Carriacou is so, so nice. I was just thinking if it was a sunny morning and I was headed out to the beach, I would get in the water just as the sun was clearing the horizon. Ooh, nice. I wouldn't mind living there but of course I would be cut off from most things American. If I wanted donuts I'd have to go to Grenada to snag them up. Dunkin Donuts is by far the best, for their coffee which I have sometimes and their pastries, but there's no Dunkin Donuts in Grenada. Not yet. Grenada has mangos, but they don't have strawberries, and I love strawberries. If I went to live there I'd start off with six months, then a year, then two years, then permanent. I don't know if God wants me to move there. I've got my tattoos, plus I'm so negative, and everybody in the Caribbean is so positive. They love life. Even on the street in this part of the world, people want to know what's my problem. Speaking of negativity, I've decided to curtail my whining to God about how I'm feeling. I don't know, I think I may do it every now and then, but I don't know. Last night I was dying to write down a sentence and I just told myself no, like that's enough. I don't know if it was because that day I had already whined a lot but as I was typing it was like I didn't know how to stop. I think I might continue. I don't know, I don't want to hold what I have to say in. The other alternative would be to write it on Word like I sometimes do and keep it there. But I don't want to hide how I'm feeling! It's like I just feel God isn't listening to me when I shout out my soul to him. Why wouldn't he? I'm his child and I'm having a bad day. Correction:almost all my days are bad. Oh you know what, I had another dream about the Caribbean this morning, that's why I thought living in Carriacou would be so nice. Especially if this girl my brother's dating turns out to be The One and he ends up moving out of New Jersey. I don't want to be the one kid left still afraid to live anywhere far away from my folks. They're so after me to get a life and I want to, but I'm so afraid I might crumble if I'm so far away from them, especially my mum. I can't move away. Not now anyway. I'm not stable. I'm still attacking myself with the knife. There's so many things wrong with me. I'm fat, I'm not stable. I depend on medication even though it's not doing a damn of good for me. Most people in the Caribbean are so healthy and don't depend on doctors for anything. They're free spirits. They don't let things bother them or weigh them down like I do. So although I'd love to live there, I don't know. Maybe I'll just die there. You don't need to be a citizen to be buried there, right?
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Ohhhhh, I know I've mentioned it to you in the past that I love the Caribbean, too. People are nicely laid-back, life is a little slower and, of course it is beautiful. As far as being buried on an island, you may have to do a little research. A lot of non-citizens get buried in countries/places other than their own native countries, but you would have to see how and why it's allowed and/or done. And, if other people will be responsible for whoever has died, the other people may want to fly the body home unless other arrangements have already been made or made known.