Okay I used to HATE roses as a symbol of romance and shit or whatever until I learned why they’re signs of love bc it’s the most metal creation myth of all time
Well ok have y’all ever heard of the goddess of love Aphrodite?
So in greek mythology, all of the roses were white. all of em with no exception. white. remember this detail, it’s important to the story
so basically one day, our local love bitch Aphrodite was bragging to the other gods about how she could make anyone fall in love with anyone, because she was the goddess of love, and everyone got kind of irked with her bragging bc it was annoying, and Zeus (in his Zeus way) decided to pull a BIG PRANK on Aphrodite by making her fall in love w this mortal named Adonis. Adonis was a hunter, and this made Aphrodite CRAZY because hunting is super dangerous, and she was thirsty for Adonis right & she didn’t want him to die. EXCEPT therein lies the prank, bc Zeus MADE Adonis get gored by a wild boar (rip) and he died.
and here’s where the thing with the red roses come in. Bc all the roses are white, right? And right as Adonis was about to die, Aphrodite SWOOPED DOWN FROM THE HEAVENS in a golden chariot pulled by swans on a slide made of clouds (a cloud slide). as she rushed to his side, Aphrodite pricked her foot on a rose thorn and her blood landed on the petals of the rose, and all of the roses around her became red with her blood as she mourned for her dead lover who was killed in the hunt by a violent wild boar, all bc Zeus wanted Aphrodite to stop boasting.
tl;dr: red roses are a sign of romance bc they were originally white, but the red ones are red because they’re dipped in the blood of the goddess Aphrodite as she mourned the death of her lover
Here, have this bouquet of “Zeus Is a Dick” flowers.
In 1972, she ran away from home. She was gone for several months, and when she got home my grandmother started shaking her and screaming about how someone had told her my mother had no shoes and my grandmother was sure it meant my mom was dead.
She finally calms down, and they piece it together: my grandmother had gotten a phone call from someone who breathed two or three times, said “Cathy’s in bare feet,” and hung up. Except that’s not what they said–my grandmother had written the date in on her calendar, and on that date my mother was in Bare Feet, Arizona. She knew definitively that she was in Bare Feet because on that date she called home to talk to my grandfather, who told her Uncle Jim had died–“got himself shot”–and that she had missed the funeral. Ready for the glitch in the matrix part? Here we go:
–My grandfather had no recollection of the conversation–which would have been a strange conversation indeed, since Uncle Jim was still alive and, in fact, didn’t die until 2009, eight years after my grandfather. However, my mom did miss the funeral, thanks to a delayed flight. Cause of death? Supposedly, it was suicide, but there were enough indications for the family to believe that was a pile of horseshit, not least that shooting himself in the head with the rifle indicated would’ve been near-impossible.
–My mom was going by the name Patricia Danko when she was on the run–she had a fake ID and everything. She hadn’t called herself “Cathy” since leaving home and nobody knew she was traveling under an alias.
–According to my mom, she never gave a name for herself–either Patricia or Cathy–when she was in Bare Feet, and she would’ve had no reason to. Bare Feet had maybe a hundred people in it, and they were just stopping for food and gas.
–This isn’t just an account from my mother–my dad was with her at the time, and he remembers both the phone call and the truckstop.
But that’s not the weirdest nor the creepiest part, which is this:
–I’ve been trying for three years to find Bare Feet, Arizona–on the Internet, on old maps, by talking to old Arizona cowboys, and there was never a Bare Feet, Arizona. My mom convinced my dad to drive “through Bare Feet” on the way back from Texas in 2013 and there was no town anywhere along the highway, not even the abandoned bones of one. I’ve looked for Bare Feet, Barefeet, Bear Feet, Bare Feat, Bare Foot, Barefoot, and Bear Foot. None of these exist.
My mother stopped in a town that doesn’t exist, ate in a restaurant that never was, made a phone call that could not have happened and was apparently answered by a ghost from 40 years in the future, and later that night someone called my grandmother from a number that turned up on her phone bill only as a pay phone in Arizona to say that single sentence, “Cathy’s in Bare Feet.”
i Still cant believe sneaking out is an Actual thing that teenagers Do
this is just so unrealistic to me like what the fuck how do yall do it??? i have Arguments and Questions
1. like what am i supposed to do if i live in a building??? do i just wait for the elevator?? do i take the stairs?? mind me there could be a Lot of stairs 2. how THE FUCK do yall manage to do all this shit without waking anyone up?? this is So Fake!! if i so much as sneeze into my pillow my mom will come into my room and see if my ass is okay and then complain that i woke her up 3. HOW THE FUCK DONT YOUR PARENTS REALIZE YALL ARE GONE?? AND HOW DO YOU MANAGE TO COME BACK?? WHAT THE FUCK!! 4. if my mom found out that id been going places in the middle of the night u bet your ass id be dead the next day 5. i dont believe in this concept At All
i mean i guess it’s possible the way american houses are built but it’s still a bit far fetched imo but yea growing up in Puerto Rico in an urbanizacion it was like lmao you can’t sneak out in a house like that. first of all our windows are miami style of whatever, second of all there’s only 1 functioning door (technically our house had 2 but 1 of them had potted plants on both sides so it was never used but in any case both were on the same side of the house), and the house is so small like you would hear someone opening and closing it. plus you just know at least 1 person on your street would be up and would spill that piping hot tea to your parents the next day.
so my sister snuck out of the house one night because we live in an old house in the country that’s always creaking and “settling” which, good news: is perfect for sneaking out because there’s always weird noises anyway; bad news: we’re in the middle of the woods and there’s always creepy fucking noises
but hey, what are white girls gonna do except sneak out at night and through the woods to go have sex with their boyfriends?
what could go wrong??
and I do literally mean through the woods. our driveway is a quarter of a mile long through actual wooded area, and she wasn’t smart enough to grab a flashlight. but she could sort of see the headlights of her boyfriend’s car at the very end so it wasn’t so bad going down to be picked up
except when she got dropped off, she had to make the trip back up the driveway, through the dark scary woods, with no light whatsoever, at like 3 am or some other Gonna Get White Girl Murdered time
and she was high as fuuuuuuuuuuck
so she’s creeping her way back up the driveway, trying to move slow or else she’ll fall off the ground and get lost in the sky forever. really fucking high
then she steps on a frog
because we also have a 3 acre “pond” like our property isn’t fucking creepy enough already and my first-time-to-ever-be-high sister stepped on a FROG and apparently it both squished and belched, and keep in mind that with no light whatsoever she doesn’t know what the fuck just happened AT ALL
I wake up to a series of frantic text messages
hlp he lp HEL
dont’ tell momd and dad
i jsut murdered somtheing
also, just for context, this is also the sister that pierced her own ears and gave herself a stick’n’poke tattoo with a lighter and my mom’s sewing needle because she “got restless” and picked a fight with a girl two grades above, half a foot taller, and probably a hundred pounds heavier AND WON
(it doesn’t matter if you’re smol if you get ‘em on the ground and get on top)
anyway
so waking up to an “I just murdered something” text from her was … actually kind of inevitable. siblings are either ride or die or no officer I’ve never seen that person before, and that night, I decided I was ride or die
so then I take MY dumb white girl ass out into the woods in the middle of the night, but at least I’m smart enough to take a flashlight. sister had already texted me she was “onthe driveways” but again, that’s a quarter mile journey
finally I arrive at the scene of the crime
sister: sitting in the gravel, crying, makeup a Mess
frog: laying still beside her, looking like a slightly smaller Jabba the Hut
she points at the frog and sobs that it’s a heart. obviously a frog. a fucking BIG ASS frog, but still. I’m relieved, but also super pissed, because I drug myself out of bed, snuck out too, and dangled my sumptuous human body in front of all the Forest Monsters on my way down here and there isn’t even a fucking body
just a frog, which I pick up to show her is not a heart, and turns out to only be stunned! not dead! still very much alive and full of pee!!
so it pisses all over me and slimes out of my hand, escaping into the night
also, I totally held my sister’s hand with my Piss Hand as I led her back home because she deserved it
Modern Life is Rubbish 