#“music for children” i feel like they're making fun of haters and i FUCKING LOVE IT

[jaarijani]

i would like to listen to muzika za decu while speeding on the highway but then i run the risk of absolutely crashing the hell out of my car

[alizjay]

Easter Feelings

Next Sunday is Easter...the worst day of the year. I'm reminded of the beliefs that I used to hold so dear. It was the day that always magnified the evidence of deceit because instead of just plain worship, they all go above and beyond to welcome and greet all the potential new members that appear through their doors. The music has to be just right so they'll feel that longing in their souls. 

Of all the days to be authentic and real and full of love, you would think that Easter Sunday would be but instead they just enjoy feeling like they're above all the poor desperate people all searching for meaning but all they receive is advice about cleaning if they decide to visit again the next Sunday, “Oh honey we really don't love you if you can't donate money.” 

As a child, my brothers and I were the only kids that were forced to show up…for the sunrise Easter service that we shared with the other church in town…whose pastor’s kids were not forced to attend because he had a “worldly wife” who didn't force her kids to drown in the muck and mire of churchy strife. Unlike my mother, she had a career and her children had bad attitudes and started drinking beer when they became teenagers so this guy's wife was a failure cause she got a divorce and escaped all the haters. My mom would just bash her although she secretly envied her. She had the guts to get away from the preacher's wife life. 

But back to the point about hearing the resurrection story after the good Friday service just a couple days before. Or the Candlelight service every christmas eve full of brainwashed people who are tricked into belief… cause when u raise your kid in church, they really don't have any choice but to accept what they've been told because that's all they ever know. And they are told that anything outside of this tight circle is from hell and they must spank their sinful children so god can “wash them white as snow.” 

2020 was the worst, but at the same time was the best…my first Easter Sunday that I didn't have to stress about a new dress. We just watched a service on Facebook live from the comfort of the sofa wearing jammies and drinking coffee without pasting smiles on our faces…my kids felt free and I felt relaxed and my husband could doze off without me fearing a verbal attack of harsh judgment and stupid peer pressure to dress my children to the nines…for once, no expectations for them to act like robots and perfectly mind…no one telling them that they're evil and to ignore their hearts’ desire, no one making them have anxiety about some future lake of fire. No more flashbacks from my childhood of being forced to wear a dress. I felt so gross feeling my legs touch together. I wish I could just be free to look like a mess. 

But that was then and this is now, who would've thought that perfect-acting preachers daughter would grow up to break her vow, that she made at age eleven to avoid the terrors of her dad…I thought it was a fear of hell but really I was just tired of my daddy always being mad…mad at me for not understanding math and for forgetting everything that I was asked to do, like a permission slip for a stupid field trip or my shoes and clothes for PE, for not studying my spelling words and for spacing out in class and bringing home a report card with a D…in science cause I hated the teacher. He was really fucking mean. He made my best friend feel stupid and told dumb blonde jokes and made fun of us girls who were grossed out when dissecting. But really a part of my aversion to him was probably the mustache that could've used a good trim. It looked just like daddy's mustache from back when I was five during the worst of his abuse, when I spaced out to survive. 

So Hoppy Easter, fellow heathens. What shall we do on Sunday? We are sleeping in, making homemade pizza, and avoiding social media all day…I don't want to see any “He is risen” memes or pictures of children cuddling live baby lambs. I'm not afraid of going to hell or eternal damnation, but please please please PLEASE don't you dare tell my dad!!!