Peace-seeking.

See you back here in about three weeks.

Be calm, cool, and collected. The ushe.

+

Do something you wouldn't.
Do it because you can.


Endless. Be, endless. It's possible.

Also

If you see what I see, then you must see quite some.

It’s those little moments where you’re staring into space and listening to a fading tune that you ought to push your forces on to pen and paper. That’s my perfect setting. No. But seriously, let’s get out of here and make things happen. Hey dreams, guess what? You’ll meet reality.

Time to catch Z’s. Once I pass realm sleep, there’s no going back.

Make it happen for yourself. You need not try, you need not win, but you must feel toward the right and do everything, everything it can take. And more.

Case closed

Where ever I may be, who ever I may be with, and what ever it is I'm doing, I will smile at those who pass by, a friendly gesture of sort. However, some of the time I feel a connection with that being, like a small part of something larger, my day perhaps. I don't know what it is. I'll just continue smiling.

On another note, enjoy.

This guy's got the goods. My hat is tipped to you, sir.

Life is simple

Tip: clean out all the yuck, and see what you've got left.

Eliminate physical clutter.  More importantly, eliminate spiritual clutter. 
Terri Guillemets

"Form is dead"

Via Bru

There's enough air in this room for the two of us.

Too much of a good thing can be a bad thing.

Just the two of us, just the two of us.

If you don't know how to do it,

do it your way.

Secrets

Subtle beauty. Hold your own. Life is beautiful, I repeated today. Life is beautiful, I repeat once more.

The feeling is infinite. I don't want to write about it because I'll be letting go of it; out it will be from my body.

A brief, typed up care free prescription. I'd rather write this in a notebook. Because the sway of my pen on paper beats the hell out of block letters.

A beauty. A day of body facials, cooking, laying out, spiritual conversations, strawberry soup dressed with blueberries and mint leaves and cream cheese cookies for desert. A day of refreshing momentum. New people, touching bases, reading, pajamas, run-ins of old souls, free garage sales and endless free vibes. Of true love. Of movies, tears, and grasping fingertips of holding on. Speaking of which, we watched Letters to Juliet. The way she mapped out the scavenger hunt, I am hopeless romantic and would do something like that-hunt down love, find it, and give it the right scrolled words of, "THE END" and so. She was a writer, as I wish to someday be. You just know. Some things you just know.

We promised we would meet back there in ten years. We shook on it. I promised. I'll be twenty-seven and almost a half.

I like you.

It's right.

This friendship. This bond between the four of us. It was right. 

I like to leave something beautiful behind, for someone else to find. I left a picture note on the back of the survey. A drawn diagram of a beautiful day.

Eye opening. Refreshed. I'm glowing.

We have a goal.

They say, “Actions speak louder than words,” but, words last forever.

I'm inside out. We are the bourgeoise. Being on your mission and in your own moments. It’s captivating.

Nothing else stops you but yourself.

It’s almost like being woken up, but you’re already there, more woken up than ever.

Kick your heels up, let's walk on Cloud 9. So we did.

Not knowing is the beauty, I don't want to write knowing.

Here is an interpret show of my message:

Do you ever want to just change it? I want to let it out. thrown it all up. So I can take it with me, in my mind of having it all figured out. I want to just do my duties, and you can watch. I’m sure the view will be from a high stand. The view will be amazing.

Just do it, do what pleases you and the rest will fall into place.

I’m sure it unlocked the hearts, if not tears, to all that were there. I'm glad to be a part of the opportunity to join the spree of key. Let your heart out. Sob like you mean it.

Maybe it will be found. Maybe it will be heart. Law of attraction. As you wish.

Caution, toss with hope.


Bon voyage.

They say, "Dance to the beat of your own drum."

  But     to     the     pound     of     your     heart    .

If only the indecisive few were decisive as to educating the meaning of “yes” and “no.” If only the ignorant ones were open to possibilities. If only the confirmative ones were true to our being. And we wait, for life to evolve yet again.

Via Artist Eika Dopludo

Un)"If the individual is to be happy in the contemporary order, he must be open-minded with respect to new values and new arrangements."
-Thomas Cochrane


Deux)"The outward freedom that we shall attain will only be in exact proportion to the inward freedom to which we may have grown at a given moment. And if this is a correct view of freedom, our chief energy must be concentrated on achieving reform from within."

--Mahatma Ghandi

Trois)"If you don’t ask ‘Why this?’ often enough, someone will ask, ‘Why you?’."

--- Tom Hirshfield

Check mate

Pre-control mode. My plan. Learned my lesson. No need to drill throats.

It is left unsaid. We all do it, we all think it. If thinking burned calories, I would have died of anorexia.

I wish I could be myself. But we know that this a mere “pit” stop in the road to success. All success has bumps and bruises and blood. What would success mean without any of the three b’s (besides bitch. I thought that could be too controversial, for, I don’t exactly let that roll off my tongue, put great use in it), if not much intensity, much more? Where would the success come from? It would have no meaning, a poise of direction. An infinite posture, a ride, a slogan for some ignorant company swaying the naïve customers.

I want you to decive me. Misunderstand me. So that, I challenge you to understand. To break your laze spree of generous acts being unfaithful. Because you don’t “feel like” doing something, you excuse yourself from the wave of remedies, and of otherwise beginnings. I give you these words because I hope you can interpret them in your own way, relating them in some way, giving you a show, argue with them in some way, defying back ridicule and outsight. Questions. I’ll leave you mind-boggled for now. Until we meet again, I’ve signed off on getting into my head, now that I’ve lured you to achieve your bucket list item.

# 173.“What the hell is she saying?” 

Ingredients

Shine the light on all of your friends

;

don't be a hard head.

Breathe raw

Rely on not oneself, but the heart, however deep it may be.

I’m pretty sure I just got my heart broken. It’s the way you see her, the way you cross your barriers and incomparable sight that just releases blindness to everyone around you, even to the blind. Because it’s you and her, just you and her. Her and you. No one compares. No one can replace. No one could be… worse.

It’s my first college crush. I don’t know why I should even go there. I’m better than this, better than getting distracted by these kinds of things. My mind is broad but so open, empty but not empty; I fill the space with things that can actually blow it. Things that can blow your mind too. Things that you do not believe I have. Things I create. Imagine.

We talked about life, and how wonderful it is. You know, it doesn’t work the same way when you try to give yourself advice. They were kind. I just gave in. But hopefully my little gestures and words of wisdom helped someone. Hopefully. I just want to cry. It is nothing to me. Nothing. It just makes you feel good. And letting out what you’ve been smoking on is a more vibrant, fresh, and tired feeling inside. Interesting dynamic of combination. So reluctant. So critical. So bitter. I tried. But I need not try. I need to just believe in myself and my hardship through days like these. Because we give off energy, the negativity continues to multiply. When you wake up, and put it to an end, realizations are the key to turning it around. A complete 360. You glare at the bad things, the mistakes, but there were the little prices in between, bestowed between. Except, they are microscopic and, let alone, superior. Only, the superior, and strong minds give the reluctant radar, the feeling and vibe, to lure itself that way.

Shoot. Fuck it. Life is wonderful. And all those little things will mean nothing in the long run. Maybe it didn’t have to be said, or thought. Maybe you can just live. Maybe breathing is all that matters. NO. Life has its precious moments, moments of pleasure but yet, bring joy to oneself for a lifetime. And gosh darn it, I am happy. Keep to yourself. They don’t ask, so we don’t tell them. If you respect and treat others maturely, you are more mature than you may see. Forget it. We- I, will not let myself fall into a depression just because some boy does not see me the way I see myself. It’s time to be free, time to let go and say, “Well sir, everything’s great.” Because it is.

Don’t hold back. Give your all. And if you do hold back, just remember to breathe, and be you.

The essence of second guessing and third person intentions are formed, informed. Delinquet phrases and carefully minded serenity. Juice. Juicy juicy stories and utter shy calls. Lots of metaphors and similes. For one, the “smoking” means what I’ve stuck my head in, what I’ve got myself believing. Breathing.   

I feel like I’d have t write this down before anything to get a hold of myself, so I can unspool my brain and unwrap my heart, unclog my soul, and notice that it is only stronger, no wound noticeable, not even inconspicuously. Love is strong. But, what is love? I'll tell you what I do know. It is the last word, shared, independently increased, unsaid, and contagious.

When you’re alone, it’s a different feeling. Well, yeah, we all stand alone whether you have evolved yet or you haven’t. But standing invisibly is like being ignored, cold remarked and secluded. I felt uninvolved, unwanted. In my own world? No. I didn’t share conversation. I was just short sentenced. I was very eager to get out and repress.

I ignored texts, phone calls, small kind acts from them, her, him. You. I reject on such a manly move. I was on the edge. You did not catch me. But I caught myself. I’d like to think that it wasn’t YOU, per say, who I tagged to. It was merely your ways, your sweetness and just a show that allowed me to see the bright light in people. It was your etiquette. I understand. It wasn’t your attraction, although you were handsome.

It could be the fact that I'd put it down before I get a word up. What I'm also saying is that, I'd rather write this all down, the way I feel, before I call my friend back to confess what my bad day has turned into. All is well. Maybe someone's listening here. Maybe my voice is heard.

In “Worn Me Down” by Rachel Yamagata, she whispers. She whispers the line, “She’s so pretty, she’s so damn bright.” She’s beautiful. A face of an angel. The way you carry yourself in her presence. You’re just my muse. Nothing heartly. Nothing healthy or unhealthy. Uninfected. Yet, I’m so intrigued. Maybe I should be a Doctor, because I really want to see what’s in people’s heads. Perhaps I fell a little for your superior prince ways but you’re my story. You’re just my story, my character. It’s easier creating from sctracth, but you were already built, and I cannot exaggerate, give, or take from you. You are you. And that’s all that matters.

See, writing does assist in realizing what the missing piece of the problem is.

Life is wonderful. And it only took me a page of drastic typing to remember that.

I do not need to prove anything to age myself. I am young. You were once young, too. They call me "baby" but I'm sure I could whoop some ass on smarter motives. I don't judge, though.

A lot of the time, when I break sentences, it’s a whole new subject. A lot of the time, it isn’t. But I’ll tell you what. These are all about different people. In the same room. But different causes, all connecting.

Twitting, twirling, whirling.

I began this post feeling like a typical, naive, teenager who thinks about love and the end of the world. I leave, pondering about why I sound that way and how silly and dumbfounded I was. Well not dumb, because we all have lame feelings sometimes. But they are real. I'm stronger. Your heart will never be broken, unless you get shot.

Capture

Have high ambitions and goals. Maintain them. Be impossible.


We must reflect. We must be role models. We must accept and relate. We must control emotional heart. We'll do our thing, our way. I'll see you there.


It may not make sense now, allow time to heal and the little will be possible. The nonsense will be sense.


He said, "Keep a good head and always carry a light bulb."
If it falls apart, only you can put the pieces back together.


Where does your light lie, where does it shine? Is it a person, a broad noun? Do you have a light? Do you believe in optimism? Surely, I'd hope you do! Is it in the sound, the traveling time of limited motion and activity? Where are we, who are we, and what is happening?
Can't tell you why, but you'll know "when."
The 5 W's. The 5 senses call for duty.

Why, yes, I got crabs. Now, save your sanity before you reach a guttered joke. No pun intended. Although, I did go there. So excuse me. By the way, "pamusoro" means excuse me in Shona, a language from Zimbabwe. You learn something new everyday. You're welcome.

Just little crabs searching for its "warm water" in the big sea.

Confined without reason

Talk can be poison. Be the silent, comfortable self you are with the friend(s) you love. Some say it is golden, I say it is: bliss.

Last night I had dinner on the cliff, on the beach. The tide was high and the mist, on my face. I trembled numbly as I wore two coats. It was so damn beautiful. Pelicans crossed the yet to be, black sky, in rows consecutively. So swift. So dreamy. It’s my place to soul cleanse. Peaceful.

I write with no light. I test my blindness and xoxo’s for writing, I trust in being absolute.

We talked about love. She said, “I can’t wait for you to fall in love, I cannot wait for the day.”
I’m a hopeless romantic, yet, I don’t give two squats about relationships. Well, not now at least. I do not “need” someone. I speak for myself, not this generation. Why, of course, there are beautiful people everywhere you bring presence to.  Every single being is wondrous in their own, individual ways. Each mysterious. I speak simply, surreal. Life has so many priorities. Things just happen. I do what I love, what brings happiness and passion, what brings emotion and laughter, with results of learning how to smile, learning the meaning beneath uncovered knowledge, within things we do not speak, which we do not think. Basically, I’m never really looking. I mean, I’m watching. But not staring. That’s just creepy. I'm listening. I’m note taking, in my head. I'm given examples on what not to do, what not to be. Or perhaps I’m writing about you, precisely strangers. The way he gave off energy, the way she doesn’t mind and politely goes her way. She’s just in the moment, focused, and letting be. She’s a business woman.

We didn’t just talk about love, we talked about the universe. And I’ll be damned. I spent my mind at the book store hanging around the Science shelves. Realism, and captured time, and bio and chem and Darwinism and so much more, it will not end. It just won’t. There are too many questions we have to ponder in and out of these cells, only so much to grasp, only so much frustration, only so many years left on our pores of skin. Infinite. Only so many, but more than enough. More than we can conquer. Only one Earth. Only one you. You’ve got a name, child, make it yours.

mmm

Mother Nature: [sigh] Pretty impressive, huh? People tend to think of me as that, uh, environmental nut. But whenever I get down to work they say, 'Mother Nature, you're such a destructive bitch.'

Oh, you know, just going back to '07. I could Never Be Your Woman. Saoirse Ronan is such a doll.

Time

This is all a crumbled up, missing pieces, work of some kind. Work of art. I don’t want to organize, I don’t want to change any of it. I want to keep as it is. If messy, so be it. If perfect, so be it. But nothing is perfect. This isn’t perfect. We are the worst critics, ourselves of our own work. But I just know that these entries will be useful for coming back to later on, I’m just doing it because I know. I don’t know. But I do. You know?


Just, an extra notepad. That will probably drive me to sanity, because I'm already not feeling it. But who's watching anyway? I seriously pull bullshit out of nowhere.
And those are the words.


“Solitude gives birth to the original in us, to beauty unfamiliar and perilous - to poetry. But it also gives birth to the opposite: to the perverse, the illicit, the absurd.”

.64

When the elderly see me, they see it in my eyes. "She is an old soul."




THIS IS AN EXPERIMENT.

Spit now, clean later

I scribble when you are sleeping, and then go over it when I'm not delusional and can think straight. This way, I can.. hopefully.. plunge the words into a definition blender and juice out the meaning. It's like a tester to sample out extra bundles of crumbled journal paper. Yeah, so far it's got some weird flavors-


No man of friendship but a man of egoism.

Not a woman of beauty but one of true bone.

It's easy now. It depends on the view, your perception and accessible compatibility?

She's selective. Obsessively compulsive of being compulsive.

The weight is sinning, bring me down. Bringing me down, down. My head's in the clouds.

Feet off the ground.

Remove your concealer.


What is finer than being true and being you?


Here's a little shout out to what you haven't seen before. This.
I'm fluent in sarcasm, but here lies a more serious note. Perhaps it will evolve into what I want it to be. This is all just an extra notepad to me.


Nothing makes sense at this time of day. I don't even know why I bother, because it just sounds good later on, and when I do come across a situation, it all makes sense. Right now, it's like I'm foreshadowing on my own life experiences. Like music, only the song can understand you. But these words, only the words can speak to you. They are nothing but a dish and dash of textile and ink. They don't look like much. They are mere sounds and views, just like a foreign language.
But how do they make you feel? These words. My soul throwing up on a blank box.


I want to move you.


I'll get there when I get there.

Rise and shine!

Awaking from an afternoon peek of the sun, I'm ready to begin my day. It's new news.


What shall it consist of? Oh, probably sweet melodies and deprecate moves in my room, my tiny but content room.


This isn't a me you may know, this is a me I'll more so shoot up with prediction and be ridiculously witty and maybe a little blunt. Or maybe not. See, I cannot even decide what I want to be. I don't feel absolute and comfortable here quite yet. I'll be honest. I don't know what to fill up these spaces with. Allegedly, I end up attacking with a spoonful of words to make you choke. Oh the irony.

Just like the cinnamon trick, except this is honey, honey. Sweet.

As you please

Dearest Monsieur,

     I drifted away from my keyboard. My eyes have been sulking. Too much studying, research, tabs, music, articles, too many friends, too many prices, too much. Just too much. And not enough air to breathe.

Screw that. Too brief. We’re so fortunate to have options. To have variety, to feel, to care, the diversity and cultures, the academics, the street smarts, the debating moments on what pack of gum we’re going to buy, the flavors, the colors, the beauties. We’re all going to die. We live and let live. The way I see it, we win some, we learn some. We do not win and lose. Hypothetically, we’re challenging ourselves. We want. We get. We earn. We reward. We give and we take. We, again, live and let live. We mind.  We do not rewind, but reminisce. We speak, sing, listen, and practice. We are living indoors, but our head, our head is out on the edge.

     I felt as if there was some force upon my body, bringing me back to fully complete and suck out the righteousness at my fingertips, hardening as I type faster and faster. More quickly as I cannot bear to think another word, because I think through my hands. And all that I have come for. All this way, what way is it that brought me here? Shoot. I really would enjoy a precise meaning empowering my childish ye t mature bickering upstairs-in my brain. Do as you please. I stand tall with a high head, enjoying the breeze. Do not abolish the things you do, but to better them for further cycles which could inspire oneself into a new dish of success.

Switch and shift, extirpate, interpret, relate, understand, and accept. Be open minded. Don’t shut it down.

I run off topic all the time, but it somehow connects. Everything just connects.

“When we practice listening, we become intuitive.”

Listen, hold it, feel it, live and let live.  What quails in and out of your mind?

We try to keep improving for the future of others. We want to give them a life we want to have. But something knocks us down, and lets us… stop. There is relief; we figure it out, growing. That helps improving ourselves, whether it shows, or not.

Realizations are simply the greatest. 'Nuff said.

I sign to you with ease,

Summer

Haha, I don't know.

"Every author, however modest, keeps a most outrageous vanity chained like a madman in the padded cell of his breast."

What is this, prevalent, customarily dream? This thing... contributing to the conformal attempt of ways? The run-of-the-mill, as some call it, the habitual, card-carrying, sanctioned whole of ourselves? Or, is it within ourselves? I'd like not think. Is it really the norm of society? Truly it cannot be. Impossible inputs are somewhat possible. So why do we all do it? Are we doing it, do we actually carry this unlikely yet formal characteristic through our spines?

What is "normal?"

I'd like to think we are all different and the same. Different because we all differ-stating the obvious. But the same, because we all do. Huh, this place is built for us. But then again, are you fit enough?

I write through many forms. I have too many different things to sink upon, rest my mind upon that I've written with style and substance. You'll see.

Allow me to give you a little heads up. A preliminary introduction of some sort. I don't always speak with high vocabulary. I'll dumb it down. I'm a wit. A big wit. I make these things up as I go. But there's so much I would like to share with you, that I already have stored away some place(s). I'm going to let you figure out my interests. We could team up on the mission, because I don't know enough about myself either.

This could be a possible collapse on collaboration with my physically and mental being. This could be a breath of fresh air. This could be nothing. And it just adds chambers of imagination into my simple yet interesting life. Just another umph in my venting tornado and cheesy words of wisdom. Just a bunch of crap out of my mind, stories and beautiful pieces that could bring me closer to balance.

I've been reading blogs for years and years, finally, with guts, I created my own. Alas, I have yet to build this page into something keen and worthy.

Short&Sweet

Don't leave me behind. I'm better off in the wind.

"The sweetness of success erases the bitterness of patience."

Here and there, I'll flow with whatever quenches my mind into a post. I don't know if I'll talk about my day. I don't know if I'll post my outfits. I don't know if I'll... I don't know. I just "do". Simple and complex; complex and simple. Check and mate.

*

     Hello, hello. Why am I here? First and foremost, I endearingly stumbled into this, "blog", if you will, in the midst of sock-searching, deliberately book worming, and homework attempting at a fine time of precisely 1 A.M.

     Without further ado, perhaps you'll throw your feet up, sip your spot of some corny herbal tea on the rocks, and procrastinate while you follow along. Or, perhaps, no one even does that anymore. Or ever.

     Alright, enough babbling nonsense. My swirling 'mind' of quirky unusual phrases are yet to come. And, well, you should stick around for it. Just sayin'.

P.S. I'm completely normal.