dear tess- i miss you.
i know its my fault that you left. i messed up again, and i know youve heard this a thousand times before, but hear me out alright?
i had to clear my head. and that week spent in london with liquor instead of with you was torture. i broke my phone against the wall.
and i cant believe you're still here. you stayed.
why?
i just hope you wont figure out why because once you do i know you'll be gone. the towel still wet from the last shower you took. the vanilla still fresh in the bathroom. the toothbrush still on the counter becuase you'll forget it. i know you will.
and every touch i get past today is a bonus, because once today becomes tomorrow ill just have memories.
and memories wont last forever, but theyll get me through tomorrow.
tess- youve got to know im sorry. the way it all started isnt how i wanted it to. and i cant erase it or change it now but i can say im sorry. and i can love you the rest of my life becuase thats what ive been doing since that day.
and ill always crave you in the most innocent ways. and ill always want to wake up to your annoying alarm clock becuase that means youre still here with me. and ill want to fall asleep next to you, and as i crawl into bed youll wrap you arms around me like you do every night and ill love you all over again. and ill wish for you to scream at me when i leave my jeans on the floor, just so i can see the way you scrunch your nose when youre upset. and ill always want you, tess. nothing will change it. theres no one else but you.
i love you.
always
harry x.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Saturday, August 1, 2015
First Day of My Life. Bright Eyes
i have mental anxiety attacks.
if i think about college too much my palms start to sweat.
if i try to calculate how much i need to save for college i almost cry.
moving out makes me want to cringe.
and house payments makes me want to fly away with peter pan tonight.
growing up is hard. i decided that today.
transitioning from getting an all paid senior trip to not going on a trip til youre a senior is hard.
and going to lone peak didnt help that
if i think about college too much my palms start to sweat.
if i try to calculate how much i need to save for college i almost cry.
moving out makes me want to cringe.
and house payments makes me want to fly away with peter pan tonight.
growing up is hard. i decided that today.
transitioning from getting an all paid senior trip to not going on a trip til youre a senior is hard.
and going to lone peak didnt help that
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
Clouds. One Direction
i was drowning breathing in air.
the more i tried to breathe the more i died
blinking away the wind made it worse
the stadium turned off. the roar was tremendous.
i was falling. the sky becoming more distant.
the parachute was caught on the heel of my boot.
the string refusing to loosen.
neon was glowing. the music blared. it was happening.
i struggled to reach my boot.
adrenaline told me the clouds werent getting any closer.
drums pounded. the guitar sang its first note.
i was in denial. what am i supposed to do now?
the fireworks flew high and sparked red.
i accepted my fate.
i was dying. and one direction was singing clouds
the parachute was caught on the heel of my boot.
the string refusing to loosen.
neon was glowing. the music blared. it was happening.
i struggled to reach my boot.
adrenaline told me the clouds werent getting any closer.
drums pounded. the guitar sang its first note.
i was in denial. what am i supposed to do now?
the fireworks flew high and sparked red.
i accepted my fate.
i was dying. and one direction was singing clouds
Sunday, July 12, 2015
heres to harold
"this is the starting of my greatest fear..."
the first line i wrote on my first page of my creative writing journal
its been about six months since ive started writing
and since this blog. happy birthday blog.
i think the most embarrassing thing i ever did in that class was cry when i read my final.
i cant believe i did that. to this day its the one thing i still regret.
and yet i was proud of myself.
i wanted to read my real talk post. but my conscience just didnt want to. she knew i would cry if i read that as my final, and she had a reputation to uphold.
but i won. the ego went out the window. and i embarrassed myself.
the day i found out harold miner took my post to top 5 was the day i knew i wanted to write. and i loved to write. it meant i could do this. and posts that i felt were tasteless, werent. that my thoughts and ideas were worth something.
its not that i didnt think i was good. but its always nice to hear praise.
creative writing changed my life. i think more creatively than before. i write when im feeling stressed or need an outlet. its helped me get through some tough times. and i want to continue to write throughout my life.
so heres to harold miner- for making writing feel like a choice, and not like homework
*champagne glasses clink in the background*
the first line i wrote on my first page of my creative writing journal
its been about six months since ive started writing
and since this blog. happy birthday blog.
i think the most embarrassing thing i ever did in that class was cry when i read my final.
i cant believe i did that. to this day its the one thing i still regret.
and yet i was proud of myself.
i wanted to read my real talk post. but my conscience just didnt want to. she knew i would cry if i read that as my final, and she had a reputation to uphold.
but i won. the ego went out the window. and i embarrassed myself.
the day i found out harold miner took my post to top 5 was the day i knew i wanted to write. and i loved to write. it meant i could do this. and posts that i felt were tasteless, werent. that my thoughts and ideas were worth something.
its not that i didnt think i was good. but its always nice to hear praise.
creative writing changed my life. i think more creatively than before. i write when im feeling stressed or need an outlet. its helped me get through some tough times. and i want to continue to write throughout my life.
so heres to harold miner- for making writing feel like a choice, and not like homework
*champagne glasses clink in the background*
Wednesday, July 8, 2015
One. Ed Sheeran
to the person who may assume the position of mine
i am sorry in advance that i am picky. its the plain truth.
i wont hire you unless you complete me in places i am broken.
my emotions run too high and i am sorry for that too.
ill cry during titanic
laugh at stupid jokes
scream at spiders 1cm long
but ill feel enough about you to know that i wouldn't leave for anyone else
i want hand holds. whenever. i wont mind.
ill be scared all the time. so just take my hand. show me that everything will work out.
show me that you want this too.
i want to talk to you about what i had for breakfast.
about this stupid thing this guy did during class yesterday. or how im scared im going to loose you. or about how i sleep on my side. and how i hate mustard on hotdogs.
i want to talk to you as if you were my sister, whom i've shared a room with for more than half my life. sisters share secrets no one else knows-not even mom.
sisters laugh
sisters love
sisters accept
sisters talk. about anything. thats what i want with you.
im curious. ill ask you how you got that scar above your left kneecap
or what your favorite type of pasta is.
how you like your eggs.
do you prefer black or white laces on your sneakers
how your vacation to ____ was last year...
and ill love you. though ill be scared ill love you.
ill laugh at any joke you throw at me
smile when you ask me a stupid question
ill hold your hand walking down the street
cry with you when you break down.
ill hug you from behind while standing in line for space mountain
ill fight with you when youre angry at me for spending over our budget
and when you want me to leave i wont. ill hug you until youre less broken than before.
and when i wake up to the smell of your worn cologne in the morning...ill take a deep breath
i love you already.
sincerely, yours.
i am sorry in advance that i am picky. its the plain truth.
i wont hire you unless you complete me in places i am broken.
my emotions run too high and i am sorry for that too.
ill cry during titanic
laugh at stupid jokes
scream at spiders 1cm long
but ill feel enough about you to know that i wouldn't leave for anyone else
i want hand holds. whenever. i wont mind.
ill be scared all the time. so just take my hand. show me that everything will work out.
show me that you want this too.
i want to talk to you about what i had for breakfast.
about this stupid thing this guy did during class yesterday. or how im scared im going to loose you. or about how i sleep on my side. and how i hate mustard on hotdogs.
i want to talk to you as if you were my sister, whom i've shared a room with for more than half my life. sisters share secrets no one else knows-not even mom.
sisters laugh
sisters love
sisters accept
sisters talk. about anything. thats what i want with you.
im curious. ill ask you how you got that scar above your left kneecap
or what your favorite type of pasta is.
how you like your eggs.
do you prefer black or white laces on your sneakers
how your vacation to ____ was last year...
and ill love you. though ill be scared ill love you.
ill laugh at any joke you throw at me
smile when you ask me a stupid question
ill hold your hand walking down the street
cry with you when you break down.
ill hug you from behind while standing in line for space mountain
ill fight with you when youre angry at me for spending over our budget
and when you want me to leave i wont. ill hug you until youre less broken than before.
and when i wake up to the smell of your worn cologne in the morning...ill take a deep breath
i love you already.
sincerely, yours.
Friday, July 3, 2015
a tumblr idea i liked
get to know me uncomfortably well
1. What is you middle name? (i have no middle name)
2. How old are you? n/a
4. What is your zodiac sign? Capricorn
5. What is your favorite color? if im wearing one its black or navy blue. if its just my fav color its purple or aqua
6. What's your lucky number? 11 or 19
7. Do you have any pets? guinea pig
9. How tall are you? maybe 5 5'' on a good day
10. What shoe size are you? 9
11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? maybe 15
12. What was your last dream about? being at a 1D concert and handing out paper stars to fans (??)
13. What talents do you have? laughing at everything even merely funny
14. Are you psychic in any way? i wish
15. Favorite song? today its magic by one direction
16. Favorite movie? titanic with leonardo dicaprio and kate winslet
18. Do you want children? eventually yes
20. Are you religious? mormon.org
22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? nope
23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Pentatonix
24. Baths or showers? showers
25. What color socks are you wearing? none
27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? i can't decide…but today yes
28. What type of music do you like? pop mostly. and some days kenney chesney
29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? …yes
30. How many pillows do you sleep with? two under my head and a pillow pet
31. What position do you usually sleep in? on my right side or stomach
32. How big is your house? umm tbh i don't know.. but it seems pretty big
33. What do you typically have for breakfast? depends. my fav is bagels
34. Have you ever fired a gun? nope
35. Have you ever tried archery? no
38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep? almost 24 hrs…
40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? idk they've never told me so...
41. Are you a good liar? hmm i would say yes
42. Are you a good judge of character? idk i think i am but who knows
43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? i can do British
44. Do you have a strong accent? my cousins say i don't…
45. What is your favorite accent? british ;)
47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? $60 dress from The Loft
48. Can you curl your tongue? yes
49. Are you an innie or an outie? innie :)
50. Left or right handed? left!
51. Are you scared of spiders? YES
52. Favorite food? mac n cheese
53. Favorite foreign food? sushi
54. Are you a clean or messy person? I'm on the cleaner side
55. Most used phrased? better than life / well shoot
56. Most used word? hmm idk
57. How long does it take for you to get ready? around 30min without showering
58. Do you have much of an ego? yeah i think i do?
59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? suck
60. Do you talk to yourself? all the time
61. Do you sing to yourself? that too. especially while i drive
62. Are you a good singer? i think i am
63. Biggest Fear? my friends ditching me for somebody else
64. Are you a gossip? honestly yes
65. Best dramatic movie you've seen? titanic
66. Do you like long or short hair? long hair on myself
67. Can you name all 50 states of America? i sung the states song for a job audition and got the job
68. Favorite school subject? arts stuff. choir. dance. etc
69. Extrovert or Introvert? depends. on weekends I'm extrovert
70. Have you ever been scuba diving? no
71. What makes you nervous? doing dangerous stuff. like bungee jumping
72. Are you scared of the dark? nah
73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? sometimes. depends on who it is
74. Are you ticklish? …yes
75. Have you ever started a rumor? no
76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? yes
77. Have you ever drank underage? nope
78. Have you ever done drugs? nope
79. Who was your first real crush? a kid named jonah in the fourth grade
80. How many piercings do you have? just earrings :)
81. Can you roll your Rs?" yass
82. How fast can you type? 63wpm
84. What color is your hair? light brown
85. What color are your eyes? blue
87. Do you keep a journal? yes. and a blog counts too right?
89. Do you like your age? yes.
90. What makes you angry? when other people aren't pulling their own weight
91. Do you like your own name? yeah. it fits me
92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? not really
93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? a girl
94. What are you strengths? understanding others emotions
95. What are your weaknesses? listening
96. How did you get your name? my mom thought it was a pretty name
97. Were your ancestors royalty? i don't think so
98. Do you have any scars? yeah, tripped in sixth grade- right under my left knee
99. Color of your bedspread? aqua
100. Color of your room? a periwinkle blue
Thursday, June 18, 2015
one last time
the first missionary of many for me leaves next week.
and im missing the best talk of his life.
so i decided to take him out for his favorite food- sushi.
its just plain weird to think you wont see your best friends for two whole years.
it was super nostalgic. like the most nostalgic ive ever been in my entire life.
we talked about jokes we made up in tenth grade
lagoon day
physics class
lunches spent outside
wendys trips
and nights spent at the park.
we went to the park.
laid down on the grass.
and talked more.
i just had to look at him. is that weird to say? i just want to imprint his image on my mind- so i dont forget.
i hate forgetting
like forgetting your password you use everything for, i panic.
because even though the human mind cant remember everything, i want to remember it all.
the way he smells
how he pushes his glasses up his nose
that smirk when hes totally teasing you and you dont know it
and by remembering its like you never lost them.
theyre still here in youre heart
on youre mind
i always loved those return visits with tight hugs and warm smiles
as if saying
i never forgot you either.
and im missing the best talk of his life.
so i decided to take him out for his favorite food- sushi.
its just plain weird to think you wont see your best friends for two whole years.
it was super nostalgic. like the most nostalgic ive ever been in my entire life.
we talked about jokes we made up in tenth grade
lagoon day
physics class
lunches spent outside
wendys trips
and nights spent at the park.
we went to the park.
laid down on the grass.
and talked more.
i just had to look at him. is that weird to say? i just want to imprint his image on my mind- so i dont forget.
i hate forgetting
like forgetting your password you use everything for, i panic.
because even though the human mind cant remember everything, i want to remember it all.
the way he smells
how he pushes his glasses up his nose
that smirk when hes totally teasing you and you dont know it
and by remembering its like you never lost them.
theyre still here in youre heart
on youre mind
i always loved those return visits with tight hugs and warm smiles
as if saying
i never forgot you either.
Sunday, June 14, 2015
summer nights
i wish i was margo from paper towns
and stargirl from stargirl.
i wish i could drive to new york just for fun.
talk until 3am on the phone
read an entire book in a day
and still have time to eat ihop before sunrise.
summertime makes me want to run in my bare feet and tank tops
summer wants me to cut my hair short.
she wants me to live loosely and act wild.
i want to fall in love with someone for a day
and listen to him play "photograph" on the guitar
and we'd take a photograph just to remember the day i fell in love for a day
im a free spirited thinker but a nervous speaker.
i wear watches but never check them for the time.
i write to do lists but never cross off number 10
i turn on "night changes" but never cry while listening to it.
i went to the park today with my two siblings. i watched them play on the park while i sat with my notebook and pen. turned on some music. i tried writing my list but i didnt finish it. i watched them play instead.
Saturday, May 23, 2015
breathe
(inspired by american oxygen, rihanna)
what are we?
who are you?
a mormon
a singer
babysitter
step sibling
rich kid
an american
well they say you can be anything at all in America
is there something in this desert air?
is there something that makes us want to single out the fat kids?
breathe in
or become the next nicki minaj
to beat a black boy to death because he was so thirsty he drank from a grey water fountain.
breathe out
to bet your childs birthday fare to settle your own affairs
buy tickets to a game whos teams you dont even follow
breathe in breathe out
to get so drunk that we forget our children's names the next morning when they ask us where we were last night.
to play baseball just to hear your dad say "im proud of you son"
to sing our souls out on broadway
to flood wall street with signs of "let us be" and "we are free"
to become the best footballer you've ever seen on your high school team
to be the next star on the wrecking ball
that makes you want to sweat years worth of blood so you qualify for the olympics
that turns the music up for us while we drive
breathe in. breathe out.
is there some disease in our apples that makes our apple pie taste more like freedom than sugar?
is there something in the humidity that makes my hair frizz with anger and my heart frizz with halleluiahs.
that makes british accents wish they had american ones.
i mean we want to be german engineers, but german engineers want to breathe free.
do the trees turn CO2 into freedom and do the bells ring out stars
because i cant catch them.
my lungs cant catch them.
my lungs tell my mind to grab those stars but my mind sends an emailed reply saying
"thanks but we're full"
breathe in. breathe out.
there is something in this air we breathe!
we sweat for a nickel and a dime.
we turned this into an empire.
breathe out. breathe in.
american oxygen.
what are we?
who are you?
a mormon
a singer
babysitter
step sibling
rich kid
an american
well they say you can be anything at all in America
is there something in this desert air?
is there something that makes us want to single out the fat kids?
breathe in
or become the next nicki minaj
to beat a black boy to death because he was so thirsty he drank from a grey water fountain.
breathe out
to bet your childs birthday fare to settle your own affairs
buy tickets to a game whos teams you dont even follow
breathe in breathe out
to get so drunk that we forget our children's names the next morning when they ask us where we were last night.
to play baseball just to hear your dad say "im proud of you son"
to sing our souls out on broadway
to flood wall street with signs of "let us be" and "we are free"
to become the best footballer you've ever seen on your high school team
to be the next star on the wrecking ball
that makes you want to sweat years worth of blood so you qualify for the olympics
that turns the music up for us while we drive
breathe in. breathe out.
is there some disease in our apples that makes our apple pie taste more like freedom than sugar?
is there something in the humidity that makes my hair frizz with anger and my heart frizz with halleluiahs.
that makes british accents wish they had american ones.
i mean we want to be german engineers, but german engineers want to breathe free.
do the trees turn CO2 into freedom and do the bells ring out stars
because i cant catch them.
my lungs cant catch them.
my lungs tell my mind to grab those stars but my mind sends an emailed reply saying
"thanks but we're full"
breathe in. breathe out.
there is something in this air we breathe!
we sweat for a nickel and a dime.
we turned this into an empire.
breathe out. breathe in.
american oxygen.
Sunday, May 17, 2015
lets get real
i am too emotional about everything.
like freak i cried about zayn leaving one direction.
i cried when my two best friends decided to date in october
i cried when my mom told me to grow up
i cried when i told my mom happy mothers day at church.
i cry when i read after.
i cried when ed starting singing photograph and i realized this day will become one
i cried after i finished my last choir concert.
and if i havent cried yet im probably on the verge of tears.
i scream when im about to cry.
i screamed when i found out that terik gagon commited suicide
i screamed into my pillow when he didnt reply to my confession of i " like like " you.
i scream inside when i think about how i wont see him there in july.
but i laugh to cover up my screams.
i laughed when they called me fat.
i laugh during slow dances when it gets awkward
i laughed at him because he said my laugh was adorable and i didnt believe him
i laugh when i hear stupid jokes just so they dont feel bad
i laughed when he said your blog is amazing
i laugh so much i swear ill live a thousand years
but living that long would be torture for what i feel.
"it is a curse and a blessing to feel everything so deeply"
megs
like freak i cried about zayn leaving one direction.
i cried when my two best friends decided to date in october
i cried when my mom told me to grow up
i cried when i told my mom happy mothers day at church.
i cry when i read after.
i cried when ed starting singing photograph and i realized this day will become one
i cried after i finished my last choir concert.
and if i havent cried yet im probably on the verge of tears.
i scream when im about to cry.
i screamed when i found out that terik gagon commited suicide
i screamed into my pillow when he didnt reply to my confession of i " like like " you.
i scream inside when i think about how i wont see him there in july.
but i laugh to cover up my screams.
i laughed when they called me fat.
i laugh during slow dances when it gets awkward
i laughed at him because he said my laugh was adorable and i didnt believe him
i laugh when i hear stupid jokes just so they dont feel bad
i laughed when he said your blog is amazing
i laugh so much i swear ill live a thousand years
but living that long would be torture for what i feel.
"it is a curse and a blessing to feel everything so deeply"
megs
Saturday, May 9, 2015
its working
i really hate fake people.
can i just be real for a sec? i mean i know some people who literally say they like ____ about everything.
oh i LOVE pasta!
wait i know that song its amazing!
hey you know them too? they're super cool.
yeah i hate pasta too.
have you heard this before? yeah i havent either.
i dont think i know them...maybe ive seen them in my class once.
please dont. like please.
it drives me insane.
have a solid opinion for once!
id rather have someone tell me they straight up hate my taste in music than lie about it.
the worst is when you know the answer to the question already and they change the answer.
UGH
and please dont try to sound cool by knowing everything about everyone. who really knows everyone?? it doesnt make you look cooler in my opinion.
just be you.
dont care about what others think.
i grew up being told by classmates that i was fat. and i believed them until last year. i told myself that its all in your head. get over it. and be you. if you want your spouse to be them, then you have to learn to be you. and you know what? its working.
ive done this for years. so im talking to myself too.
be you with everybody.
not just your boyfriend. not just your family. not just your best friend forever.
i lay it out tbh. well i feel like i lay it out.
yeah i dont know them.
that musics pretty good, but my favorite is one direction.
yep im getting pasta again.
the pink one looks better than the black one.
and you know what? its working.
the confidence is being built. brick by uneven brick.
its working.
this may sound sassy and a bit mean but i just had to say it.
please be you. its the best thing you'll ever do.
can i just be real for a sec? i mean i know some people who literally say they like ____ about everything.
oh i LOVE pasta!
wait i know that song its amazing!
hey you know them too? they're super cool.
yeah i hate pasta too.
have you heard this before? yeah i havent either.
i dont think i know them...maybe ive seen them in my class once.
please dont. like please.
it drives me insane.
have a solid opinion for once!
id rather have someone tell me they straight up hate my taste in music than lie about it.
the worst is when you know the answer to the question already and they change the answer.
UGH
and please dont try to sound cool by knowing everything about everyone. who really knows everyone?? it doesnt make you look cooler in my opinion.
just be you.
dont care about what others think.
i grew up being told by classmates that i was fat. and i believed them until last year. i told myself that its all in your head. get over it. and be you. if you want your spouse to be them, then you have to learn to be you. and you know what? its working.
ive done this for years. so im talking to myself too.
be you with everybody.
not just your boyfriend. not just your family. not just your best friend forever.
i lay it out tbh. well i feel like i lay it out.
yeah i dont know them.
that musics pretty good, but my favorite is one direction.
yep im getting pasta again.
the pink one looks better than the black one.
and you know what? its working.
the confidence is being built. brick by uneven brick.
its working.
this may sound sassy and a bit mean but i just had to say it.
please be you. its the best thing you'll ever do.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
but what if ?
if my heart was a refrigerator, she'd be full of cookie dough, red bell peppers, olive garden alfredo, and jacked diet coke.
if my heart was itunes, all the songs would be illegally downloaded.
if my heart was America, she would reside in LA and have a timeshare in NYC.
if my heart was my bedroom, the comforters would be on year round.
if my heart was English, she'd swoon over American accents
if my heart was cable tv, she'd have one station dedicated to sappy romance movies.
if my heart was a concert, she'd be a One Direction concert that was five hours long. and she'd loose her voice.
if my heart was on vacation, she'd go to Europe and stay there for a very long time.
if my heart had a job, she'd be a dancer. or a song producer.
if my heart had a favorite noise, she'd be rain.
if my heart had a shirt size, she'd be a XXL
if my heart was the weather, she'd rain every morning. sunny skies in the afternoons. no wind whatsoever
if my heart went to the zoo, she'd fly with the eagles and eat with the elephants and swim with the otters.
if my heart graduated in 32 days, she would be ecstatic. oh wait.
if my heart was spotify all the commercials would be super bowl commercials.
if my heart took a hike to the top of timp, she'd stop after one mile and turn around.
if my heart flew to heaven for one day, she'd cry
if my heart went out to dinner, she'd ask for pasta every time.
if my heart had a wedding, the reception would last til 2am.
if my heart was a bag, she'd be a kate spade
if my heart was a cereal, she'd be lucky charms. or cheerios.
if my heart spoke in church, no one would understand her tearful words.
if my heart had a heart it would say " do what you love"
if my heart was itunes, all the songs would be illegally downloaded.
if my heart was America, she would reside in LA and have a timeshare in NYC.
if my heart was my bedroom, the comforters would be on year round.
if my heart was English, she'd swoon over American accents
if my heart was cable tv, she'd have one station dedicated to sappy romance movies.
if my heart was a concert, she'd be a One Direction concert that was five hours long. and she'd loose her voice.
if my heart was on vacation, she'd go to Europe and stay there for a very long time.
if my heart had a job, she'd be a dancer. or a song producer.
if my heart had a favorite noise, she'd be rain.
if my heart had a shirt size, she'd be a XXL
if my heart was the weather, she'd rain every morning. sunny skies in the afternoons. no wind whatsoever
if my heart went to the zoo, she'd fly with the eagles and eat with the elephants and swim with the otters.
if my heart graduated in 32 days, she would be ecstatic. oh wait.
if my heart was spotify all the commercials would be super bowl commercials.
if my heart took a hike to the top of timp, she'd stop after one mile and turn around.
if my heart flew to heaven for one day, she'd cry
if my heart went out to dinner, she'd ask for pasta every time.
if my heart had a wedding, the reception would last til 2am.
if my heart was a bag, she'd be a kate spade
if my heart was a cereal, she'd be lucky charms. or cheerios.
if my heart spoke in church, no one would understand her tearful words.
if my heart had a heart it would say " do what you love"
Saturday, April 25, 2015
washington dc 2015
since i took so many pictures in washington dc i thought id share them.
that was Arlington cemetery.
MLK gave his I Have A Dream speech right there
Lincoln Memorial
Washington Memorial in the distance
Holocaust Museum
Capitol Building
Library of Congress
Jefferson's Library. they still have some of his original books there
not accessible aka national treasure movie
Library of Congress
Jefferson Memorial
good ol Jefferson himself
hey there obama.
below is the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier
Jerry our bus driver
Washington's House
good friends. great capitol. amazing country
'merica
from Washington to Jefferson
Sunday, April 19, 2015
in remembrance
Never forget
My best friend Mallory Wolf from kindergarten. She had dimples
My first move from California to Chicago.
The ninth grade dance I didn't go to.
Spring break morning when nat threw bananas into my cereal.
That rub-your-back kind of hug
The squeeze-you-tight kind of hug
The Holocaust
Purposefully
going to McDonald's after work even though I knew I would get the "why
don't you obey me" schpeal from my mom afterwards
MLKs I Have A Dream Speech
Sleeping over at grams house to help with thanksgiving dinner
The Civil War
watching the dog show after the Macy's thanksgiving day parade (I always route for the pug)
Summer mornings watching the price is right with bob barker. 9am every weekday
The Ringer on the way to Washington, D.C.
Listening to the first song of their newest album for the first time
When he called my earrings "sexy". I laughed
Sitting behind president bednar on an airplane and not talking to him.
Finding president bednar in an airport seven years later and redeeming myself.
July 2012
My best friend opening his mission call. I almost cried.
Wanting to be an artist in eighth grade
Telling him I loved him first. He said it back.
Mar 3 2015
That flying feeling in your stomach as you land from a flight
Telling him I loved him first. He didn't respond.
Friends coming to visit you at work
Your toothless seven-year-old smile
Not acting my age at stake dances
Regrets
Never remember
Going to the ER
the dirty jokes
Stigmas
1945 Germany
Being called fat
Zayn quitting the band
Turning the machine off
Letting go of the leash
Spring break 2014
Reading the next page
Gossip
Dad getting surgery
Swear words
Jan 20 2010
Mistakes
Dec 2013
Finding out
Feb 25 2015 10pm
But I always want to remember...
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
4 lines about boys
he gave me flowers on friday.
it wasnt anything special. he didnt want his, and i was walking by.
give it to your mom- she'll love them
but he gave them to me anyway. and i love him for that.
he drove over to my house on tuesday.
it wasnt anything special. he was bringing me a smoothie because i had a cough.
i dont need a smoothie- my mom bought me one earlier
but he bought me one anyway. and i love him for that.
he talked with me late wednesday night.
it wasnt anything special. he had a question about a girl and he wanted advice.
i didnt know that much- honestly someone else might know more
but he stayed and talked anyway. and i love him for that.
he compliments me every day.
its not anything special. just simple things.
yeah right my hairs just in a ponytail today.
but he says them anyway- in his joking yet kind voice. and i love him for that.
he finds me every day.
its nothing special. he says hi and always smiles at me. asks me what im doing.
im not doing much.
but he keeps smiling. and he listens. and i love him for that.
boys are not all the same.
but they're all special in some way.
boys aren't perfect. and neither are girls.
but they're trying. and i love them for that.
it wasnt anything special. he didnt want his, and i was walking by.
give it to your mom- she'll love them
but he gave them to me anyway. and i love him for that.
he drove over to my house on tuesday.
it wasnt anything special. he was bringing me a smoothie because i had a cough.
i dont need a smoothie- my mom bought me one earlier
but he bought me one anyway. and i love him for that.
he talked with me late wednesday night.
it wasnt anything special. he had a question about a girl and he wanted advice.
i didnt know that much- honestly someone else might know more
but he stayed and talked anyway. and i love him for that.
he compliments me every day.
its not anything special. just simple things.
yeah right my hairs just in a ponytail today.
but he says them anyway- in his joking yet kind voice. and i love him for that.
he finds me every day.
its nothing special. he says hi and always smiles at me. asks me what im doing.
im not doing much.
but he keeps smiling. and he listens. and i love him for that.
boys are not all the same.
but they're all special in some way.
boys aren't perfect. and neither are girls.
but they're trying. and i love them for that.
Friday, April 10, 2015
to: heaven from: megs
Tirk.
we're supposed to write about shoes this week. but i don't know what to write about. maybe writing a letter to you will help me out. you always had crazy ideas and they always made me laugh.
ive honestly thought about being in your shoes before. i think about what maybe you've thought about. i went up to salt lake on saturday. i took trax. Sophie and i were waiting for the next train-about twenty minutes- and i just stopped. you had been here. i stood up and looked down the track. i was silent for a minute. for you. i don't know how you did it. or where you did it. but you were there.
ive heard of people saying they felt the impact. but i try not to think about that too much.
did you know that day it was going to be your last? i hope you didn't. because you seemed happy that morning. you smiled at me! i couldn't have forced a smile if it were me.
i went to your funeral. there was no way i would miss that. your parents told the best stories about you. i cried. i even laughed a little. i sang for you. i cried some more. i touched your box. the flowers were beautiful. i swear you were there- i know you were there. i felt that box for a long time. i held onto it for a while. i didn't want to let go.
i have this weird thing about funerals. i hate looking at the body; its just not them. i hate walking past a bed of nobody. its eerie. but i wanted to see yours. i wanted to see you one last time. but i knew i wouldn't. the pictures in my head would've been tainted forever, so im glad that i didnt see you.
i miss you. yeah im doing better.
its weird, but i think i've changed. i see people in the hallway and ill say hi to them, even if they are only in one of my classes. i see other kids doing that too. lone peak has changed, Terik.
i have survivors guilt. yeah im doing better.
i visited you today for the first time. my dad has this thing called grave talking. i grave talked to you today. its a kinda weird thing to do. but its comforting to have you listen.
i expected myself to cry. maybe even break down a little, right there on the grass. but i didnt. im not sad anymore. i smiled at the pinwheel. i felt peace. and im not sad anymore.
but enough about me- how was your welcome home party?! im so mad that i missed it. i hope all of your friends were there. and your family. i bet all of your artwork was on the walls. who wouldn't want to display them?! i bet you danced the night away. and laughed til your stomach hurt.
i bet He welcomed you with wide arms. i bet He cried too. happy tears.
i miss you Terik.
check up on Grandpa, Gram, and Suzie for me
love
megs
we're supposed to write about shoes this week. but i don't know what to write about. maybe writing a letter to you will help me out. you always had crazy ideas and they always made me laugh.
ive honestly thought about being in your shoes before. i think about what maybe you've thought about. i went up to salt lake on saturday. i took trax. Sophie and i were waiting for the next train-about twenty minutes- and i just stopped. you had been here. i stood up and looked down the track. i was silent for a minute. for you. i don't know how you did it. or where you did it. but you were there.
ive heard of people saying they felt the impact. but i try not to think about that too much.
did you know that day it was going to be your last? i hope you didn't. because you seemed happy that morning. you smiled at me! i couldn't have forced a smile if it were me.
i went to your funeral. there was no way i would miss that. your parents told the best stories about you. i cried. i even laughed a little. i sang for you. i cried some more. i touched your box. the flowers were beautiful. i swear you were there- i know you were there. i felt that box for a long time. i held onto it for a while. i didn't want to let go.
i have this weird thing about funerals. i hate looking at the body; its just not them. i hate walking past a bed of nobody. its eerie. but i wanted to see yours. i wanted to see you one last time. but i knew i wouldn't. the pictures in my head would've been tainted forever, so im glad that i didnt see you.
i miss you. yeah im doing better.
its weird, but i think i've changed. i see people in the hallway and ill say hi to them, even if they are only in one of my classes. i see other kids doing that too. lone peak has changed, Terik.
i have survivors guilt. yeah im doing better.
i visited you today for the first time. my dad has this thing called grave talking. i grave talked to you today. its a kinda weird thing to do. but its comforting to have you listen.
but enough about me- how was your welcome home party?! im so mad that i missed it. i hope all of your friends were there. and your family. i bet all of your artwork was on the walls. who wouldn't want to display them?! i bet you danced the night away. and laughed til your stomach hurt.
i bet He welcomed you with wide arms. i bet He cried too. happy tears.
i miss you Terik.
check up on Grandpa, Gram, and Suzie for me
love
megs
Monday, April 6, 2015
scents of life
freshly cut grass
coconut shampoo
feet
cookies in the oven
your baby blanket
the ocean
SUSHI
petting zoos in the middle of nowhere
lemon soap
leather couches
wet dog
a washed sweatshirt
fresh air
pinesol
the smell of A&F stores
bathrooms
your pajamas
our moment perfume
slc
a burger from mcdonalds
balloons
vanilla blackberry lotion
burnt pancakes
flowers
a new phone case
cafe rio's cilantro dressing
old books
cadbury eggs
wet hair
summer
lush bath bombs
olive garden breadsticks
your own breath
cologne
pine trees
hot apple cider
hawaii
Friday, March 27, 2015
hey its me. tess.
you know when i first signed up for this class i knew i would have to do this
"reveal" myself.
i had so many good reviews from my friends that this was the class my high school transcript couldn't miss. but i didn't know that this would probably be the one class that i will miss. oh its not over yet thank the heavens. but ill still continue to write because of you.
every comment makes my heart leap. every new blog post gets my blood pumping. all because of you. you're amazing thoughts. detailed descriptions. countless ideas. and the ability to keep an open mind.
here goes nothing.
i wasnt born here. i grew up in many places.
half my life ive spent outside the bubble. and i miss it.
i hated it here. the first year was the hardest.
and to be honest some days i still hate it here. but im getting over it.
i am the oldest. and being the oldest is hard. no lie.
the thing i am most complimented on is my laugh. and its one of the only things i actually adore about myself. besides my eyes. i like those too. and my hair on some occasions.
i seem outgoing, and i try to be, but its scary for me. they say that whatever you want in a spouse you need in yourself, so im trying it out. i hope it works.
i started dancing in seventh grade. it keeps me sane.
my close friends may think that i am always laughing, but im not. only around them. to keep the thoughts at bay while away from home.
i decorate cakes for a living. so hmu.
i am probably more serious than i think i am, on the inside at least.
ive always wanted to wear a huge black floppy hat, but i dont want to seem too white girl on the outside. i dont want to be seen as fake.
my biggest problem is trust. i have a hard time trusting other people besides myself. especially guys. im sorry if i become closed off. i dont mean to. if you want to- keep trying. i know ill open up eventually.
im not as nervous as i think i would be about this.
T e s s a T o d d.
"reveal" myself.
i had so many good reviews from my friends that this was the class my high school transcript couldn't miss. but i didn't know that this would probably be the one class that i will miss. oh its not over yet thank the heavens. but ill still continue to write because of you.
every comment makes my heart leap. every new blog post gets my blood pumping. all because of you. you're amazing thoughts. detailed descriptions. countless ideas. and the ability to keep an open mind.
here goes nothing.
i wasnt born here. i grew up in many places.
half my life ive spent outside the bubble. and i miss it.
i hated it here. the first year was the hardest.
and to be honest some days i still hate it here. but im getting over it.
i am the oldest. and being the oldest is hard. no lie.
the thing i am most complimented on is my laugh. and its one of the only things i actually adore about myself. besides my eyes. i like those too. and my hair on some occasions.
i seem outgoing, and i try to be, but its scary for me. they say that whatever you want in a spouse you need in yourself, so im trying it out. i hope it works.
i started dancing in seventh grade. it keeps me sane.
my close friends may think that i am always laughing, but im not. only around them. to keep the thoughts at bay while away from home.
i decorate cakes for a living. so hmu.
i am probably more serious than i think i am, on the inside at least.
ive always wanted to wear a huge black floppy hat, but i dont want to seem too white girl on the outside. i dont want to be seen as fake.
my biggest problem is trust. i have a hard time trusting other people besides myself. especially guys. im sorry if i become closed off. i dont mean to. if you want to- keep trying. i know ill open up eventually.
im not as nervous as i think i would be about this.
T e s s a T o d d.
Friday, March 20, 2015
the room.
by the end of this story i have tear streaks down my face. i apologize for being a bit religious, but it puts things into perspective. if you have the time, read it. if you dont, bookmark this and read it later.
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in a room. There were no distinguishing features in this room save the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked". I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed".
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read", "Lies I Have Told", "Comfort I Have Given", "Jokes I Have Laughed At". Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents". I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title --- "People I Have Shared the Gospel With". The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine.
It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
i promise its worth your time.
The Room
written by Joshua Harris
*pictures were inserted by me*
In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in a room. There were no distinguishing features in this room save the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "Girls I Have Liked". I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match.
A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed".
The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read", "Lies I Have Told", "Comfort I Have Given", "Jokes I Have Laughed At". Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger", "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents". I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped.
I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 20 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.
When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To", I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew that file represented.
When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts", I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded.
An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it.
Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The title --- "People I Have Shared the Gospel With". The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand.
And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one?
Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again. He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me.
Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card.
"No!" I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was "No, no," as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine.
It was written with His blood.
He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards. I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, "It is finished."
I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.
Wednesday, March 18, 2015
even my stream of conscious returns to you
hammer
nails
house
blue
Chicago
trees
tramp
leaves
red
fall
walking the dog- i cant believe my dog died like she was kinda blind not all the way ill always walk her in my mind my house is crazy boring wheres the backyard i used to have with swings i remember swinging so high i bumped on my 5th pump of my legs and i flew never came back like peter pan was with me and we flew. dang did we fly. whoah. man im never comin back cause who wants reality when you can have a dream. hook never caught me. tink never hated me. it was the dream. perfect teeth crimped hair suntans summer yall year round. sunny snowcones i flew the rest of my life hearts never fly away but mine did. why i dunno cause i had nothing to stop it. maybe it wanted to leave cause when its gone i dont feel and thats what i want is to let go of him. sitting next to me in math. smiling at me. flying with me.
nails
house
blue
Chicago
trees
tramp
leaves
red
fall
walking the dog- i cant believe my dog died like she was kinda blind not all the way ill always walk her in my mind my house is crazy boring wheres the backyard i used to have with swings i remember swinging so high i bumped on my 5th pump of my legs and i flew never came back like peter pan was with me and we flew. dang did we fly. whoah. man im never comin back cause who wants reality when you can have a dream. hook never caught me. tink never hated me. it was the dream. perfect teeth crimped hair suntans summer yall year round. sunny snowcones i flew the rest of my life hearts never fly away but mine did. why i dunno cause i had nothing to stop it. maybe it wanted to leave cause when its gone i dont feel and thats what i want is to let go of him. sitting next to me in math. smiling at me. flying with me.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Mess Is Mine. Vance Joy
im afraid im not strong enough to fight off my demons. they haunt me every night. sometimes i win; sometimes i collapse from the strain.
im afraid the Y chose the wrong freshman.
im afraid of the day when my siblings will do better than their older sister.
im afraid of finding out who my close bloggers are, because i dont want to fall back onto my preconceptions of them. before i got to know them.
im afraid of being so judgemental of others that i dont let them in between my brick and straw walls. i hate to say it but i am judgemental. i judge so easily. and i hate that about myself.
im afraid of not being able to stand by myself.
im afraid of missing the signs to find the one. im afraid of making mistakes that can grab me by the wrist and pull me away from meeting him. i hope he's afraid of meeting me too.
im afraid of firsts. first kisses. first loves. first bites. the first to say something. the first step.
im afraid of sharing my playlists with others. because half of it is basically one direction.
(it took me convincing myself to even post this line)
im afraid of you. of what youre going to say to me. what you think of me. what youre preconceptions of me are. but why would you be one of my greatest fears? pant size wasnt on my mind until someone told me i was fat in the second grade.
im afraid of crying in front of you. of telling you the reason behind the tears.
im afraid of telling others of my fears. vulnerability isnt my forte. id rather make people laugh at my false insecurities than tell them about the real ones.
its the truth. we'd rather fake the upper hand while being dealt the lower one.
but here are the crappy cards.
read em and weep.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Earned It. The Weeknd
bloggers i desperately want to meet (in no specific order):
heisenburg
Nemo Green
Walter Mitty
Nutella Waffles
Roosevelt Lee
Wendy Darling
Beatrice McCandless
bloggers i want to get to know better:
Felicity Sharpe
Hector Vance
Blank Space
A.S. Ketchum
D R E S D E N
Alta June
Elouise Hughes
Philo Farnsworth
Simran Stone
Lola J.
Pepper Ivey
bloggers i feel close to because of their blog:
Solstice Everston
Lucille Ball
avery moon
Walter Mitty
Charlie Laurent
Sonny Jean
Gwendalyn Rows
my apologies to those whom i havent gotten to know yet. trust me- i want to know you.
heisenburg
Nemo Green
Walter Mitty
Nutella Waffles
Roosevelt Lee
Wendy Darling
Beatrice McCandless
bloggers i want to get to know better:
Felicity Sharpe
Hector Vance
Blank Space
A.S. Ketchum
D R E S D E N
Alta June
Elouise Hughes
Philo Farnsworth
Simran Stone
Lola J.
Pepper Ivey
bloggers i feel close to because of their blog:
Solstice Everston
Lucille Ball
avery moon
Walter Mitty
Charlie Laurent
Sonny Jean
Gwendalyn Rows
my apologies to those whom i havent gotten to know yet. trust me- i want to know you.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
FourFiveSeconds. Rihanna n Kayne n Paul
things ive stolen
a cookie from the cookie jar
songs from youtube
lines from blogs
styles from stores
free time from my sister
clothes from my other sister
fun from my brother
a pen from dentists office
a mismatching sock
admission from a stranger who deserved it
life from someone who didnt want it
college funds from my parents
a car from my uncle
ideas from pinterest
quotes from hardin
instagram captions
purity
my mind
things ive yet to steal
a heart
a cookie from the cookie jar
songs from youtube
lines from blogs
styles from stores
free time from my sister
clothes from my other sister
fun from my brother
a pen from dentists office
a mismatching sock
admission from a stranger who deserved it
life from someone who didnt want it
college funds from my parents
a car from my uncle
ideas from pinterest
quotes from hardin
instagram captions
purity
my mind
things ive yet to steal
a heart
Friday, March 6, 2015
Cigarette Daydreams. Cage the Elephant
life.
there is so much you can get from it.
you can learn.
about biochemistry. volcanoes. H2O. Beethoven. politics. ballet. One Republic. beat boxing. how to bake a smith island cake. where to find the best European sodas. how to make the perfect free throw.
you can smile.
about her. about him. about saying the punch line flawlessly. about drinking the perfect European soda. being the first on the swing set to make the entire thing go "bump". singing an entire chorus with the right words. staring at a starry sky.
you can cry.
about him. about her. your acceptance letter. the necklace your mom gave you that she inherited from her mom. about hating your new haircut. the perfect breakup song. getting the answer you've been praying for.
you can laugh.
at that flawless punchline. at the awkward couple. at yourself. your best friends. trying to play suck and blow. pretending to be college kids. katy perry blowing out your eardrums as you stick your head out the window. the lights dimming for the concert to start.
but most of all. we can live.
to grow. to gain. to succeed.
so lets jump on our train. cause its coming into the station soon.
there is so much you can get from it.
you can learn.
about biochemistry. volcanoes. H2O. Beethoven. politics. ballet. One Republic. beat boxing. how to bake a smith island cake. where to find the best European sodas. how to make the perfect free throw.
you can smile.
about her. about him. about saying the punch line flawlessly. about drinking the perfect European soda. being the first on the swing set to make the entire thing go "bump". singing an entire chorus with the right words. staring at a starry sky.
you can cry.
about him. about her. your acceptance letter. the necklace your mom gave you that she inherited from her mom. about hating your new haircut. the perfect breakup song. getting the answer you've been praying for.
you can laugh.
at that flawless punchline. at the awkward couple. at yourself. your best friends. trying to play suck and blow. pretending to be college kids. katy perry blowing out your eardrums as you stick your head out the window. the lights dimming for the concert to start.
but most of all. we can live.
to grow. to gain. to succeed.
so lets jump on our train. cause its coming into the station soon.
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Wasted. Tiesto
i know that this post is probably not fitting the mood of this weeks events, but i wrote it before wednesday. and i think itll boost some of our spirits.
so roll with it please :)
how to date yourself (the right way)
from the white girl herself
*insert girl flipping hair emoji here*
1. go to starbucks- at least once a week
*adds starbucks cup of frapp to the snap story*
2. get that mani pedi- treat yoself girl!3. dont share your batch of cookie dough with anybody, not even the oven
4. watch an episode of your fav tv series
jk like an entire five hours worth
5. if the shoes fit, buy em. and if they dont fit, buy em.
if they pinch your pinky toe, still buy them.
if they pinch your pinky toe, still buy them.
6. take a hour shower. to exfoliate yoself
7. buy the best known brand of beach waves hair spray and use it after every shower
*for that perfect beach wave look*
8. get on pinterest and pin the best outfits, recipes, and bedroom pics you can find
9. shave the best shave youve ever done.
aka take 30min to get all that hair outta your life
10. for all you guys out there- play 5 hrs of xbox and call of duty just cause you can
14. give yourself a good hour to get updated on twitter, vine, and insta
11. shoot hoops all day er day
12. hang with the gang whenever
13. get your betos on
*blanks on whatever else guys do*
...er ok...
dont wanna miss any of that twitter drama
oh and find the best vine so you can tell everybody what theyre missing
15. eat all 8 slices of your 5 buck pizzeria masterpiece
16. go running. buy healthy foods no one has ever heard of so you can say
"yeah im actually on a diet"
17. drive around at night blasting your tunes. with the windows rolled down.
*takes cool insta worthy pic of hair flying in the wind*
caption: me and my broken car
18. dont give a crap about that ex of yours. they're long gone, and look who replaced them.
the most perfect person
aka you
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