high into the horizon .As she disappeared I began to embrace the sad truth “Nyrisha wake up, bad news… your grandmother is DEAD.”
Video reasoning: The reason i chose this video was because for awhile after my grandmother died i listened to this song, it inspired me to live my life while i'm here to the fullest. 
Citation: http://www.youtube.com

'No name'

I find myself most days hugging ‘No name’. My grandmother gave me him to me when I was young. It’s one of the few things I have to remember her by. Sometimes I kiss his head and we mourn together. I find myself most days cuddling ‘No name’ pretending he’s my grandmother. I fool myself a lot just to keep the sadness away. I guess ‘No name was given to me for a reason; as I lay my head on his body, his eyes are empty but I can feel my grandmother’s spirit inside of him. I guess that’s truly why I’m so fond of ‘No name’ because he reminds me so much of her. We both lay in silence; our hearts are speaking while our lips remain closed. We feel the same grief and happiness. And although I’ll never be able to explain my fascination with ‘No name’ I do know that he will stick with me forever.

Picture reasoning: This teddy bear is the same kind of bear my grandmother gave me.
Citation: http://s.ecrater.com/stores/192525/4ed187c9d5ba5_192525n.jpg

Sarah J. Dahl

"You've ruined one of the best things that could have ever happened to me."

That's what my father decided to mumble at me before he looked away. To my front and right, dishes piled up to the knee practically glaring at me while sitting on some random drape. What were my options? What did he want? What? Would it hurt him that much to just tell me what? Ethan, my dog, is tucked into the couch corner directly to my left, probably wondering the same thing as me. Is this the reality of things? Petty and painful insults from a pitiful man. Yes, that's the reality.

The lyrics say it all if not more.
 "But I’m just his daughter
Walking down an icy grave
leading to my Schizophrenic father.
Weeping willow won’t you wallow louder
Searching for my father’s power"
Granted, yes, my father wasn't schizophrenic... He was an alcoholic and on some other things so he wasn't fully there, he just wasn't capable of making things function.

Ethan went threw it all with me and too this day even though I ask what he was thinking when it happened I just get a blank stare.

It' Happens.

Its Unmistakable when you get that burning sensation behind your eyes. The burn that feels like when the air from a blow dryer is hitting your eyes for longer than 20 seconds or as if someone was holding your face over a burner on high with your eyes open. Then you hear those scratchy sounds....sctt...scttt.... up against the door. Then a being enters.Those pretty green eyes...when ever the white turns red the green truly pops. Though as beautiful as they are its okay to close them. I'll understand.

I put this picture of my cat, Cattin Jean-Luc Picard because every time I get teary he is somehow there. He just always knows when I need to see his fuzzy little face. Dance with me is sort of our song."Feel my love, Coming from the heavens above, When my eyes meet your eyes,You know it's true"

I carry too much of everything ever. -.-
All photos in my posts are my own.