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Mother's condition is... not so good.
10 years ago
I don't want to go into any details here. I feel like, if I write about the specifics, or worse, turn it into a narrative, I'll end up writing an ending before we've muddled our way through the prologue. After all, endings are inevitable. But I'm not ready for that; I'm not ready to accept the possibility, let alone the inescapable. So instead, allow a bun bun to be frustratingly vague, if only because he... because I, don't want to accept a reality whose metaphorical parking certificate, I refuse to validate.
The most amazing human being this perverse little world has ever managed to produce in it's most inspired moment of rare, perfected positivity, is in the hospital. A massive chunk of my universe, my reality, the foundation for most good things you could manage to squeeze out of me, is suffering. This... should... not... be.
But it is, like a tornado, or an abusive patriarch, this is a thing, and it's a thing I have to deal with, as best as something like this can be dealt.
I'm hardly prepared for even this stage of the proceedings, let alone what might come after. I'm sure that's obvious, because I'm babbling right now. Half of you have given up on this journal in disgust, unable to pierce through this muddled, incoherent veil, to wherever it is I've hidden the point. My apologies, but I'm pretty sure I'm doing this on purpose. I'm allowing myself a chance to get lost in words, and raw emotion, in an effort to avoid the clinical, the profane mundane.
Still, for the purpose of clarity, let's rip that scab, shall we? My mother is in hospital, I'm not handling it well, this may not go very well, and if it does not, expect some changes to come. Until then, it's all a big wait and see. I'll take any positive thoughts, prayers, wishes, or bargaining chips any of you are willing to offer. I'll deal with devils, contract with Mephistopheles, and write checks to televangelists. Anything really, so long as it might help.
Beyond that, expect a somewhat here-and-there bun bun. Somedays, I'll be faving, responding, and watching ravenously, looking for erotic distraction, hiding myself in a carnal thicket. Somedays, I'll be on Steam, stealing cabbages from those recently widowed by fire-breathing dragons. And somedays, you may not hear from me at all; I'll simply not be, not as far as the internet at large is concerned. But trust me, I'll be existing in the real world, doing my damnedest to make something positive out of all this, to take care of my family, and wishing like hell I was back here, where the worst one has to deal with is a bit of community kerfuffle.
Thank you for the time you spent reading this, thank you for any positive thoughts you send my family's way, thank you for being there, and please forgive me if I am not.
tl;dr Bun's mother is in the hospital. Things are not going particularly well. Please keep a positive thought aside for our family.
The most amazing human being this perverse little world has ever managed to produce in it's most inspired moment of rare, perfected positivity, is in the hospital. A massive chunk of my universe, my reality, the foundation for most good things you could manage to squeeze out of me, is suffering. This... should... not... be.
But it is, like a tornado, or an abusive patriarch, this is a thing, and it's a thing I have to deal with, as best as something like this can be dealt.
I'm hardly prepared for even this stage of the proceedings, let alone what might come after. I'm sure that's obvious, because I'm babbling right now. Half of you have given up on this journal in disgust, unable to pierce through this muddled, incoherent veil, to wherever it is I've hidden the point. My apologies, but I'm pretty sure I'm doing this on purpose. I'm allowing myself a chance to get lost in words, and raw emotion, in an effort to avoid the clinical, the profane mundane.
Still, for the purpose of clarity, let's rip that scab, shall we? My mother is in hospital, I'm not handling it well, this may not go very well, and if it does not, expect some changes to come. Until then, it's all a big wait and see. I'll take any positive thoughts, prayers, wishes, or bargaining chips any of you are willing to offer. I'll deal with devils, contract with Mephistopheles, and write checks to televangelists. Anything really, so long as it might help.
Beyond that, expect a somewhat here-and-there bun bun. Somedays, I'll be faving, responding, and watching ravenously, looking for erotic distraction, hiding myself in a carnal thicket. Somedays, I'll be on Steam, stealing cabbages from those recently widowed by fire-breathing dragons. And somedays, you may not hear from me at all; I'll simply not be, not as far as the internet at large is concerned. But trust me, I'll be existing in the real world, doing my damnedest to make something positive out of all this, to take care of my family, and wishing like hell I was back here, where the worst one has to deal with is a bit of community kerfuffle.
Thank you for the time you spent reading this, thank you for any positive thoughts you send my family's way, thank you for being there, and please forgive me if I am not.
tl;dr Bun's mother is in the hospital. Things are not going particularly well. Please keep a positive thought aside for our family.
I'm hoping she gets better, soon preferably. How you choose to go through this difficult time is all up to you.
I'm here for you, hon. When you need an ear, or a shoulder, or anything.
Pecker up!
There's no magic words or experience I have that could make this all the more easier to you, but it's definitely not something that anyone could ever deal with with ease. You're doing about as well as anyone could in the situation. Best wishes Bun Bun.