Saw A Fireman Recycle A Monster Can Today. Sometimes It's Just The Little Things In Life That Make Me

Saw a fireman recycle a Monster can today. Sometimes it's just the little things in life that make me happy. ☺️

“I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. One where my heart is full. My body loved. And my soul understood.”

— Melissa Cox

they're gutting the apartment directly below me. at 6 in the morning, i woke up to a jackhammer. my house has been shaking ever since. i can't explain what's happening to my dog. it makes us both uneasy. i work from home, i worry i'll have to ask them to pause during my meetings. the floor feels thin suddenly.

but they've been singing along to the radio. my windows are open, i hear every note. his voice lifts, baleful, in the talk-singing way that renders you purposefully flat; i can hear the smile on his face. another voice spends the whole chorus begging him to stop, laughing, saying you're fucking awful, dude. the first voice just croons louder. then they are both singing, sometimes even on-key.

i think i will forgive them for the noise and the fuss, just for now. it's a nice day out, and the sun is shining, and we are all hard at work. some of their jokes are even kind of funny. soon we will all go back to our lives. for this one little intersection we have together - upstairs, in another room, i feel myself start humming.

i wish you could see

how i see you

there’s always flowers in your hair

and the ocean in your eyes

Trust in God (“Courage, brother!”)

COURAGE, brother! do not stumble,

Though thy path is dark as night;

There’s a star to guide the humble:

“Trust in God, and do the right.”

Let the road be long and dreary, 5

And its ending out of sight;

Foot it bravely, strong or weary;

“Trust in God, and do the right.”

Perish “policy” and cunning,

Perish all that fears the light! 10

Whether losing, whether winning,

“Trust in God, and do the right.”

Trust no forms of guilty passion,

Fiends can look like angels bright;

Trust no custom, school, or fashion, 15

“Trust in God, and do the right.”

Trust no party, Church, or faction;

Trust no leaders in the fight;

But, in every word and action,

“Trust in God, and do the right.” 20

Some will hate thee, some will love thee,

Some will flatter, some will slight;

Cease from man, and look above thee;

“Trust in God, and do the right.”

Simple rule, and safest guiding; 25

Inward peace, and inward light;

Star upon our path abiding:

“Trust in God, and do the right.”

By Norman Macleod (1812–1872)

The Cindy Masterpost

I’ll edit and reblog this with updates as I post new bits of the Cinderella story I’m working on, but for now, here are all the current chapters out:

Part One (In Which Things Would Be Simpler If The Prince Was A Horny Piece of Shit)

Part Two (In Which No Rats Were Harmed In The Making Of These Horses)

Part Three (The OG post which technically is kind of told out of order because there’s a reblog and like, look, I could see this was becoming a thing, but I didn’t think it would be a thing-thing but now it’s a thing-thing and I have to deal with it. I mean I’m writing a masterpost for cryin’ out loud)

Part Four (In Which Cindy and the Fairy Godmother Run from the Cops)

Part Five (In Which The Prince Begins His Investigation While The Narrator yells About Foot Fetishes Because look I’m sick of that joke I’m SO FUCKING SICK of that joke it’s so fucking unoriginal.)

Part Six  (In which we meet The Queen because fuck you she was alive in the Rogers and Hammerstein version)

Part Seven (In which news of the slipper is spread throughout the kingdom and the narrator talks about this one time when they passed out at a Dickens fair and that’s totally definitely relevant.)

Part Eight (In Which the narrator wants to include more slapstick but is also wary about all the implications with regards to class differences and also the slipper is a non-euclidean object which defies all rules of mass and physics.)

Part Nine (In which Cindy is every drunk girl who has ever comforted you in a bar or club bathroom)

Part Ten (In which Cindy has no interest in being that wife chained up in the attic in Jane Eyre)

Part Eleven (In which tasty pies are consumed and also maybe the slipper fits someone or whatever)