but only with an asterisk*.
This asterisk hits like a comet going down on my self esteem, hitting it and destroying to what was already so low and non existent, to which nothing can grow.
Love your body,
But only when it’s whittled down to a size 0, but only when it has the riggid marks of a champion across my chest, as though it was a scout honor that I praise the case of a non existent waist.
Love your body,
With the nourishment of photoshop, to erase the tears from a face of a girl who thinks to herself: Too fat. Too ugly. No good. Stop eating.
Love your body,
For a man to love you, you do A, B, & C, and please him with the Double D’s to which you had to pay for your future college degree, and now you no more than just a piece to what you use to be.
Love your body,
Don’t forget about those 5 inch heels that you should wear on the first date, and keep them on during sex….on the first date. This let’s him know that “you’re not just a giant cock tease” and give him more than you would ever give yourself credit for. Especially when you know he’s just a walking, talking, giant dick.
Love your body,
Take this quiz that tells you how to please your man. Use your Leo power to jump on that Gemeni, with that V neck dress that Cosmo wants you to buy.
You know? the one with the cinching belt that tightens up your point of view about men and women, and how they should acting in society?
Or the one that elongates the oppression of women and hides the women’s right movement that our mothers & grandmothers fought for? yeah, that dress.
Love your body,
In the dress that doesn’t uplift your mood at all. Only to feel uglier after going through the glossy pages of a plastic magazine. the cold, hard, shiny plastic that we hold so near and dear. Only after page after page of objectification, telling you that you aren’t good enough.
The same pages that can lead us to facing the porcelin god, spewing all the hatred we’ve made for ourselves, and only to feel worse after binging on this magazine,
only after it yells in my ear: love your body.
But what’s left of me, is just an asterisk*
Not sure why I wrote this a few days ago. It was meant to be spoken word, but it’s sometimes better written in stone. I gave it a stab after I felt so defeated with homework, and decided to try something different.
I think there is a reason why Uvic has been consistently named one of the best undergraduate schools in Canada (take a look at Maclean’s magazine for some great sources about each school).
I had a choice to get into the 3 universities here offered in British Columbia: UBC, SFU & Uvic. I was a hardcore academic (and still am) and this was a hard decision. I took a tour of each campus, and have taken a look at what they offer. The decision was obvious: Uvic was my home.
To be honest, even only being 3 hours away from home, it was still a culture shock to me. I haven’t seen so many students from all walks of life - my First year neighbor was from Calgary, and I am currently living with an Ontarian & Manitobian. Like you, I used to live with a roommate who hailed from the USA (California). I have literally only met a handful of people who were born and raised on the island. Everyone is just so kind and amazing - but I think that might just be a Canadian thing.
To way to describe Uvic: a big fish in a fucking beautiful ocean-bowl. It is the best of the West Coast. The weather is literally year round mild, but absolutely beautiful. If you’re an outdoors person, there is so much to do and see! Uvic is located in a place with not one, but two beach fronts literally minutes from campus. You can literally bike EVERYWHERE! there are bike lanes for a reason. Our rowing teams (men and womens) are notorious for winning world competitions, including bringing medals home from the Summer Olympics.
Winter? does not exist here really; we probably get at most 1 week of snow, but even then, Uvic doesn’t even shut down. Downtown is a great place to do almost everything. You can take ferries to literally go anywhere, and as well they have great tourist attractions including a darth vader violinist.
Any downsides to Uvic? I downgraded from a large city to a smaller one. The busyness of Vancouver doesn’t exist here, but I think it’s for the better. A lot of people here at so laid back and relaxed. It makes sense that we have, what I call a hippie population (but they’re harmless, really). I think Vancouver Island also has the largest senior population in Canada as well, but who’s counting really?
Uvic was notorious for their Bunny population - this time last year, the ratio to bunnies to students was 1:20 = literally 3,200 bunnies and rabbits were on campus at any given time. Unfortunately, we had to excavate them and send them south to Texas and fill up every SPCA animal pound we can find.
Would it be the right choice for you? I don’t know. The best way to find out is to invest some good time either researching each place, or if you can afford it, take a tour of each campus. Queens University & Dalhousie University are both in Ontario, very different place (culturally/geographically) than Uvic - I have friends who go to both schools and absolutely adore it. One bonus for being an american in a canadian university? the drinking age is 19, not 21.
But if you ever find yourself on the West Coast, I hope you will just live and breath the culture.
First year courses. You can always tell who is a freshmen in the room. Struggling to find a personable area that allows for some interaction with others.
Be loud, but not too loud. Quiet, but not too quiet. Loud, but not too loud. Be interested, but not to be succumbed to the academic lifestyle bequeathed by the professor who stands alone.
I needed to walk outside today.
After only 4 hours of sleep, after a whirlwind adventure of playing karma cop (in which I pick up my drunkingly stupor roommate downtown with his car & pick up a pair of random stranded students, and drive them home, only to ask them to pay it forward), we get home & talk heart-to-heart, and fall asleep at 4am.
Brunch was served by the 8 people in the kitchen, and we ate in a circle, and I notice that we are divisible into 4 different provinces: Quebec, Ontario, Manitoba, & BC. Once the kitchen was clean, and our stomachs are full, we parted ways in the middle of the afternoon.
I sat in the living and decided to wake myself up, and leave the home at 4pm to go walk outside today.
I have never fully appreciated the amount of beauty I had in my backyard. The ocean was clear in sight, and I hear the waves crash onto the shore, cresting on the turmoil and anxiety that I’ve had for weeks, until I was able to get the full force of the beauty that mother nature has bequeathed on me.
I sat in silence only to hear the voice of mother nature sing me a lullaby that has soothed my soul.
I questioned to which if the number 4 has become a part of my life, but then I realized that there were 4 bird houses among the trees in our backyard.
That makes it 5 observations of the number 4. Perfect.
well, I don’t wear thick glasses for nothing.
Also, on that chart - it’s suppose to be “to” not “too” (songs I never listen to).
the rain on the pavement glows as a car zooms past me. Under my umbrella, I can enjoy the warm mist lightly touched my skin. I took the scenic route to bask in the nature of Victoria, only to find myself in the midst of bloom. Yes, it is Spring.
It is difficult to talk to a person who is in physical emotional turmoil, but won’t admit to their current state. Eyes start to well up, while the trembling of the voice is only secondary to the flushed cheeks. They look away, adverting your attention to something else, while they wipe their eyes. Someone who is in internal turmoil can look at you, dead in the face, and can tell you that they’re fine. Almost instinctively, you can sense their feeble state, just wanting nourishment of support and love.
It is 3am in the morning. I drive downtown calm and collective Not 1 or 2, but 5 belligerent drunks in the back seat of the car. “Monster” blasts through the stereo system while taking back alley ways to avoid the swarm of police downtown. Party crashing with whiskey, lollipops and questioning the philosophical questions of the afterlife. A quick drop by to McDonalds and a lost cell phone later, and found in the morning. 6:30 in the morning, I hit the sack.
Yes, it was one of those one of those moments.
3 belligerent gentlemen in the back seat with my roommate riding shotgun. It was a mix of 90’s music from my childhood: backstreet boys, SCLUB7 & the spice girls were echoing through the speakers of a busted Corolla. Late nights with crisp air grazing my head.
Just one of those university moments.
I have eaten
that were in
you were probably
they were delicious
and so cold
- Jamie: woah...when did Miley Cyrus grow boobs?
- Bachelor Brian: I know, right? but I must say, she is hot.
- Jamie: She's not even 21! she's still a minor!
- Bachelor Brian: ...and your point?
I am not in the best emotional state at the moment since the afternoon. I write this feeling indifferent. It’s a weird feeling to just want the need to cry; something about the outpour of raw emotion that makes it so uplifting and closing of an episode, and starting new.
Believe me, I have lived a blessed life with a wonderful life. There isn’t really anything I should cry about. It is all the pent up emotion of the downward spiral of small moments of panic that has yet to be expressed fully.
best writing tip ever