Why is it that sometimes when you ask for love, you get tipsy turvy madness instead?

I want someone who thinks about me when I'm not around. Who isn't ashamed to tell me they missed me. Who's not afraid to tell me how they feel. Who backs up "I love you", with "here, let me show you".

I don't care that much what he/she looks like. Beauty is found in ( Read more... )

This flu has totally kicked my ass. I'm going to try a gentle workout this afternoon. I am not dying from aches or a fever anymore, so I think it's worth trying to get back to working out.

Have actually missed it and was feeling pretty frustrated so it's going to be good to get back into it (a whole two days and I'm freakin, lol).

Posted via ( Read more... )

"Smile, breathe and go slowly."
-Thich Nhat Hanh

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Gosh.

I sure know how to hurt myself. :(

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Having a hard time not panicking.

I'm sure everything will work out just fine,
But right now I'm finding it hard to breathe
And my stomach is on fire.

I hope I do ok today.

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Trying to remind myself:

This isn't my deal
It's not worthy of me
It's not mine.

Trying to let go, to stop obsessing
Be consistent and stop being hypocritical.

And stop beating myself up.

Thunderstorms in the lunch room.
Universe. Help me breathe?

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You're all sleeping
And the firework smoke is dissipating
And the cool change came in at about 2am this morning.

I'm in bed, just woken
Lying here, appreciating my new curtains
And listening to the birds outside go mental.

'Wake up!' they say
'It's a brand new day!'
And I think about it.

But my bed is comfy
And whilst I didn't spend the Eve ( Read more... )

There's a guy on my train, looks a little like Heath Ledger, wearing a brown sweater and carrying an old canvas stachel. He has coke bottle glasses, but fashionable square frame ones, and he's reading a book about frogs, occasionally mouthing the words as he reads.

He has gangly hands and excellent "I'm highly absorbed in this book about Frogs" ( Read more... )

Sometime tonight after hours
Of couch and unfulfilling tv
I found myself slumped like a beggar in the very new hours of the day
Listening to old YouTube clips of Anis Mojgani
Slam poet
And as I watch, I imagine writing like him with well planned pauses
and the ability to enunciate like angels.
Old angels, who have been around the block once or twice.
( Read more... )

I remember once, as a child, pulling half of my eyelashes out. I remember making wishes on each of them and the odd fierce joy at the pain of plucking them out.

I had thought it less obvious if I spread the lash plundering out evenly across both eyes and I remember thinking that it would not be noticible.

Unfortunately I was wrong. My eyelids ( Read more... )