It started off an awful day today: I had 40 min. To get to school, broke my hairdryer, dropped my iPod in a toilet and it was a torrential downpour.
Right now: came home to cupcakes, bought a new hairdryer, iPod saved (rice!) and was a great night to go out with not a drop in sight.
Just got home from 2 parties and I am content. I love the people in my life, and I am proud to be where I am right now.
I love you straightforwardly; without complexities or pride;
So I love you because I know no other way.” —Pablo Neruda (via ctown10)
Being sick makes you a vulnerable person. Shriveled, tired, and physically sick makes you want to moan in agony.
You are at a point where you want somebody to take care of you. Actually, you need someone to take care of you. There is something that is missing, or taken away from you that makes you weak in the heart, not weak in the knees.
There is nothing that you need more than a bowl of chicken soup for the soul. Having a day of rest and a thirst for love.
Let the scent be the nuance of the past and reason, lead to the uncertain, but beautiful future.
I am laying here in my bed before midnight. This hasn’t happened in awhile. Between school, practicums and study, I don’t have the time to do much of anything. I say that, but I know time is lost when I stare blankly at the ceiling, cranking out a mental diagram of the rest of the unpleasant week. This organization of my thoughts are not providing me with a source of hope, but with fragility and turmoil I saw weeks ago.
I want the wind to carry me beyond this world. Weightlessness of the gravitational pull of responsibity to melt off my chest for me to finally breathe deep enough to allow my heart to soar among the clouds. Instead, the wind right now rattles my windows, and shakes my soul.