I wanna buy a ring. Or like 5. Of The same kind. Should I.
This is so beautiful :’)
I fucking love people who find street-side self-employment to do what they love. When I was in high school, there was a kid in my AP Bio class, really smart and intelligent and loved biology, but he was just so disillusioned with the academic situation in America that he didn’t even want to go to college. Our bio teacher asked him how he was going to find a career in biology without a degree, and he said he’d buy an electrophoresis kit and set it up in a city square and just let people watch the DNA fragments travel through the gel, and set out a hat or whatever to take donations. A biology street-performer. We all laughed, but last summer I was in Boulder, and there was this man on Pearl Street, along with the magicians and harpists and such, and he had a high-powered telescope. You could look through it and see the planets and stars in broad daylight, and he’d point them all out to you and give you a little lesson. He had a hat out and a cardboard sign asking for three dollars to look through the telescope, and he had a line of people. There’s something incredibly inspiring to me about the people who want to do something so badly that they’ll do it on the street if they have to.
I saw a guy giving free compliments, and taking donations on the street. He would wax poetic about the beauty of the people walking by - their hair, their clothing, “the light shines off the blue of your eyes, while the skies of venice weep in shame, to wish they could match a shade so clear and bright.” Dude had class.
No matter what gender or age passed by, he had something kind to say to them.
?"What," men have asked distractedly from the beginning of time, "what on earth do women want?"
I do not know that women, as women, want anything in particular, but as human beings they want, my good men, exactly what you want yourselves: interesting occupation, reasonable freedom for their pleasures, and a sufficient emotional outlet. What form the occupation, the pleasures and the emotion may take, depends entirely upon the individual.?
Dorothy L Sayers, “Are Women Human”, 1938
#there are few questions that vex me more than the Vending Machine Question#you know the one#it has many forms:#’what do women want?’#’what turns women on?’#’how do I impress a woman?’#’what do women prefer A or B?’#well i’ll tell you what i *personally* don’t like you little dipsh*t:#it’s not being asked what particular coin you have to insert in order for whatever you want from me to drop out#this question vexes me on 2 fronts-#not only am I now a vending machine who can be acted upon to ‘insert coin/recieve goods’ but also#me and my mother and my friends and your friends and all our sisters and daughters are THE SAME VENDING MACHINE#the only way this question makes sense to ask on ANY level is if you believe those 2 concepts#like believe them as fact#so if you ask this of me#my nose is gonna crinkle like i can smell what you’re shovelling#and I will KNOW you.#the chances of you coming back into my estimation from the Vending Machine Question are slim#s l i m
dafuq suits season 3 is already [almost] over? i didn’t even know season 2 was out………
So nothing seems to be physiologically wrong with my heart. Doctor seems to think it’s a butt load of emotional stress (adrenaliiiiiiine). May just have been having multiple panic attacks, and someone suggested going to therapy because it’s probably a sign something’s wrong if “emotional stress manifests itself physically.” So basically, all I’ve learned is that I have issues. Lovely.
Today’s cold and I am sleepy. And hungry.
Ugh I have a meeting at 9 PM (who does that?!?), and my partner still has not emailed me. I’m going to shoot someone.
I’ve kissed more “friends” than I care to count (and more friends than I care to admit have seen me naked, but that’s a story for another time).
Some, I’ve come to regret. Others, I wish I had enjoyed more at the time. But if anything, they were all done spontaneously and without much thought.
In retrospect, I wish I took more time and care to give some of these people the kisses they deserved.
It’s really weird saying this because the idea of a kiss has become so sexualized and romanticized. But kisses are so varied in their meanings and uses, much like one can feel love and affection for and from others in a multitude of ways.
They show a great deal of affection, when done right, and expose a lovely spot of vulnerability. And the rush afterward is inexplicable - feeling a deliciously secret message brushed onto the canvas of your very skin.
Kisses from children are the sweetest. They’re willing to trade kisses for anything, the little whores. Glow sticks, yogurt, phones… *guilty* and no, I’m not sexually harassing them… They were on the cheek, for crying out loud. The intentional ones, anyways…
I’m not advocating mass kissing sprees. I’m just reflecting on the nature of kisses and the wonders that should go into a proper one. There are times when I feel so overwhelmed by someone that I have the urge to kiss them. Not necessarily on the lips, of course. Cheek, hand, fingers… to keep this all relatively casual (and PG ;) ). To show appreciation for being wonderful or lovely. Not because I’m head-over-heels in love or because I want to fuck. But just because they’re a wonderful human being in that moment and words fail to contain the outpour of feelz.
Maybe I’m putting too much meaning behind this now. Another one of my random late night rambles.
So maybe I should kiss my friends more. Although I don’t think any of them would take it the right way or even be comfortable with their personal space being so blatantly violated.
Maybe I should violate personal spaces more.
Nah, actually. This is pretty weird coming from me since I’m one of those people that are largely uncomfortable with being touched except by a few exceptional people. Although if those exceptions ever kissed me, I’d be perfectly okay with it. So yeah, that’s what I was getting at. Lulz.
Ariel attempting articulation at 2:34 AM.
I lost my train of thought with this whole post. Should sleep now.. or soon.. or now.. or soon………
Jessica started her nap 3 hours and 20 minutes ago. Okay, it isn’t really a nap anymore. I should probably get into the habit of sleeping at more normal times. Merp.
I think I sprained my wrist or pulled a muscle or something.. I may also be coming down with a cold or something…
Don’t let the bed bugs bite~
Teehee I’m happy.
(Happy makes me wary.)
I don’t want to sleeeeep.
I want to see the world
and learn new things and meet new people.
I want to see all the people I love
And all the people who have kept me in their thoughts
And give them warm hugs and endearing kisses
I want to chase dreams
And get back up
I want to be able to share the world
And all its wonders
I want to be happy
I want to try
I want to live
And as much as that scares me,
I crave it
I need it
I tremble with anticipation.
In the end, if my life can be construed as a piece of art in some way or form, no matter the path I take. Maybe it will be enough. Maybe it will be okay.
When I paid for Jessica’s and my dinner, and as the waiter was walking away with the check, she stood in front of me, befuddled, with her credit card in hand, saying, “But I was gonna pay!”
So I looked her straight in the eyes and said, “Then go! Run after him.”
And she actually did…
Or tried to, more like.
My oldest friendssss: the girl I call my best friend and the boy that wouldn’t take a picture
AKA my favorite people at NIU
Spoiler: there are no nice asses in the hallway. :’(
I’m sitting outside of Jessica’s classroom, 38 minutes into the class, with approximately two hours left to go. Merp.
The Book Thief sits next to me as I casually lean back into this strangely comfortable couch, typing into my gigantic phone and simultaneously killing my phone battery and eating away my data plan as I listen to Jessica’s “Pump Up” playlist (currently listening to Travis Barker’s Get Low remix?? This girl seriously has the strangest, un-nonpleasantly eclectic taste in music).
Mm now it’s Fuego by Pitbull. I approve. I’m strangely fond of him. Yes, more so than Ke$ha, Jessica. -_- (and no, I’m not that fond of her… sigh yearbooks)
Maybe I should make it a resolution to write something everyday. God knows my memory is absolute shit. Defense mechanisms gone wrong, amirite.
I started to write stuff before realizing there was stuff I didn’t want to publish online, so maybe I’ll keep it to my other blog. Haha…
But yesterday was absolutely fun. :3 P-, J-, and I went to Chicago where we met with T- and ate and watched a movie together. P- and T- were absolutely adorablee, with their cute hats and light hearted skips. J- was lovely as always, and that’s all I’ll say for now. Although when it comes to J-, I never really know what to say or where to start.
We watched American Hustle, which was okay. The actors’ and actresses’ performances were phenomenal, but I wasn’t fond of the story and how nothing really seemed to change by the end. And I think something about the portrayal of women bothered me. How the main female roles were centralized on feeling loved. I don’t know whether it’s because of the feminist in me or whether it bothered me because I can’t figure out how true it may be. Meanwhile the men were off doing business and acting stupid…
Mm afterwards, W- picked me up and we left to Dekalb. We had a lovely talk about random things. Although he has his moments of being a bit unnerving, he’s a sweetheart to the core.
And then Jessica happened. And then we slept and when I woke up, I found the bed cold and empty with a smothered, facedown bear.
So I watched Sherlock S3E3. I don’t know what to feel about this season at all. Merp.
And now, I’m sitting here with 10% battery and another hour and a half to go.
Wish me luck, keep me company. I should stop tumblr-ing now and read. Gaah.
On another note, I can’t seem to sleep past 10 AM (7 hours of sleep again) and walking up two flights of stairs leaves me breathless and crazily pulsating. And as erotic as that sounds, no, it’s not fun. Nor healthy, I presume. Haha.
And I have no money. Sigh. Not working sucks but working sucks too. Hrm. Gonna be a broke ass bitch soon.
how do you get over frustration?
So I wrote out a whole response before I got frustrated with myself for feeling pretentious and whatever.
So be more specific. I want to be able to personalize a response for you and give you a human, personal, and conversational response rather than a generic answer. If you’d prefer a private answer, you can ask off anon (and mention you’d like a private response).
Unless you meant me specifically, as in how I myself deal with frustration.
i think i’m going to make another blog with all my reblogged crap. or maybe i’ll make the other one my personal one. idk. my mind’s cluttered.
?I just want to pour my soul out on someone and not have to worry about the mess I’ve made.?
Andrea Slicker (via via-slimshady)