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.
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.
Don’t stop this train—don’t for a minute change the place you’re in.
Don’t get mad. Don’t get even. Get stronger, faster, and more powerful. Fill yourself with
knowledge and empathy and an indomitable spirit because no one else can do that for you.
In the end, it’s your life, your choice, and your world. Give 110%, always.
If I knew that today would be the last time I’d see you, I would hug you tight and pray the Lord be the keeper of your soul. If I knew that this would be the last time you pass through this door, I’d embrace you, kiss you, and call you back for one more. If I knew that this would be the last time I would hear your voice, I’d take hold of each word to be able to hear it over and over again. If I knew this is the last time I see you, I’d tell you I love you, and would not just assume foolishly you know it already.
It’s strange how one picture can bring up so many emotions. I see so much in such a tiny frame—low resolution of course because it was five years ago. I see happiness that explodes off of the page and silliness that makes me laugh even now.
But I keep coming back to love. I see so much love in that picture that it warms my heart and makes it ache all at once.
As sad as this all is, that is still what I cling to—love above all else.
Typewriter Series #730 by Tyler Knott Gregson