Am I stuck here, here in the breath before the budding, the break before the blossoms? There is a Spring inside us, and it wants so badly to explode into life.
Twenty-one. A firm believer that life mirrors nature, and--if we look closely enough--all of the answers we need are right outside our windows.
A lover of Kappa, books, knowledge, music, lyrics, and life.
She understood that the hardest times in life to go through were when you were transitioning from one version of yourself to another.
He may love you. He probably does. He probably thinks about you all the time. But that isn’t what matters. What matters is what he’s doing about it, and what he’s doing about it is nothing. And if he’s doing nothing, you most certainly shouldn’t do anything. You need someone who goes out of their way to make it obvious that they want you in their life.
You have this one life. How do you wanna spend it? Apologizing? Regretting? Questioning? Hating yourself? Dieting? Running after people who don’t see you? Be brave. Believe in yourself. Do what feels good. Take risks. You have this one life. Make yourself proud.
But to evolve you have to dismantle, and that means accepting the idea that nothing you’ve created in the past matters anymore, except that it brought you here. To pick up your new marching orders.
Typewriter Series #768 by Tyler Knott Gregson
There are so many things I want to say. My heart is so heavy with emotion and my head is swimming with thoughts. But sometimes the weight is too much—too much for smiles, too much even for words. I have to hope that, like healing, the words will come easier with time.
So raise a glass to teenage girls for their linguistic innovation. It expands our expressive vocabulary, giving us new words and modes of expression. Speakers may nostalgically look to a previous golden era of English, but the truth is that Shakespeare’s English is an abomination of Chaucer’s English, which is an abomination of Beowolf’s. Language is inherently unstable. It’s in a constant state of flux, made and remade—stretched, altered, broken down and rearranged—by its speakers every day. Rather than a sign of corruption and disorder, this is language in its full vitality—a living, evolving organism.
let’s spend our week nights eating cereal on the floor
when there is a perfectly fine table behind us.
we can go to the movies and sit in the back row
just to make out like kids falling in love for the first time.
we’ll paint the rooms of our house
and get more paint on us than the walls.
we can hold hands and go to parties we end up
ditching to drink wine out of the bottle in the bathtub.
and slow dance with me in our bedroom
with an unmade bed and candles on the nightstand.
let me love you forever.