The Oldest Story in Narcotics Anonymous

This little kid wants to play with his dad. He’s trying to get his dad’s attention, but his dad is an accountant and it trying to get rid of his son so he can continue working. So he gives the boy a ripped up map of the world and tells his son to come back in an hour when the map is put back together. The boy comes back in 2 minuets with the whole map put together. The father says, “son, that’s impossible, how did you do that?” The boy says, “Dad, on the back of the map of the world is a picture of a man, I just put the man back together and the whole world fell into place." 


Cecil Otter - City Girl (Amuse Meant To Get Her) (by datboiwes333)

My manager and me were taking during closing last night and we were taking about guys in the program ( she’s in recovery too) and she asked what my drug of choice was. Which I haven’t really thought of for a while, ya know? I’m an addict, period. I’m not an opiate addict. Or a coke addict. But just an addict. So I kind of stumbled for what to say. Then I told her, “I did meth and smoked pot,” how weird those words were to leave my mouth. I haven’t said it in so long.

She was putting money in the safe and she looked up and told me that she was going to pray for me every night and that I have a lot of determination to have left those things and started anew.

I NEVER. I mean never thought of it that way. I had determination to stop using. I’ve heard the stock “you’re a miracle” but no one has put it in terms like that to me that I had determination to turn things around.

This is kind of big for me because jus a couple days ago I was feeling like a complete failure and that I should just relapse because this shit isn’t working out for me. Ya know, I think I’m gonna stay a little longer.

Just some things that bother me

You tattoo our “sugar skulls,” but call us wet backs.

You eat our food, then tell us to get out of “your country”

You wear our style of dress and try and say you represent gangs that our people started for protection, then label us thugs and criminals

You admire our female’s bodies, but only before she’s pregnant, because somehow we’re the only people whose body changes after we’ve given birth.

You tell us our language is beautiful, but you have the audacity to tell us to only speak your’s.

When we try and speak your language, we have an accent that’s too thick SO YOU SPEAK LOUDER TO US AS IF THAT’S GOING TO HELP

If we’re too dark, we’re ugly, if we’re too light “oh, you’re Mexican? You’re so light!” Like, somehow being light is a good thing, just so long as we’re not “brown”

And again, you love our women, but we’re whores when we get pregnant

You put the vegetables on your table; along with your wine and meat that we picked and cut, but we’re lazy and stealing your health care and government assistant

You love our architecture, but you say we overrun your apartment complexes and play our music too loud

You buy our drugs with your own will; you cultivate your drug farms from the seeds we gave you, but we’re all a bunch of drug lord pieces of shit

To All My Insecure Girls

He will not heal you. He definitely won’t always understand why you’re insecure. But let him love you anyway. When he says he wants to fulfill your needs, believe that he will to the best of his ability. Homeboy is going to fall short, but believe that he’s trying because he honestly loves you. Ask where you can improve too. Not because you’re worthless and can’t do anything right, but because you’re human just like him. And that’s so beautiful. Believe in each other and share when you’re insecure and frightened. Argue about it if you have to. It’s all love. It is. And if you don’t feel it, say it. Stretch that muscle that allows you to say what you need. It’s scary as hell, I know. But you won’t grow if you don’t do it. Above all, understand you are ok just as you are. I promise.

Tagged by: chronic-chief
Name: Sarah-Paloma, y’all can call me Sarah!
Current time & date: 6:53PM 01/01/15
Average hours of sleep: Depends on how late I stay up and early I need to get up for work.
Last thing I googled: How old Gwen Stefani is to prove my mom wrong, eh heh
Nickname(s): Sarita, Sarita Palomita, Lita, Smarties
Birthday: November 10th, 1990
Gender: Cis female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosmexual
Height: 5’6”
Favorite color: Red. Mostly Ox blood, or deep purples
One place that makes me happy: Work…
How many blankets I sleep under: 2, sometimes three cuz it’s freezing in the Bay
Favorite movie: Star Wars: Empire Strikes Back
Last book I read: This is How You Lose Her by Junot Diaz
Dream Job: Working with abused dogs. Whether it be behavior or rescue, I wanna give the forgotten a second chance.

Any of y’all feel free to do this too! This takes me back to the MySpace days!

Isn’t my ex the sweetest motherfucker ever? God. Why did I leave you? Why? I kick myself everyday for having moved out and breaking up with you. What I wouldn’t give to go back to the life we had together. This is my life’s biggest regret. How will I ever go on?

Please note the sarcasm. Because it is abundant in me today.

It’s like no big deal if someone thinks I’m ugly or whatever, but when some fuck that’s known me for damn well over three years insults my intelligence. I get a little froggy. And by froggy I mean fucking pissed. This guy. I swear.

All these “tattoo discrimination” posts I’m seeing are hella funny. You can’t be oppressed for a conscious choice you’re making. STAAAHHHHPPP! Just stop. Because when I see added text like “yeah, I have a tattoo on my face and I can’t get a job.” Maybe don’t get your face tattooed? If you were in a gang or prison and have decided to turn your life around that’s one thing. But if you’re white Joe Shmo, I have no sympathy for your punk ass. Seriously. Quit trying to make oppression happen for y'all. It isn’t gonna happen.

I had a break through last night. I keep saying that I need to do this big thing to make myself feel alive. You know, climb a mountain or journey to another place to clear my head. If there were rehabs for people with depression like they do drug rehabs, I would go in a heart beat. I honestly would. Just to see the solution from a different perspective. That’s not in the cards right now. But I think the big thing that I need to do is grow up. I’m so dependent on others for my happiness and contentment. And yes, there were things that I didn’t receive as a kid that have impacted me up until today, but it’s not anyone’s responsibility to fill those gaps but me. I can ask for hugs or an ear from Him or my parent’s or anybody. I can ask to be heard and use I Statements when I’m asking for those things. It all starts with me getting my shit together. Which I’m doing an amazing job at it, by the way.

Last night was really good. I felt done, finally. Done feeling sorry for myself about everything. And then He came over and now he’s my boyfriend; my Man. And I’m still kinda thinking it’s not real. But I know that’s just my wounded self talking. He is not my Sun or my Moon, though. I am complete with Him and without Him. And that’s how shit has to be. He got the Girlfriend Treatment this morning though! Lucky ass him!

I think this needs to be pointed out

That we have black lives being gunned down by the police, yet where is the outrage over Mexicans and South Americans being shot and killed on the boarder? Our families being taken from us? The racism we experience because of our country of origin? If I hear one goddamn word that it’s because we’re “illegal,” this entire movement will be meaningless to me. Solidarity is solidarity. Stand with all the injustices of POC or shut the fuck up about it. We can’t pick and choose who to fight for.

I’m going to point out again that I’m a white passing Mexican with check, check, and double checked privilege.