At any given moment, you do not exist. Your body exists, temporary though it may be. Still, you are not your body. You are merely an electrochemical process of your body. The continuity of your separate self is manufactured every few milliseconds by a hunk of warm grey meat between your ears. In the time it takes you to read this sentence, your brain has created you a thousand times, and it has left behind a thousand ghosts of you.
All my friends are ghosts. And I don’t recognize myself with my hair down.
Took two baths in one day.
I won’t skip breakfast.
Everyone is at a party.
I’m drawing in the kitchen.
Pretending I know how to fix a sink.
When your ears are cold. They may as well be a scrap of cardboard. Stiff and obstinate. Useful but unlikable. Losing friends. Being disliked.
To carry the responsibility of everyone else’s emotions is a curse that will poison any bright spot in yourself. And still, so many of us devote a majority of our energy to trying to sustain the world at large. Being unliked sucks. There is no deep way to say that. It just flat out s-u-c-k-s.
You simply cant be everyone’s darling. But god damn would I like to be. The truth is people don’t like me. I may be delusionally optimistic in saying that I think more people like me than don’t, but even that sentiment is rooted in raging insecurity and fires. Its hard, ya know?
I’ve crawled out of some pretty dark spots. Lifted myself through sadness and shadows. Healed from oceans of bullshit and pain. Learned to laugh more and to not take myself as seriously. I am proud of how far I have come. I am excited about how much further I can go. But what I really want to accomplish is a sense of acceptance in being exactly the way I am at this exact moment. Also…hard as fuck.
Hard because people will always criticize you. And your words. And your life. And your ass. And your decisions. Because it will never be good enough for everyone. And it shouldn’t be. Im beginning to learn that its okay to not like people and I can bet my bottom dollar people aren’t going to like me. So why does it feel so desperate and hallow when I find out someone doesn’t care for me?
Well because one, it’s painful to not be accepted regardless of what age you are. Look all around you. There are fires and wars built entirely on a buried down deep fear or reaction to rejection. Being rejected blows. Yet in our pursuit to be accepted by everyone ever we deny ourselves the opportunity to experience genuine feelings. To sincerely not like something. To sincerely like something. To have preference. And what a fantastically tragic and borderline laughable state of existence that we even have a fucking option to worry about things like that. Considering a majority of the world doesn’t have clean drinking water, I think I can figure out how to not be a codependent loony tune.
Ima’ train my brain to stop being such a freak. Ima’ be nicer to myself. Forgive more and trust myself wholly.
Ok, signing off. Enough of this new age hippie bullshit- I have to go make a chia seed spinach smoothie with flax seed.
Anonymous asked: SEVEN REASONS YOU SHOULD REACH OUT TO EVERY PERSON EVER - can you please explain to me why you take credit for the zooey deschanel quote on number 7.. to people who do not know it is by her.. it can be very misleading. and i hope i am not coming off as a meanjean but i'm mildly offended at the plagorism..
Hello! I think that you are a little confused. This particular article was massively circulated online. It was reblogged tens of thousands of times and excerpts were reblogged as well. I see that Zooey was quoted as saying the exact words of the last paragraph on a fanpage and that is a simple error or misunderstanding as to who the author of that content was.
The article was published on Hellogiggles.com which is co-operated and owned by Zooey herself and when the article was published she personally posted it to her facebook page for her fans to read (so sweet of her!). This alone clears up any question of “plagiarism” as I am sure she wouldn’t publish, promote and enjoy an article if she was in fact being plagiarized.
I do, however, respect your ambition of upholding the integrity of writing and published work on the internet!
UPDATE: I have contacted the editors of hellogiggles in hopes of sorting out this mess as it jeopardizes my reputation as a writer and forces me to defend the integrity of my work. I’ll let all of you know if they respond!
The most compelling part of love is that it penetrates all of our surface identities. It speaks to the parts of ourselves that cannot be obviously seen or understood. It whispers to our bones and sings to our heart. And when love is truly given selflessly it changes who we are as people.
Love is not an easy emotion. It is complicated and woven with difficulties and fears. It has shadows and dark spots that shake us. But the instinct to love and be loved is primal. It is irreplaceable. And it cannot be diminished no matter what cruelty and ugliness we’ve been exposed to.
Love Is a borderless and infinite shape. This is why we make music. And paint. And build bridges. And become Olympians. Why we water flowers. Why we go to school. Why we argue. All of this is a symptom of love. The desire to be happy and feel complete. And so it is no wonder we are our own worst enemy in the face of love- it is scary to know we might possess something that in its absence might destroy us or leave us as less than what we arrived as.
In moments of lightness and happiness we find convenience and ease. But when it is dark and we are the shape of something less than captivating, look next to you. Who is there? Those people are the ones you should hold dearest. Those people are the ones you can trust. And if in your moment of loneliness and spider webs you look to your left and to your right and see no one there, know that you are the strongest component of love. Your responsibility to yourself is to love yourself, even when it seems no one else does. Even when you feel lousy and humiliated and forgotten- you must love yourself. Completely. As you are.
These sentiments might be misunderstood as irrationally optimistic. I assure you they are not. It is wise to remember that sadness is not always deep and happiness is not always foolish.
Nor is this an attempt to shove all the sadness under the rug. Sadness is part of your happiness. It is part of the journey of understanding yourself. As you begin to remove the surfaces of your persona you begin to feel lost. Empty and awful. Unsure of your own ability to produce greatness. But if there is one thing I believe in more than anything in the world, it is that we all have immeasurable potential to be wonderful, bright and beautiful human beings. This does not mean you are always smiling and awake and helpful and understanding and that you always know the right thing to say or do. It means that you accept yourself as you are. That you have taken the time to acknowledge the parts of you that you dislike and work on finding ways to change those parts. It means that you take time to be humble. To listen. To admit when you’re wrong. You cannot be free if you are unable to admit you are flawed and imperfect. And eventually you will see that being flawed and imperfect is a gift. It is an opportunity to relate to pain. What would happen if we all stopped acting like we knew how to do everything? If we stopped trying to demean other peoples pursuits? If we loved when it was not immediately easy to do so?
Of course there are nasty mean people who try to intimidate you into being combative and competitive. Who gives a shit? Recognize that their meanness comes from desperation and loneliness. Realize that you have probably felt similarly and while you may not have overtly spilled your poison you do understand that anger is a surface feeling of sadness. So next time someone is a jackass, forgive them. Don’t play into their exchange. Don’t try to sabotage them as well. Wish them well. Understand their sadness and be grateful for the incredible amount of work you have done to be in the place you are at. People cannot steal your joy entirely, they can only entice you with anger so that they will not feel so lonely in their anger. And if those negative influences are part of your everyday life- remove them. Not forcefully or harshly. But bravely and confidently.
You have an undeterminable amount of time on this earth. How will you spend it? Crashing and burning? Or learning and loving? Idiots are everywhere. Don’t mind them. Keep on movin’ and learnin’ and you’ll be just fine.
I hid under the baskets
And I knew exactly how to be like you
And we were a million times bigger
Than we are now
You sat on the cold linoleum with me
head hung over a porcelain bowl
And comforted me
It is in those moments
That love exists
I am lucky
I am lucky
And I took my socks off
And felt all the life
Scattered on the floor
Like tiny rocks and sand
And wiped them off
Before I came into the bed
And said goodnight
And asked you if you
Believed in aliens
It made sense, too. I guess. I mean, it made sense in the same way spending money to make money makes sense. It made sense in the same way buying identify fraud protection makes sense. It made sense like wearing a sweater inside because the AC is too high makes sense.
Unimaginative poison. Gloomy shadows and tired eyes. I don’t like sweet perfume. But i love arnold palmers.
How long do you hold onto something? Everyone telling you to “let it go” but what if letting it go means it erases all of the sweetness? And you’re stuck with an uneventful unrecognizable heart that now only remembers email passwords and work schedules.
What happens then?
I’ve never stopped loving anything I started loving. Love, to me, seems to have no lifespan. I did, however, stop loving the smell of dry laundry detergent. Or maybe I never stopped loving it, I just stopped letting myself love it. I suppose people aren’t unlike dry laundry detergent.
What it would be like to be ‘sexy’. like its showcased in shitty movies they sell for $3.99 at Walgreens. How simple it seems. Lacking any instinct or grace. Uncomfortable clothing and makeup that leaves rainbows on pillowcases. Always light hearted and easy going. I can’t imagine being so relaxed. So shrug your shoulders-whatever you want to do-I don’t mind. I can count on one hand how many times I “haven’t had a preference”. Somedays I relish in this certainty. Other days I mourn my inability to lower my shoulders and let someone else drive.
You know when you meet someone for the first time and they smile in just the right way? Or their eyes shift differently than most peoples? And you just know you’ve detected something miraculous and special? And you begin to wonder how many people you have to meet before you get to discover those special maniac hungry beautiful people? And you find yourself disappointed with anything short of that? What a terrible curse: to truly be moved by another person. Because once you’ve been moved. And your heart has shifted and seen a light it hadn’t know before, you will forever be chasing an illumination that can never be repeated or replaced. And that’s the beauty of love. And people. There are so many opportunities for it. And so many disappointments. It’s unfolding constantly, and most of it is beyond your control. And that just sucks. And it must really suck for people who are micro-managers. And accountants. And jocks who never grew out of their junior year. It must suck for people who follow all the “right” steps to achieve the American dream. Because even if you floss everyday and have a PhD and drink 48 oz of water a day and make your wife come and fold your clothes as soon as they’re out of the drier- even after all that- you still can’t control the thing that compels you the most: love.
It’s for these reasons I sniff the entire row of flowers at the market. That I squash dry leaves in piles. Sleep in the same bed with my Mother when I visit, even though I’m no longer a girl. Cry whenever i feel my eyes get that crying dance. Laugh when it makes sense.
How could you be anything but unhinged?
I don’t know the color
of my hair any
My hands are more like
hers than his
but my nose widens
every time I blow out my
water in empty buckets
Lovely birds and cats,
I haven’t forgotten about you. I still have bumblebees in my heart. It’s just that I’ve started an all female newspaper in my hometown and have been busy playing shows and organizing the paper. Forgive me. I have the next three days off. I’ll write you letters.