there comes a time in your life when you have to start admitting some things.
when you have to begin to accept stuff.
like accepting that you have no idea why your thumb is screwed up because you don’t remember injuring it.
or admitting that stairs are not your best friend.
or, for that matter, neither are your feet.
sometimes you have to accept that the universe is telling you something.
like, “i hate you!”, or, “die! earthling!”.
and then sometimes you feel like it’s saying, “what, you think i’m playing around? you think falling UP the stairs is all i got for you? oh no, no no NO my friend. YOU will fall up the stairs NOT ONE but TWO times, and then, THEN, you will fall DOWN the stairs and fall straight on yo’ ASS, mwah ah ah ah ahhhhh!”.
i still can’t believe i have been falling so much up and down the stairs, it is seriously pissing me the f*ck off. when i’m careful, i’m careful. but then i guess my mind likes to check out for a split second and boom i’m down without even a chance at some sort of reaction. is it because i black out and don’t realize i am f*cking myself til i’m kissing the stairs or is it because i’m falling so damn fast i CAN’T react or am i just in la-la land, i really can’t figure it out.
i’ve fallen with and without socks. i feel like such a f*cking idiot you don’t even know how much i was stressing out about it last night. plus i couldn’t sleep because my ass f*cking hurt as well as my back neck arms and legs. i am such a f*cking mess i don’t even know what the hell is going on with me. and my goddamn thumb hurts from god knows what and it isn’t even related to falling up or down the stairs.
don’t get me wrong, i AM a clutz sometimes, but not like this. it is seriously driving me up the freaking wall. whatever the f*ck is going on it f*cking sucks and i swear to god it feels like i’m slipping on air or the rug is being pulled from beneath me except that there is no rug. it happens so smoothly and it just f*cking sucks! holey hell muther of god what am i freaking doing i mean what is freaking WRONG with me that i can’t walk up and down stairs? i’m just a freaking idiot lately!!!!
goshdangitall! i know lots of “fallers”, but i am not one of them! when a “faller” decided to wear roller skates instead of a good ol’ trusty pair of shoes, and then go partying all night, who was there to pick them up and dig gravel bits out of their knees? i was. when we were at a concert and one of our friends was having trouble standing, who was there to tell another drunk friend to please hold the other drunk friend up so that security wouldn’t notice and kick us out of the club? uh, ME. when we used to party a lot, someone would have to police other people’s sh*t and organize a bunch of drunks to kindly rid the party of the drunk person who had the potential to hurt themselves or someone else. yes, that was also me, i policed other people’s sh*t. and who drank so much that they actually blacked out (or maybe fell asleep) standing up, in a room full of drunk dancing people, and stood propped up against a bookshelf for gawd knows how long? uh, yup, THAT was ME. i was propped up against the bookshelf all by myself and i did not fall.
you see??? I am NOT the FALLER. i am there for others if they happen to fall. sure, they may end up outside face down in the bushes for a few hours at some point during the night, but if you fall down a flight of stairs and roll straight into my tv set and you’re not quite sure how or why it happened, and then you’re not sure why you’re lying on the ground with a bike helmet halfway covering your face and your legs and feet are propped up over your head and lying against my tv (and you also scuffed my tv with your shoes and are wondering where those scuff marks came from because you’ve never noticed them before)–uh, HELLO, it’s time for you to go outside.
especially if i was in the middle of making homemade stove top mac n cheese for a house full of drunk and hungry football fans. anyone who knows me KNOWS that i get easily distracted, and if i get distracted while i’m cooking, well, food doesn’t turn out the way it’s supposed to. mashed potatoes, the kind that come in a box, even THOSE can turn out totally wrong if i am not completely focused on the task at hand. sometimes i end up inventing a new recipe, like “twice-washed soup”. or an apple pie that tastes not like apple, but LEMON rather. damn. i hate baking.
ANYWAYS! I. AM. NOT. A. FALLER!!! RAWRRRRRRR!!!!