"You don’t deserve to be loved half way. You don’t deserve to be lied to. You don’t deserve to be second, or third or even tied for first. You deserve to be the only one, you deserve to be ‘the one’ and absolutely nothing less. It’s not about settling, it’s not about making yourself small to be able to fit someone else’s needs. It’s about being who you are and being patient enough to wait for the person who wants that. It’s about loving yourself enough to understand that not everyone will love you."the year of letting go, of understanding loss. grace. of the word ‘no’ and also being able to say ‘you are not kind.’ the year of humanity/humility. when the whole world couldn’t get out of bed. everyone i’ve met this year, says the same thing ‘you are so easy to be around, how do you do that?’ the year i broke open and dug out all the rot with own hands. the year i learned to small talk. and how to smile at strangers. the year i understood that i am my best when i reach out and ask ‘do you want to be my friend?’ the year of sugar, everywhere. softness. sweetness. honey honey. the year of being alone, and learning how much i like it. the year of hugging people i don’t know, because i want to know them. the year i made peace and love, right here.
"One day you’ll realize that sometimes is just not enough. When he sometimes loves you, when he is sometimes sweet, when he sometimes cares about your feelings, and when he sometimes validates your opinions; you will think that sometimes is enough. But then one day comes— and you realize that always is much better. Always is what you deserve. Someone else will give you always. Wait for it."
http://www.vogue.com/13424095/breathless-karley-sciortino-am-i-jaded/?mbid=social_facebook
"Dobrzy ludzie zawsze siebie nisko cenią."
Przecież o to właśnie w życiu chodzi. Nie o wakacje, kolacje w knajpach i pragnienie posiadania więcej rzeczy, ale o to, by napić się razem herbaty i przytulić po długim dniu. Chodzi o wybaczanie i zapominanie, ulgowe traktowanie. A także o uczciwość, prawdę i zaufanie, o stworzenie bezpiecznego, ciepłego schronienia dla tych, których się kocha. Chodzi o to, by z sobą być a nie bywać."
"Związek jest po to aby wznosić, nie dołować. I nie mówię tu o stwarzaniu fałszywych złudzeń typu: możesz być najlepszy. Chodzi o słowo „spróbuj”. Chodzi o moment, kiedy ty jesteś już bliski rzucenia wszystkiego a ta druga osoba podchodzi do ciebie i mówi: zrób to jeszcze raz. Dla siebie. Związki są po to aby ta druga osoba nas wspierała i motywowała do tego, abyśmy byli lepsi. Abyśmy budowali swój świat, a nie marnowali. Bądź z kimś kto cię uskrzydla, a nie wiąże ci jaja w supeł."
Kiedyś płakałem, nic nie mówiłem, dzisiaj nie umiem już płakać.'
Yooooł żarłoku! :* Tak sie zastanawiałam ostatnio co sie stało ze przestaliśmy rozmawiać i sie widywać. Naprawdę spooko spędzało mi sie z Tobą czas i chyba nie do końca rozumiem dlaczego to juz sie skończyło. Nie szukam zobowiązań ani niczego, ale fajnie mi sie z Tobą rozmawiało iiii myślałam że jesteśmy trochę podobni i damn, po prostu szkoda mi, ze tak to sie skończyło :< Jesli zrobiłam cos nie tak albo czyms cię uraziłam to po prostu chciałabym wiedzieć i przez to lepiej rozumieć tą sytuacje 😉 polubiłam Cię choć niewielu ludzi naprawdę lubię haha 😂 W ogóle zastanawiałam się co sprawiło, że zmieniłeś do mnie stosunek-czy gdyby nie było tych nocy, to wciąż byśmy się przyjaźnili? Brakuje mi naszych przejażdżek i rozmów, seriooo :< I miałeś rację, byłam przy Tobie grzeczna, a to nie jestem chyba do końca prawdziwa ja 😂 Ale Ty też mnie okłamałeś - why? Daj znać co tam u Ciebie bo kurde noo czasami trochę tęsknię ;)
She's lost in thought. I'm lost in her.
I miss you,And not in a “it’s one in the morning, I’m so lonely, looking through old pictures” kind of way.I miss you,In a “my friends are all laughing, and so am I, but somehow you still haven’t left my mind” kind of way.I miss you,And not in a “someone asked me how you were today and I realized I didn’t know the answer” kind of way.I miss you,In a “nobody has brought you up in months, but I still tell stories about you” kind of way.I miss you,And not in a “it’s Valentine’s Day and I’m alone” kind of way.I miss you,In a “you did well on a test and I want to be the first person you tell” kind of way.I miss you. I don’t just miss the idea of you. I miss you.
excerpt from an unfinished book #59 // “breaking up is hard to do”
I wouldn’t say anything because it isn’t my place anymore. He isn’t mine and he wants it that way.
not to sound bitter but i hope hurting me haunts you for years
But that only happens in movies. Losing people happens in real life.
it's too late and it's too bad.
Just because he was good does not mean he was the best. Just because he was sweet does not mean he was the sweetest. Just because he was funny does not mean he was the funniest. Just because he was smart does not mean he was the smartest. Just because he was kind does not mean he was the kindest.
So when he left her, she began to write. She wrote until her fingers couldn’t hold a pen anymore, she wrote until her heart didn’t feel like it was breaking.
He loved poetry. It was ironic, it was tragic. Little did he know, he had always been poetry to her.
dziwi się, że go mocno polubiłam? po tym wszystkim? Po tym jak bywał dla mnie największym i najczulszym słodziakiem, jakiego spotkałam w zyciu. Po tym jak sam zaczynał mnie całować u siebie w mieszkaniu i nie moglismy skonczyc?
“It always feels like there’s just one person in this world to love, and then you find somebody else, and it just seems crazy that you were ever worried in the first place.” —Lexie Grey, Grey’s Anatomy.
"There are so many reasons why I should let you go, but every time I glance up at the stars, I know you’re seeing the same exact ones. And, in some sick way, it gives me the idea that maybe you’ll see my name written against the sky and you’ll start to miss me like the Moon misses the Sun on the darkest, winter nights."
Yeah, I thought about you for the first time in a while today. I thought about how you were wrong about me, and so was I.
"And that’s when I know it’s over. As soon as you start thinking about the beginning, it’s the end."
i’m full of love but i’m not soft anymore
It's been a year, do you still think he misses me?
I can’t promise you that he misses you. But I bet h
If anyone asked why she dyed her hair brown, she would say, “It was time for a change.”
She would never tell anyone the real reason. It reminds her of his eyes.
You’ll finally be okay again.
But then, one morning, he will text you out of the blue. And your heart will smile, because God, you’ve missed him. You will be willing to ignore how much he hurt you. You will start to imagine what a future with a second chance for the two of you looks like. And then he will disappear again. It will hurt.
However, even after that, you will finally be okay.
But then, he will walk into the restaurant that you work at, and he’ll meet your eyes just long enough for you to see him looking away. Your heart will drop into your stomach, and the pitcher of water you’re holding will shake with the trembling of your hands. You will have to run to the back so he doesn’t see you crying.
However, even after that, you will finally be okay.
But then, you’ll see him on campus, wearing the shirt you bought him for his birthday. He will look so handsome. He will look like home. But he isn’t, and he is walking with another girl, and you feel like your throat is closing up on you. You won’t be able to breathe. Who is she? It will burn and ache. It will consume your thoughts.
However, even after that, you will finally be okay.
But he will still show up, time and time again. Almost as if he knows when you are letting him go again. Almost as if every time you are finally okay, he makes sure you can’t be. Not just yet.
It’s the cycle of heartbreak, dear. And no one said it was fair.
""It sucks that we miss people like that. You think you’ve accepted that someone is out of your life, that you’ve grieved and it’s over, and then bam. One little thing, and you feel like you’ve lost that person all over again."
what a privilege it was to matter to you.
Don’t hate him.
Even for being the first to tell you that he would never leave, and then leaving.
Don’t hate him.
Even for being the only thing you can think of on slow days when you’re wondering where it all went wrong.
Don’t hate him.
Even for the indifference you feel toward every other guy who comes along in the wake of his absence.
Don’t hate him.
Even for taking away parts of you that were meant for someone else; someone permanent.
Don’t hate him.
Even for moving on. Even for finding a new girl that makes him much, much happier. Even for not loving you then like he will love her now. Even for being your breaking point. Even for killing every inch of your happiness.
Do. Not. Hate. Him.
Hating someone will make them important. He deserves to be obsolete.
i wanna feel how dogs feel when you let them go in a big field
yes hello id like to buy this painting!! its just so beautiful. ive fallen in love and i have to have it. how much is it??? wait. what do you mean thats a mirror
when i say “the other day” i could mean yesterday or 5 years ago there’s no in between
be the person your dog thinks you are
oh my god? why not “oh our god”, you selfish prick? unfollowed and blocked
*throws lamp at you* you need to lighten the fuck up
dropping out of school to become part of a chicken nugget cult
"I’m a little different now because of you."
"She surrounded herself with boys who didn’t matter, trying to forget the one who did."
After a while, you’ll start to feel silly.
For still missing them;
For still listening to ‘your song’;
For still reading old letters;
For still looking at old pictures;
For still hoping you’ll run into them;
For still crying sometimes;
For still wanting them to come back.
And when you start to feel silly, you’ll get paranoid that everyone else thinks you look that way. But I hope you know that you don’t. I want you to know that there is nothing to be ashamed of. You loved someone with all of your heart, and it will take however long it takes for it to grow back completely again.
Take your time.
ust before you begin to read old messages, you will regret it and know it’s a bad thing to do. It will burn your heart, but you think you’ll be fine and can handle it. When you finally have courage to do it, it makes you re-live that exact moment of each text, having each thought, emotion and feeling, when the conversation was taking place. It’s a burst of fresh air; happiness and hope, you begin to forget it’s the past and think what you’re reading is the current.
Then it hits you.
Those messages are just bittersweet memories. They’re moments in your life, when you were at your happiest. You haven’t felt that happy since and you want to feel it again. You want that person to be exactly how they were. You want everything between you and them to be how it was. But you realise it can never be the same.
You keep those messages just to feel like you’re loved and wanted, from that person, one last time; even if it’s for a split second.
They will forever be memories.
want you to know that I am most definitely over you. I am so over us. I go about my day without you and I am completely fine. Always.
Except…sometimes.
Because sometimes I’m sitting with my friends at lunch, and there is no reason to think of you, but I do. Sometimes I accidentally mention your name in our conversations.
Sometimes I still look at our old videos on my laptop. Sometimes I miss dancing with you in the kitchen to our favorite songs.
Sometimes I remember how it felt when you first told me you loved me. Sometimes it still takes my breath away.
Sometimes I pull out our memory box. Sometimes I reread the letters you wrote me. Sometimes I still look through all of our pictures.
Sometimes I still cry.
Sometimes I still write about you.
Sometimes I still care.
Sometimes I still love you.
Sometimes is most times.
Most times is always.
"You know those moments when you just miss them? You go looking for a picture or maybe even a text message you forgot to delete. Just to remind yourself that at one point you did matter to them. That it wasn’t all a lie. That for even just a moment you were all they thought about."
It ends or it doesn’t. That’s what you say. That’s how you get through it. The tunnel, the night, the pain, the love. It ends or it doesn’t. If the sun never comes up, you find a way to live without it. If they don’t come back, you sleep in the middle of the bed, learn how to make enough coffee for yourself alone.
i’m never going to tell you. i’m just
going to write books and more books
and eventually you’re going to hold
all of them in your hands and say,
ahh, i understand.
going to write books and more books
and eventually you’re going to hold
all of them in your hands and say,
ahh, i understand.
money can’t buy happiness but it can buy a false sense of security and fruity alcoholic beverages to numb the pain and honestly what’s the difference
we live in a world where pizza gets to your house before the police.
LEAVE PEOPLE BETTER THAN YOU FOUND THEM
You know what sucks? How people just use people. I was innocent. I was naive, wide-eyed, and ready to fall in love with my whole heart. And then I met a boy. He was not innocent. He was not naive, he was not wide-eyed, and he had already fallen in love with his whole heart. He was broken.
So I fixed him. I loved him and loved him until I had no love left for myself. And when he realized I had helped make him whole, I was no longer needed. So he left.
And now I am a broken girl, in search of a whole boy, who I can break, so that I can be whole again.
Yes, I think to myself, tonight is a night where I would have called you.
But you’re not here anymore.
Perhaps you never will be again.
And I waited.
"Losing him made me lose myself, but it was beautiful. The process of recovering—it was stunning. I didn’t know how to be the girl I used to be, so I found myself again. I rediscovered myself as who I wanted to be from now on. I decided that I wanted to be stronger. I wanted to be kinder. I wanted to be the one who made everyone feel like someone. So I smiled at strangers. I asked people how they were. Maybe I lost him, but I bettered myself, and that’s the best thing that ever could’ve happened to me."
"I met a boy. He’s sweet, but so were you in the beginning–and it scares me. It terrifies me."
"I noticed his eyes instantly the first time I met him, they were a beautiful blue that got brighter and brighter every time he saw me. I was so in love with this boy, and he was with me. Until one day I noticed that his eyes didn’t light up the way they did when I was around and it kept on happening, and then I realized that I had lost him, he was no longer in love with me."
you can either sing what makes you beautiful at the top of your lungs with me or you can get your ass out of my car and walk
Photograph - Ed Sheeran
it’s been months since i’ve last seen you, but i’m still up all night listening to love songs hoping one day we’ll meet again
maybe life isn’t about counting all the mistakes you made. maybe it’s about increasing the number of important things in it instead.
https://www.zaadoptujfaceta.pl/profile/2340401
http://thechalkboardmag.com/pretty-breakfast-recipes-brunchhttp://helloglow.co/8-sinus-infection-remedies/
http://hbfit.com/5-skin-tips-that-are-way-smarter-than-popping-that-pimple-right-now/
http://hbfit.com/the-4-things-youre-doing-that-are-secretly-damaging-your-hair/
http://thechalkboardmag.com/9-tips-more-energy
http://thechalkboardmag.com/how-to-highlight-makeup-artist-best
http://thechalkboardmag.com/healthy-snacks-for-work-nutritionist
http://thechalkboardmag.com/best-skin-ever-functional-medicine-skincare
http://thechalkboardmag.com/guide-to-matcha-in-nyc
http://helloglow.co/easy-ingredient-combos-to-upgrade-toast/
http://helloglow.co/an-experiment-in-being-a-morning-person/
http://helloglow.co/metabolism-boosting-smoothie/
http://helloglow.co/9-simple-ways-to-beat-cravings/
http://www.foodnetwork.com/healthy/packages/healthy-every-week/healthy-tips/12-foods-nutritionists-won-t-eat.html?oc=PTNR-the_chalkboard_mag-pubexchange_module
http://www.remodelista.com/ wnętrza!
Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose, or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.
Otaczam się facetami, którzy nie mają żadnego znaczenia, tylko po to, żeby zapomnieć o tym, który miał.
"She surrounded herself with boys who didn’t matter, trying to forget the one who did."
Nigdy Ci tego nie powiem wprost. Będę po prostu pisała, pisała i pisała, robiła zdjęcia, malowała, rysowała, tworzyła i pewnego dnia będziesz trzymał w dłoniach wszystkie moje prace, wszystkie rysunki, wszystkie wydane albumy, kilka moich książek i wtedy powiesz "Cholera, teraz wszystko rozumiem. I rozumiem co czułaś"
Poznałam kogoś. Pożycza mi parasol, życzy dobrej nocy, częstuje winem,odprowadza mnie zawsze na przystanek, każe napisać kiedy dotrę do domu, a kiedy nie piszę, sam kilkukrotnie pyta, Przeraża mnie. Wzbudza we mnie irracjonalny strach, którego podłoże teraz już rozumiem - Ty też kiedyś, na samym początku taki byłeś.
Czasami mam wrażenie, że w mojej głowie istniały trzy światy. Jeden istniał od zawsze, zanim się pojawiłeś. Był cichy, spokojny, przepełniony codziennym życiem. Drugi pojawił się niczym supernova w momencie kiedy linie naszych żyć się skrzyżowały. Trzeci zrodził się i uderzył o skorupę i atmosferę drugiego w momencie kiedy postanowiłeś zniknąć.
I od kiedy odszedłeś, codziennie próbuję żyć w każdym z tych światów równolegle, choć gubię się, i jestem nieobecna w każdym z nich. Czasami mam wrażenie, że żaden z nich już nie istnieje.
Co się dzieje z niewypowiedzianymi słowami? Czasami odnoszę wrażenie, że słowa, które nigdy nie wypełzły z moich ust żyją w nich i są głośniejsze od tych wypowiedzianych.
Nasz ostatni, pożegnaly pocałunek trwał całymi miesiącami. Trzymałam rękę na Twoich barkach przez te wszystkie noce, choć pewnie jej nie czułeś. Szeptałam "żegnaj, ale nie odchodź" aż zabrakło mi tchu, struny głosowe uschły, a krtań zamieniła się w pustynię. Codziennie próbowałam oderwać swoje usta od Twoich i schować ręce do kieszeni jeansów, ale zawsze miałam na sobie sukienkę. Księga rekordów Guinessa podaje, że najdłuższy pocałunek trwał. Zawsze zastanawiałam się jak ci ludzie tego dokonali, w jaki sposób się nie udusili, nie zakrztusili śliną. Teraz już wiem, że to trudna sztuka. Nawet kiedy podczas niego twarze zamiast dwóch milimetrów dzieli 5 kilometrów.
Kochałam jeziora, ale znalazłeś mnie na dnie oceanu.
Zawinęłam moje serce w podwójną folię bąbelkową, z nadzieją, że to uchroni je przed kolejnym złamaniem. Pobawiłeś się nią, po czym upuściłeś pakunek z trzydziestego piętra wieżowca.
Kochałam Cię tak jak Puchatek kochał miód. Zbyt konsumpcyjnie, za bardzo. Za mocno, aby to mogło być zdrowe.
Strata zawsze boli, niezależnie od tego co tracimy. Może to nie samo utracenie czegoś powoduje największy ból, ale przywiązanie, które już się zrodziło. Może to wyobrażenia przyszłości, które nagle skonfrontowane z nową rzeczywistością są skazane na kompletną porażkę.
Jakiś czas temu do mojego domu wkradł się mały pająk - mam arachnofobię, więc nie przywitałam go z otwartymi ramionami, ale nie przeszkadzał mi - wybrał sobie cichutki kąt w kuchni, nikomu nie przeszkadzał, nie przemieszczał się, uplutł ogromną pajenczynę, ale nie budził mojego lęku, bo zawsze był w tym samym miejscu - przewidywalny wróg z czasem przestaje nim być.
Podnieś rękę, jeśli jesteś uzależniona od Facebooka. Możesz już opuścić, aby nie nadwyrężyć mięśni - wiem, że jesteś. No, przynajmniej intuicja mi tak podpowiada.
https://www.zaadoptujfaceta.pl/profile/2356938
wishwishwish.net
http://frame.bloglovin.com/?post=4824782836&blog=833258&frame_type=none
http://frame.bloglovin.com/?post=5136755887&blog=4114434&frame_type=blog_profile
http://www.foreverseptember.co.uk/2016/09/18-things-ive-learnt-over-18-years.html
http://www.mydomaine.com/sex-advice/slide12
http://thesundaychapter.com/2015/10/3-tricks-to-instantly-calm-your-nerves/
https://www.etsy.com/shop/Congostudio
http://www.iffoundmake.com/
https://www.etsy.com/listing/221367045/i-just-want-pizza-beanie?ref=shop_home_feat_3
https://www.etsy.com/listing/459192266/who-needs-a-boyfriend-single-ladies?ref=shop_home_active_10
https://www.etsy.com/listing/228725962/beard-man-shirt-this-girl-is-taken?ref=shop_home_active_24
https://www.etsy.com/listing/200935119/bicycling-tshirt-mens-womens-bicycle-t?ref=shop_home_active_69
https://www.etsy.com/listing/201407026/blonde-t-shirt-blondes-have-more-fun?ref=shop_home_active_3
https://www.etsy.com/listing/199561600/blogger-t-shirt-i-dont-need-a-job-i-run?ref=shop_home_active_35
https://www.etsy.com/listing/222880474/tattoo-womens-t-shirt-sorry-i-only-like?ref=shop_home_active_58
https://www.etsy.com/listing/223484243/blogger-t-shirt-born-to-blog-fashion?ref=shop_home_active_89
http://earlgreycreative.com/blog
http://frame.bloglovin.com/?post=4738041935&blog=4885741&frame_type=none
http://heleneinbetween.com/blogging-resources !!!!!!!!!!!
https://www.bloglovin.com/blogs/blog-market-13284353
https://www.bloglovin.com/blogs/blogelina-3261630
https://www.bloglovin.com/blogs/pinkpot-11805513
http://queenofjetlags.com/2016/02/17/blogtips-5-things-worth-investing-in-to-take-your-blog-to-a-higher-level/
http://queenofjetlags.com/2015/05/20/how-to-travel-as-blogger/
http://queenofjetlags.com/2015/04/22/how-to-get-in-touch-with-pr-agencies/
RSTYLE
afterlight
No więc generalnie napisałam coś bardzo infantylnego - ale czasami w słusznej sprawie trzeba uciec do dziwnych sposobów. Mądra blondynka wie kiedy udawać głupszą
No i jeszcze w nocy rozmawialiśmy, chociaż już pisałam od rzeczy, bo miałam gorączkę. I generalnie... teraz jestem prawie pewna, że nie jest gejem, ani nawet nie jest bi. Zadałam mu miliony pytan. Na część odpowiedział, część olał. Takie psychologiczne, skąd się wziął ten strach, skąd się bierze jego odrzucanie przyjaciół, jak działa jego psychika, bla, bla.
Napisał mi, że chciałby mieć przyjaciół i bliskie osoby, ale chyba nie potrafi UTRZYMYWAĆ na dłuższą metę bliskich relacji. Że bardzo chciałby, ale rozpoczynanie znajomości idzie mu lepiej, niż kontynuacja. Że bardzo chciałby, aby było inaczej i aby posiadał tę umiejętność, ale już tak ma, że teraz nie potrafi.
Powiedział, że to pewnie przez jego trudne dorastanie i sprawy rodzinne, albo przez to, że był zaręczony. Kochał ją, a ona zerwała zaręczyny i wielokrotnie go zdradziła :o I bardzo go tym zraniła.
Aż mi było głupio, że drążyłam temat. No i powiedział, że boi się, że jakaś dziewczyna się w nim zakocha, a on ją zrani. I odsunął się ode mnie, bo widział, że z czasem coraz bardziej mi zależy, a na początku tego nie widział. I zaczął się bać, że jeśli będziemy za blisko, to to będzie nieuniknione.
Trochę mi smutno, bo to znaczy, że komuś pozwoli się w sobie zakochać i pewnie odwzajemni to uczucie, tylko po prostu nie ze mną. Ale skoro był długi czas kiedy było między nami super i był dla mnie bardzo czuły, nie tylko w seksualny sposob, to to chyba znaczy, że jednak mu się podobałam? :(
http://www.wallis.co.uk/webapp/wcs/stores/servlet/ProductDisplay?searchTermScope=3&searchType=ALL&viewAllFlag=false&CE3_ENDECA_PRODUCT_ROLLUP_ENABLED=N&catalogId=33058&productOnlyCount=1&sort_field=Relevance&storeId=12557&qubitRefinements=siteId%3DWallisUK&langId=-1&beginIndex=1&productId=25747655&pageSize=20&defaultGridLayout=3&searchTerm=WL310565133&productIdentifierproduct=product&DM_PersistentCookieCreated=true&searchTermOperator=LIKE&x=25&geoip=search&y=11
I guess the important thing is to choose the things you really want. The choices we make run like currents through our lives, flooding the days we have right here, right now. Who do you want to spend your time with? Where do you truly want to live? Do you prefer the snow or the sunshine? What makes you giddy happy? And money, how would you like to make it? And the hours you have just for yourself, what will you do? Will you travel or read or paint or learn a language? Do you like dogs, would you like a pet? What kind of partner are you looking for; and friends, what traits do you want them to have? Oh the things! There are so many things, so so many things to choose from on this great big world we live on. And the sun beats from above and then goes down, seasons shift and the months undulate from one to the next and between all these markings of time lie choices in a wildly unlimited supply. Isn’t that exhilarating? Doesn’t it make you want to go sit solitary and seriously think about your things for your life? I hope so. In the same way you would between the grey or black sweater at a store. You need to frown in frustration because the choice is always hard and then; panic momentarily before choosing whichever you prefer. And there will be many times you’ll find yourself wedged between all these countless whichevers and whatevers that enrich your life. And hold on, wait a minute, have you ever just sat and marveled at all the ways you could go? Right in front of you are a series of options, spinning and they won’t stop spinning until your heart stops beating. That is incredible. We are so lucky. But abundance has its disadvantage too in that it requires decision. I hope you make these all the time, I hope you sit and reflect and collect choices that channel your life down the right current. There are so many things and most importantly, you deserve so many things, so so many things. I hope you never forget that.
I go through phrases of vivid dreams, and these days, with my bedroom windows wide open, I wake up to them standing straight over my bed. Sometimes they soak right into my pillows and my eyes open sad. But above all, strangely, I can remember them in the same way I could describe yesterday. By lunchtime, I cannot decipher what happened and what didn’t, checking my phone for texts I received in my sleep, wondering about words never really said and so on. Or there I will be, walking down the street, music blaring through my ears and an emotion will come ; a swirl of a response to an event I thought occurred some time ago but it didn’t, only in my head while I was in bed. How strange, it challenges my mental balance and leaves me swirling between what’s real and what I only dreamt. With time, they wash away, to be replaced with a new wave of imagined realities that feel as real as my hands. I cannot help but blame the full moon, a cycle I feel in my own body, which sounds quite crazy, I know. But a full moon supercharges me, I have wild energy, even when I am asleep, it seems. I’ve been writing a lot, planting pages of words I hope will grow into something one day, but who knows. Until then, here I am, existing, breathing in these almost summer days, hopeful for this weekend and wondering about the world, or more aptly, this tiny little world I clutch at and call my own. It’s a lovely thing isn’t it? Our little worlds, we all have one, tucked inside this great big globe.
I hope you do one thing everyday that makes you feel great. It sounds silly but its sincere all the same. Even the most frivolous of pursuits are important if they make you happy, I hope you know that. Never ever be ashamed of the ways you seek out joy in what can so often be a mundane day. As for me? I must run and sweat to feel at ease. I also like lying on my grey parquet floors with all the windows flung open and sometimes, I like to drink black coffee at midnight so I can stay up too late and write. Curling my hair makes me happy. Nude lipsticks and too much bronzer applied cross legged over coffee is how I prefer to spend the early morning. My little dog Biba spinning in excited circles every time I open the front door is an incredible joy. There are so many silly simple things all around me that make me smile and so often I find myself looking right past them and into the shadows of an emotion I should let go of. For a long while now I’ve been sad, even prior to my relationship ending – the sadness developed into boredom which had me tossing and turning into restlessness, and inside those emotions I spiraled and got carried away. I too often overindulge my melancholy, I always have, even as a child, I was inexplicably yet profoundly sad sometimes. Sadness, as a sentiment, is a complicated one, layered like a mille-feuille and easy to exaggerate. Perhaps its this intense, promise-of-a-soon-summer-sunshine that has evaporated all my gloom away or maybe I just grew an inch or two in emotional strength and found my way out. But I’m happy and even happier to be able to express that here. When I look back on emotive patterns and the times in my life I was most content, they are the eras of when I was alone, without a man and lacking the burden of love. I like too much to be alone, which is an uncomfortable truth of mine. Perhaps I’m not mature enough to commit to one person, perhaps I’m overly independent or maybe I’ve not met the right man. Potentially, I’ve devoured too many feminist books but it riles me when men tell me what to do, and they all always do. Or at least the ones I’ve known. But above all, I believe I’m a tough woman to love, really. I’m too much of all the things I love about myself and too little of the things I pride myself on not being. And I’m okay with that, genuinely. I want to live all over this globe, I will never ask a man for money, I will always put myself first. I love my job and that’s a priority, always. My dreams don’t shrink but seem to only expand. I’m not even entirely sure I could share a house with a man and the idea of a husband mostly makes me shudder. And the thing is, when men first meet me? They quite like me but slowly, with time, the traits that captivated them begin to irritate them. I mean that in the most modest way possible, I also mean that in that I am the least needy person in the world and most men I’ve met are looking for a girl to mould not a woman clutching at the entire world. Obviously, like all of us, I am hopeful for love but all the love I have so far known has brought nothing but a big old ache. And that’s why I discarded the sadness, because here are all these things, all around me that guarantee happiness – I am focusing on those and forgetting love for now. And it’s absolutely, fucking, liberating, believe me to realize its hard for me to love and its hard for a man to love me. There was a good reason for me choosing to be single for an entire year. So here’s to me and here’s to you, maybe you’ve met the most perfect man, I still believe they exist or perhaps you are like me, either way; I hope you do one thing everyday that makes you feel great. You owe that to yourself, you owe it to life, because with or without the love of a man, we as women have a life. Never ever forget that. Never stop enjoying all the silly things that make you smile, they are a habit crucial to your happiness.
I wtedy zrozumiałam, że to oznacza, że nadchodzi czas pożegnania. A jesteś jedną z tych osób, z którymi nie będę potrafiła się pożegnać. Zmieniłeś moje życie, wpłynąłeś na to, kim teraz jestem. Zmieniłeś mój punkt widzenia, moją percepcję, moją wizję świata. Miałeś odwagę wchodzić swoimi śnieżnobiałymi trampkami do mojej historii, do mojego życia, a kiedy tylko lekko się zabrudziły postanowiłeś wyjść?
Living a positive life’ is a thematically prominent topic online, a subject full of vague quips and vapid advice, typically in the form of recycled, overused quotes alongside what I can only describe as loose, laughable list of ideals to live happily, forever. And you know what? It all spins me into nausea. I even once saw an article asserting that cleaning dishes after every meal instead of waiting for them to pile up was a sure way to live more positively. Or facials or smart shopping or travelling or waking up the crack of dawn or whatever else, everyone everywhere seems to be shoving their idea of ‘how to be happy’ down my throat and I am so tired of it. In fact, most days, I mutter ‘can you fuck off, please’ to almost everything I read. Why is the internet so obsessed with happiness? Why do we as participants here on the worldwide web feel compelled to broadcast just how incredibly, amazingly happy we are all the time? And if we aren’t? There is a buzzfeed article or blog post with a list we can skim to make sure we too can be euphoric like everyone else seems to be. I am all for encouraging joy but that is defined personally and very intimately, an emotionally empty list is not the way to a positive life. It just isn’t that easy, the good things in life are never a click away. And what makes one pretty blogger or some journalist happy might make you as a person, miserable. Which brings me to another point I want to make, what about sadness? Why has this undeniable emotion been so shunned on the internet? We have forced it out and now it lies in the shadows of our lives, the parts we don’t share online. Happiness and sadness are both beautiful components of life, one cannot exist without the other. Carl Jung said, ‘The word ‘happiness’ would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness’. I say we should aim for fair and honest representations of both sentiments when we broadcast our lives across the internet. I want genuine oscillations between the two, that change with the day but are real in that they reflect how we as humans truly feel. I’m tired of the online world pretending to be jumping for joy all the goddamn time. It just makes everyone else feel lonely, left out and inferior. And it is this internet error that prompted me to speak truthfully here, 2 years ago I made a pact to dig a little deeper and share the myriad of emotions I feel as I grow up and move around this earth. Happiness so often is a fight in life and there is no strength to be found in some list to follow, just like there is no strength in pretending sadness doesn’t exist. We struggle, we fall, we stumble, there are good times and there are bad times and yes, we should all aim for a positive life but not by bluffing and denying melancholy away. One emotion cannot exist without the other, concealing one renders the other meaningless. If you are sad, say it and if you are happy, say that too. I promise your life will become richer if you express your entire spectrum of emotions. This is why I write the way I do, I’m honest, I complain, sometimes I’m so sad I can barely see straight, but it narrows the distance between me and you. I want internet intimacy. Because ultimately, I know you feel all the ways I do. We all do.
I have so much to say, and instead of typing it here, I have been jotting it all down in the journal I promised I keep for 2016. I will transfer over some of my thoughts there, here, I promise. But, funny how when I really, really have something to say, I go quiet. I feel like words are falling short, which I would never otherwise claim, letters and their power together is a passion of mine, as you know. But recently, they feel small and not sufficient. As for life updates? I suppose I have few. Such as my first ever VLOG, which I am trying so hard to get up on youtube. Filming my everyday life so far has taught me some things; primarily, that my everyday life isn’t interesting at all. But also, that I am a huge weirdo with a life lacking plot and routine. And my American accent carries itself heavy and too loud in video format. But oh well, I long ago vowed for everything I produce online to reflect me authentically, so I won’t apologize for all these lessons learnt. What else? I’ve been drinking a lot of coffee, as usual. Buying shoes and books online, as usual. Dripping on the treadmill, clocking my kilometres smugly like a savings account, as usual. I have been collecting facials and pedicures and beauty salon appointments like a princess, not a usual in my life but a lovely thing to have the time and money for. I’ve been dancing with Biba to this song in my apartment, where I am spending less time because I met a man I like enough to spend almost the entire weekend with. Yes, can you believe that? No second date dodging, no vague male-aimed instagram rants, no eye rolls when a text beeps on my phone. I actually text him back every time. I don’t shift in discomfort when he tries to hold my hand. And, we’ve been on enough dates for me to probably safely assume he isn’t a horrible person. Not the most romantic line I know, but we women tend to sweep ourselves into people like wind. I believe in playing it safe, my feet are firmly on the floor and I keep the wind in my heart down to a barely there breeze. Usually this tactic is quite easy because most of the men I meet irritate me. But he’s not irritating at all, with the exception of the fact he’s a very handsome distraction, yes that is irritating, in a small wonderful way, I guess. We will see, and ofcourse I’ll keep you updated. I always do. While my life might not be interesting, I have no idea what I would do with my days if I couldn’t share it all with you. And while my interest in men is a mild breeze, my adoration for you is indeed a crazy wind. It always has been. I am always here, virtually, digitally, cyber-holding your hand. Always. And if you texted me? I would always text you back. I wouldn’t even wait to make it seem like I was ‘busier’ and ‘cooler’ than I was. Like I said babe, me and you? We are a wild wind.
Another day, another squeeze into a pair of high waisted jeans to wear through the sunshine down Paseo de Gracia where we prefer to shoot. Another day in a series of many days now that come and go and I go home to bed and think how lucky I am to be here. I remember a few years ago, I’d come to see my brothers in Barcelona, jumping a flight from Paris with a suitcase filled with stories from the city I believed to be the best in the world. I’d wander around the same streets I do now but with different eyes, smugly wondering why my siblings chose here instead of where I lived. Some of my friends, they are and always were meant to be Paris lifers, they carved and dug their way to a forever home in the city in a way I couldn’t muster. It’s a hard place to live France, as an expat especially and being a fickle girl I got tired, sighed and in two days at the end of of 2013, I packed up my tiny room in Pigalle and returned to Spain. Now that’s not to say I don’t love Paris, oh I do and I always, always will. I threw roots down that keep me close enough to call it a second home. But Barcelona, I feel safe here. I can speak Spanish, the men don’t wear those strange skinny scarves and the sunshine, yes it shines almost all the time. I am so happy to be here. I like the 1 euro coffees at the weird corner cafes, the faces I now call friends and the house I carefully curated where everything is white and grey and pretty. The beach is here and with it runs through the sand on Sundays and we are all excited for summer over here, when the city really becomes what it is. My world doesn’t fall apart on a weekly basis like it did in Paris, there is a balance and less partying and I feel like this could be home for a good while. I’m surprised by how much I adore it here and I never would have known if I hadn’t just packed up and moved. I hope you feel this way about the place you call home and if you don’t, I hope you can collect enough courage in your bones to move. I will always move. There are so many places I want to see for longer than a few days. I want to soak them up and I want them to become part of who I am. It’s a beautiful way to grow. My boyfriend went to get a haircut the other day, the same man has been cutting his hair since he was 4 years old. I cannot even imagine that sort of stability in my life. It felt so alien to me. In a way it must be wonderfully nice. To have a home like that and all the people around in both the big and small ways. I have never had that, there is no true attachment to one sole place for me. I don’t think there ever will be. It can get a little lonely always being the outsider, the newcomer, the strange-too-enthusiastic American in the glasses. But it’s all I’ve ever known; embracing new cultures and finding ways to call them my own. My father was the son of a diplomat; he moved incessantly his entire life. It seemed to stick and he raised me in quite the same way. So here I am, a nomad. I search out a corner I like, find a roof and stick around until my soul says its time to go. But Barcelona feels like home in ways I never thought it could, but then again that’s for now. I cannot say how I’ll feel in a year or even 3 months from now. I believed I’d live in Paris forever, but that’s the thing with love, it blinds us into the belief of permanence. And I’ve fallen in love with more places than I ever have men. I think it’s important to place importance on this love, a love for the place we exist. And, as I said, if the love isn’t there, I hope you leave. I hope you move on and find yourself somewhere entirely new. I hope you find a house you think is pretty and find new faces to call friends and enjoy a different kind of weather and new sorts of food. It’s a beautiful thing to wander and go from lost to found and back again and all over and everywhere you ever wanted to go across this entire big Earth. So for now, Barcelona, but later, who knows? I have infinite courage in my bones to move. I hope you do too, but only if you want to. Some of us, we stick to certain places, but you see, I just have none of this glue, so I’ll always move.
Believe it or not, and I won’t blame you if you don’t, but I really don’t enjoy talking about myself. Books I’ve read or the people I love or comical situations I find myself in, yes these sorts of things I enjoy sharing. Otherwise, I don’t really offer information up about myself unless specifically asked. Now perhaps this is because I have this wonderful outlet right here, where I wander and ramble about all sides of myself but also, I simply find other people far more intriguing. Sure, I’ll call my parents or closest friends and spill every tiny insight into my life but at a party, or around a dinner table with new people, I prefer to listen. And should someone ask me what I do, as a job ; I squirm. I really don’t enjoy explaining it and I especially hate it when they pull out their phone to peek at my instagram right there over dessert or mid glass of wine. And there they’ll be, offering up a stream of compliments in regards to the photos I share online. It can be uncomfortable sharing so much of oneself online and it is a discomfort I will never grow used to. I have my internet life, but I also have my real life, and these do undeniably overlap but I don’t like when one is pulled into the other suddenly and by someone I barely know. That sounds like a complaint but I’m not complaining, it just makes me anxious in a way I can’t really explain. Over the years, I have very much compartmentalized these two components of my life, allowing them to reflect into one another but very strategically keeping them separate, or at least, parallel in a way. I find people that talk too much about themselves to be tedious and so part of my discomfort comes from having a website that solely focuses on me. It makes me uncomfortable at times and I fear it makes me egotistical. I believe I’m prettier online than offline and I know I’m more eloquent via a keyboard than across a table, where I typically swear to much and laugh too loudly. My boyfriend told me the other day that he much preferred the real me to the internet me and it meant so much because while I’m a confident woman, this is precisely the kind of validation I need to hear from time to time. Perhaps it is a doubt that comes from creating a blog and sharing the best words and prettiest photos that exist between the days when nothing happens at all and your hair is a mess and you say fuck more than any other word. Because really? Most of my days are like that, and it can be awkward when you’re at dinner in sneakers and a tank top accidentally dappled in dog hair and a friend of a friend pulls out their phone, and exclaims ; ‘wow, that’s you?!”
Start na Wildzie
Kombinat
Zaczarowany Las
Porażka
Południe
Forno Italia
Parma & Rukola
Jaglana
Lewant
239
Jadalnia
sweet surrender
Fallabar
Niezły Meksyk
Tomasz i Pomidory
Avocado Restaurant
Concordia Taste
Cafe la ruina i raj
Bar Walencja Poznań
JE SUS
salon z ogrodem
słoń
parma & rukola
Czarne mleko
PROJEKT WILSON !!!
słodka & ostra
hygge
magazyn food concept
don't fall in love.
i loved you.
it was fun while it lasted.
it doesn't sound better on vinyl, and it doesn't look better on film.
i'm just trying to find a love that feels as good as buying a new pair of shoes.
always take the stairs.
the difference is in the details.
who cares / who knows.
so much has changed, and so much has stayed the same.
it could be worse.
Mogło być gorzej, ale mogło też być lepiej.
Tyle się zmieniło, a równocześnie tyle pozostało bez zmian.
Mogłeś być bliżej, ale mogłeś też być dalej.
Mogłeś być krócej, ale mogłeś być też dłużej.
Już sama nie wiem co powinno wygrać - wdzięczność czy żal.
Nigdy nie kochaj za mocno
Nie staraj się za bardzo
Nie próbuj za często
Nie poświęcaj się za nadto
Nie całuj za czule
Nie patrz za długo
Nie sięgaj za głęboko.
Strzeż się słowa "za", bo zanim się zorientujesz stanie się za późno, żeby pozbierać porozrzucane odłamki serca.
Nigdy nie oddawaj nikomu ostatniego kawałka tego słodkiego serca
bo kiedy blacha pozostanie pusta
czym nakarmisz swoją głodną duszę?
Sztuka wywodzi się z ciemności i smutku
to z nich się urodziła.
Sztuka jest jedynym bagnem, w którym toniemy
i się na to godzimy
a czasami nawet odczuwamy przyjemność z tego, że nie potrafimy pływać.
Błagałam Cię, żebyś mnie pokochał
Ty w tym czasie byłeś zajęty rozpamiętaniem kogoś kto nie usłyszał Twoich błagań
a mnie błagali ludzie, których nawet nie usłyszałam.
Zatykasz mi uszy, zamykasz oczy
otępiasz zmysły, zaprzątasz umysł
przymykasz dopływ poczytalności,
ale otwierasz serce.
I wchodzisz do niego wykorzystując otwarte na oścież drzwi, niczym do miejskiej jadalni
Cóż mogę Ci zaserwować?
To ironicznie smutne, że moja definicja miłości brzmiała
'jeśli mnie kochasz, nie odchodź'
zaś Twoja 'jeśli mnie kochasz, pozwól mi odejść'.
Po prostu trzymałeś w rękach inny słownik pojęć,
a ja nie zdążyłam skserować dla Ciebie swojego.
try, but don't try too hard.
good morning! it's friday, and i miss you.
inspired by, but never influenced by.
i love you like I miss you.
every girl has a story, and every story is the same. they used to date the devil, and the devil is to blame.
kocham Cię w taki sam sposób w jaki za Tobą tęsknię
tylko czasami
“You believe in miracles?”
“Not today.”
“Not today.”
Brak komentarzy:
Prześlij komentarz