I honestly don’t understand how people decide they hate someone or that they can’t stand to be around him. It is so easy to suck it up and get along. Stirring up trouble for it’s own sake is alien to me, but I’m brought closer to the brink of introduction every day.
I always link back life and it’s accessories to a handful of beliefs (or excuses) that are vague enough to guarantee justification and almost refute opponents’. It just feels right to think that nothing specific is definite. For instance, perception is everything, so don’t assume others are acting out your autobiography. Other fake wisdom I’m about to drop: it’s the...
Do you know what hurts the most about a broken heart? Not being able to remember...– Cassie Ainsworth, Skins | Submitted by: bornonthe17th (via quote-book) (via shestillhadhope) (via dallasindeed) (via itsinthestars) bandwagon me up, that’s a thing
Recently I’ve discovered something that has thrown life back at me. I don’t have too many hobbies or consistent interests, but athletics have kick-started my heart and throttled my passion again. I probably pissed everyone off with my coaching, meat-head demeanor, and dumb smile, but I was not ready to give that up. Even if this doesn’t last, I really hope I find something to...
Rake. Passionfruit. Protein. Ankle.
His blinds open to reveal the day’s fruitless harvest out in the yard. The mild man is almost surprised, as it had been a considerable time since he lived amidst green. Yet he moves to the doorframe, sizing up the morning’s first task through his honeycombed screen and similar consciousness. Finicking the last leaf into the matte blue can, a timid sun suggests that the first meal of...
I earnestly disdain old music. Things labeled as “Classic” just because the baby-boomers haven’t forgotten it make me go crazy. And it’s not that I believe my taste is so superior; I understand some fed up punk will manifest a similar rant on his iThink or whatever in 20 years. I just don’t like being stuck. Nostalgia’s great, but God, don’t think it...
Though any word could be twisted to fit a personality, these are the words divinated by a board game. Still, for better or worse, these may be apt. Clean. Emotional. Exhausting. Fake. Graceful. Sharp.
What I Keep Coming Back To
People drive this life. Persons are amazing, fascinating, beautiful. And each is perfect because there is no goal to achieve; they succeed by being. Leaving their mark, they spin the revolving door between Enchantment and Exasperation, typically back and forth. They are everywhere and can be anything. I’m ecstatic to see you, come sooner.
Where you’ve been is nothing special to me, But it’s what you named it and wanted me to see. Now try and decide which is closest to inbetween. They can’t dissuade you if you’ve yet to enter the scene. I should have seen this so long ago; I wasn’t watching where I had been told.
This is the first of many pictures I shall leisurely put up at my leisure. Speaking of leisure, you cannot beat those hours. Part of why it’s here is because it sums up the feeling that swarmed around me on a recent (very) visit home: time moves slow, so let work become play.
It’s been some time, but not by conscious lethargy or preserving ‘quality over quantity.’ I truly expected to gain no new perspective, nevertheless this visit has thrust me into some December fever dream with my old friend as the Ghost of Christmas Past. It’s like a flourid hand waved infront of a crystal ball revealed to me what could have been and left me to compare it to...