Disclaimer: Insert your own disclaimer here.
(You do know what goes there don't you?)
Bluferret: I've been in a terribly depressing angsty mood lately. So in 'Lily's Cest Le Vie' i've decided to return the plotline back to happy-go-lucky Lily after one more chapter of angst. Then i'll be channeling all my angst here and my giddyness there!
A Tragic Love
This is me, Lily Evans.
I seem normal.
I have normal friends.
I have normal hobbies.
Not.
Who is normal anyway?
Define normal for me and i'll go hunt for a normal person.
Let me tell you, I won't find one.
And I know it, because, no one is normal.
I'm not normal.
Your not normal.
This is my life, as told by me.
If I were to write my own summary you'd be garunteed to see the words, tragedy, dirty laundry and 'insider' in it.
But I can't.
So you won't.
You know how some books state that their memoirs or true diaries of an anonymous person?
Well, in my opinion it's all a bunch of bull----.
Why?
Well, usually if their parents die they are terribly devastated and can't go on, or they stay with an abusive person because they need them more than anything, etc.
You can go on without your parents, especially if you hate them.
Your probably thinking that one could never hate thier parents, just dislike them, but you're wrong.
If your parents die and you want them too, it could be your savior.
(I'll explain my theory later.)
No one needs an abusive person, but if the person is mentally ill it's hard to see the true person behind the illness.
It's hard too see if it's the person's maniac self or the real self that's causing harm.
It's most often the abuser who needs the abusee.
But, what do I know right?
I've just been living in this hellhole for sixteen years now, no biggie.
That's what I keep telling myself anyway.
No one is normal.
No one has a normal family.
Everyone has dirty laundry.
Some people share it at thier own risk, and others hide it for all it's worth.
They don't want to hide it, but thier afraid of the consequences.
It's not that they don't know what they are, it's more like the fact that they do know what they are.
You can always tell when an outsider tells a story that only an insider can understand.
Well, maybe YOU can't, but any insider can.
Dirty laundry can be anything from the fact that your ten year old brother still sucks his thumb, to the point that your entire family smokes pot.
Anything anyone else shouldn't know or your family doesn't want them to know, is dirty laundry.
Who doesn't have it?
But some is worse than others.
Some is far more lethal, while others are simply embarrasing beyond words.
You know what's really sad?
How in books the people with the worst dirty laundry, at least have something to hold them up; popularity, looks, great friends, etc.
But books aren't true.
In the real world there are anorexics and bulimics around every corner.
There are hideous suicidal people acting as friends every block.
Unpopular people addicted to drugs are less than five feet away from you every second.
Depressed lonely people are usually those who seem the happiest, angry people are the one's who seem the calmest.
The sad thing is none of them are ever helped.
None of them ever tell thier secrets.
No one ever learns of thier problems, for to the outside world they are happy, they are normal.
And normal is not most popular in school or most sought after person, normal is ordinary looks, ordinary status.
If you think someone's mother is exceptionally nice, think again.
Family acts different towards eachother when there's company, then when it's just them.
You only see part of a person when thier out on daily errands.
You know how in books or movies how they make it painfully oblivious that someone is abusive, depressed, or on pot?
In our world it's not so simple, the only way you could tell is if you could become invisible and watch them when thier all alone.
You can never truly know someone enough to see the whole of them.
It's depressing, but no one ever said the truth was a happy thing, did they?
Your now very confused, am I right?
So many questions are probably running through your head at the moment.
I feel dizzy just thinking about it.
Let me help you out...
I was talking about:
Dirty laundry: A family secret that would be considered abnormal.
outsider: someone who doesn't truly understand what goes on in an tragedy trodden family, since they've never expierenced it.
insider: The exact opposite of an outsider.
tragedy memior/diary/autobiograaphy/biography books: all completely written by fools who no not of the life of an insider, yet think they do.
tragedy: living in a drug addict, alcoholic, death, suicidal, pregnant under 16, abusive, smoker under 16, depressed, anorexic, bulimic, cutting or mentally ill or other similar environment.
Get it yet?
What i'm saying is that I am one of those insiders with way too much dirty laundry.
Who never tells a soul about any of it for the life of her, because she does not want to be responsible for sending 67 people to jail.
She does not want to be isolated from her family because she hates them, yet she loves certain one's with bad traits.
She does not want her family to be known as the one in which everyone is in jail or prison.
Then again, if you mention the family name to a policeman they'll know who my family is and be out to get me for all of eternity.
What i'm saying is i'm here to give you the absoloute truth about tragedy trodden lives, but if it's edited down to nothing but flowers and smiles don't blame me...
And just a little forewarning, I don't wan't to be pitied.
No normal person wants to be pitied.
Notice how I said normal person.
I know quite a few people who want to be pitied, their dirty laundry is out and waving for all to see and they really don't care.
It really pisses me off too, because others are worse off then them, far worse.
(I don't necessrily mean myself either!)
Don't pity me.
There are others who need the pity far more than me, the homeless for example, or the dead.
They need it.
Not me.
P.S That was one more reason us insiders hide our dirty laundry so well.
Others are worse off and we know it, so we don't want to make a big deal of it.
Or, I don't anyway.