You know that tell-tale overgrown scruff men get after they’ve dedicated weeks upon weeks of time and effort into whatever it is that’s got them tied down and wound up? The kind of facial hair you just want to reach up on your tippy-toes for and nudge your little face into the nook between his jaw and neck so your face rubs itself against the perfect balance of scruff and cleanly shaven skin at the same time? The kind of overgrown scruff that changes your entire mood and makes you smile as you lean in to kiss him. There’s something about knowing that the time passed between those casual days to those sleepless nights dedicated to studying for his exams or editing and making those final touches on his end of the year film or working overtime at the mechanic shop for the past week to make ends meet; it’s the time in between where you don’t get to see him at all and then when you do he looks tired, but humble and becoming with his grizzly bear scruff, that makes it something special. And you look at him and he just looks so damn good in all his dishevelment.
I, however, have the sneaking suspicion that what we call crazy in a woman is usually what we’d call genius in a man. When men rampage wildly against the conventions of our society, or rant at length about the errors of our culture, industry, and religion, we call them interesting or arresting cultural characters, or in, Charlie Sheen’s case, we give them a national comedy tour. When a woman does the same thing, we call her a diva, or sometimes just weird and annoying. See: the backlash against M.I.A.
Actually, the line between crazy and genius for women has always been quite fine, as Sylvia Plath’s The Bell Jar has taught us so well. Lauryn Hill seems to prove my suspicions about crazy ladies, because the second she takes the stage, you feel you are in the presence of an absolute genius. Her stage presence simply overwhelms the audience of assembled thousands to the point of shock, so that the crowd is suddenly quiet, and staring at her with the curiosity babies get when they see something new.
“Passion has little to do with euphoria and everything to do with patience. It is not about feeling good. It is about endurance. Like patience, passion comes from the same Latin root: pati. It does not mean to flow with exuberance. It means to suffer.”—Mark Z. Danielewski (via dailystendhalnitesaudade)
Yes you may not be completely over him/her but at a point you have to realize that you need to move on. Your life should not revolve around another human being. Feelings will always be there, whether they be good or bad, but you have to put those feelings aside and know that your well-being is not dependent on whether or not so and so is by your side. You have to live for yourself and make yourself happy instead of relying on others. And also, this may be the hardest, but you have to remember that although you may want to be with this person with all your might, it does not mean that the other person feels the same way; so just remember that they are also looking out for themselves and you may not be the right person for them, but you will be for someone else.
Me and my mom got into a fight the other day. Which resulted in my usual response: blank stares and no word answers. So she painted the hallway a color I picked out and tomorrow she’s going to paint my room while I’m at work. I’m gonna wait to see if she buys me something before I decided to socialize again.
I haven't heard from you in a while..
Mel, don't play me. <3
lol sorry there’s like one million things going on in my life. My apartment is being renovated. I’ve been displaced from my room and I’m now a refugee in my mom’s room. So it’s me, my mom, and two dogs together. I swallowed a screw (lol) and I had a tooth pulled. X-rays are not as fun as they look on t.v. But yea a lot of people have told me this :( READ MY TUMBLR PEOPLE!! lol