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Arooooooo sweetness.
Happy Freaking Halloween Everyone.
we are all the walking wounded.
Im a birthday pumpkin.
today is my 20th birthday.
i don’t feel older; i feel less stupid but slightly more confused.
i don’t feel taller; i feel more dense, less prickly.
i don’t feel more mature; i feel ridiculous, but fabulous.
happy birthday to me, i like where i’m at in life for now.
i think i should start drawing again. unfortunately, i’m never proud of anything i do. for example, i can find about a million things wrong with this drawing. i kind of approach my entire life like this. i’m ok at a bunch of stuff, but i don’t feel great at anything. it may be because of how self conscious i am. maybe i just won’t let myself be great. i expect so much from myself that i won’t let any of the crap inside me out, so it taints everything i do like oil floating on top of water in a well.
This is a drawing Spicer did of his friend, Steve. Spicer may find a million things wrong (but if it’s art there are few ‘wrongs’ or ‘rights’) in it but yk, it really does look just like Steve. Seriously. It’s not that Spicer doesn’t let himself be great, he just doesn’t acknowledge that he already is pretty great. Personal crap is what fuels creativity; how many people create awesome stuff when they’re perfectly content? i’m sure they’re out there, i just don’t know them. Anyway, I find too many mistakes and flaws in everything i do but i have to celebrate it for the moment until the next bit of growing i do bc otherwise there would be nothing to celebrate.
I do a lot of celebrating for the both of us, but he has this drive to not fail that just amazes me; whether it comes from determination, habit, or fear of failure, i still completely marvel at it because i don’t know what that’s like personally.
I love him so much. I’m fascinated everyday.
:)
idk what it’s like for guys bc i have no penis, but for girls, oh man, when a break up hurts, it HURTS. it doesn’t matter whether you loved that person, or whether you didn’t and were just in like-like, it’s like being in a car accident in slow motion either way. it doesn’t matter if you want that person back, or if you did the breaking up, the only difference is where in the car you’re sitting.
and we always feel like, i showed him part of me that no one else saw, how can we have been so close and he still leaves me? doesn’t love me? doesn’t want me?
and after a while, the pain goes away. sometimes it seeps out, like losing an unattractive bloat; sometimes it disappears quite suddenly, like the POP! of your ears on an airplane, or the deep breath you take after prolonged submergence. “after a while” can mean a lot of things for different girls. i’m one of those kind who probably won’t get over anything until i’m dead, and i’m lucky enough to have found someone i adore early on, that i fully intend to take care of and keep. it doesn’t mean i don’t know the feeling though.
breakups over ego can be just as bad as breakups over love, if you’re immature and confuse the two like i did. seriously. talk about wasting high school.
the only thing better than that POP! feeling of release is finding someone new, falling in love for the first time, or falling in love again when you didn’t think it was possible with someone who takes all of you, sparkling and damaged from your last car wreck; windshield glitter in your hair, irregular heart beat, limp and all.
i’ve thought to myself before, i showed him a side no one else sees. i wasted my secrets on someone who didn’t appreciate them. wasted. now if i fall in love, i won’t have those special things to give to my lover.
and i was wrong, thankfully. i’m young, but back then i was younger, literally a kid. most of my ideas were still squishy and hadn’t become beliefs yet. i realize now that what i had shared was a lot of stuff that just went over his head, that he didn’t comprehend but nodded at because it kept him in the good. and i don’t mean the kind of wierd shit i’m known for that just goes over my boyfriend’s head now, i mean, stupid childish girlish stuff that no 16 year old boy should be concerned with.
perhaps i’m still a bit squishy and green, although, i know more about a relationship now, how it has to start as a friendship, and not just some connection based on social circles and lack of body odor. but, my point is that my secret side is completely different now, even if i don’t really percieve it that way. women are secrets wrapped in skin. i’m not saying that mysteriously or pridefully, like that gives us some crazy sway over men, i’m saying it’s the truth and it’s our downfall unless every few years we stop and look back and realize that we’re works in progress.
i can show spicer my secret side, and it’s all great and fine, and then after two years suddenly realize that so many of my beliefs have changed, my attitudes, my preferences, and yet, he’s a constant. which i have. he’s changed a lot too, and i only love him more. idk how people might have seen us in high school, the only place we had the same social environment, but our relationship is not that and we’re not that and we have nothing to do with that.
girls, let yourself change and don’t underestimate your ability to completely confound him (mostly in a good way, i think :P) when all you want to do is express yourself. don’t hold your breath waiting for the POP! because it’s like Santa in that it only comes when you’re not looking. and don’t feel like you’ve wasted your treasures; by the time you get over it, you’ll have new ones, i promise. :)
as an afterthought, i wrote this from experience, but it doesn’t mean i’m open to having that experience again. i know it’s easier said than done, not looking for the POP! when all you see is your soggy, mascara grey pillowcase. there are some loves that our devotion to takes more than we can regenerate, and when you end up with that one you’ll know. just know that even if it takes years, you’ll get back on the horse. or you’ll die first. i’ll probably die first.
(via theanimalinme)
I really like Brian Morris’ work.
every girl wants to be with a musician because she hopes he’ll write every song about her in the harmony of her daydreams; she wants to be with an artist so that she can find her hidden portrait in every piece, and in the end, she’s in love with something that can’t and won’t happen. artists and musicians don’t believe in themselves, or at least not any i’ve ever met. they need much watering, little sunlight, and you have to sing to them as much as you want them to sing to you. only a couple of songs will be about you since he’s not quite articulate, and he won’t think very highly of them. a few times he’ll paint your portrait, but you won’t recognize yourself as he sees you through your critical female eyes. it’ll have to be explained to you, and he’ll be hesitant to do it, not smooth, not confident, and when you understand, it will shock you into devotion you’re terrified to express, that he cannot believe.
be careful what you wish for.
This album makes me feel very young. It takes me back to a time in my life when I had no real responsibilities and I had my whole life ahead of me. School was easy. Friends were fun. We were young.
I love this album.
Reblog because I feel the exact same way about this album.
tone deaf and spectacular. high school.
