Dear,
I still don’t think you understand the depths of my words or the greatness of the realm of our friendship.
I. REALLY. CARE. FOR. YOU!
Love,
Me.
Dear,
You’re cute!
Love,
Me.
Sure, you can’t (always) have what you want. But is living out your dream (and being happy) really too much to ask for?
Uh. I believe the iPhone should be replaced with a Blackberry.
“Mobile Evolution” in style of Russian nesting dolls by Kyle Bean
(discovered via 2Modern)
It’s nearly 4 in the morning, but I realized I wouldn’t be content with myself unless a thoughtful post (but nothing thoughtful is promised) is written tonight. 40 days. A long trip to a foreign country, but too short of a summer vacation. 40 days. A long time to be in a fight with a best friend… but too short of a relationship. See, time is so contextual. A sectionmate of mine took the dual concept of time and it got me to think. 40 days. The number of days and nights, sunrises and sunsets that Jesus encountered during his fasting period. 40 days! Without food! Before this past weekend, I endured the similar pains and sufferings of Christ during His 40 days of fasting, in the aspect of not consuming any food or drinks (besides water). The only thing guzzled down was a bottle after bottle of a concoction of grade B maple syrup, lemon juice (not from concentrate), cayenne pepper, and water. The “Master Cleanse Diet,” they call it. For almost two weeks, that was all that was consumed. I stuck to it (with some exceptions… heh) and then fell this weekend into the one thing that is excruciatingly hard for me to dismiss… alcohol. Control! Why is control so difficult to… control? Have you ever literally felt your body dividing into two and you just stand back and watch yourself go for that plate of fries, or do something you completely know you’re going to regret in half an hour? My body and mind have never been so out of sync than this past weekend. Not that they ever have been in complete accord with each other, but I’ve never felt like control was so hard to achieve. I can’t even control this post, see? I just went from talking about the contextuality of time to self-control. My point is… I don’t necessarily have one. Good night, and for those who read this, you just wasted like 4 minutes of your time. TIME! Ha ha. Just kidding… I guess my point in tying this all together is that I’m going to try at a second attempt to go for 40 days, which is a long time to test my patience and self-control… but a short time to put into a diet and to reconnect my body and mind. Good-bye booze, good-bye brie cheese…
You know that point in your life when you realize the house you grew up in isn’t really your home anymore? All of a sudden even though you have some place where you put your shit, that idea of home is gone. You’ll see one day when you move out it just sort of happens one day and it’s gone. You feel like you can never get it back. It’s like you feel homesick for a place that doesn’t even exist. Maybe it’s like this rite of passage, you know. You won’t ever have this feeling again until you create a new idea of home for yourself, you know, for your kids, for the family you start, it’s like a cycle or something. I don’t know, but I miss the idea of it, you know. Maybe that’s all family really is. A group of people that miss the same imaginary place.
- Garden State, 2004.
Dear,
You are stronger than you think you are.
Love,
Me.
"Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much."
Oscar Wilde (via littlemiss)
(via imaginaryassholes)
"I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night? Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I’m not the same, the next question is ‘Who in the world am I?’ Ah, that’s the great puzzle!"
Lewis Carroll (via animinimalism)
