Everyone is always asking me what my favourite songs/bands/music are so I’ve decided to make a list of my favourite songs of all time in the hopes that people will read and listen.
This is really sweet.
Doesn’t everyone? I’ve always thought that you really knew a person when you had a conversation with them at 3 AM. In the wee hours of morning people seem less afraid to share their fears and stories and secrets and vulnerabilities. People are like icebergs. You only see a really small portion of them and the rest is submerged underneath the surface, I want to be able to see what’s underneath the surface.
I guess you could say I have depth and things that I tend to hide from people, but everyone has that. Maybe that’s what makes people valuable.
In my opinion? Unimportant until you get to the whole, let’s-get-married-and-start-a-family phase in your relationship, but as a whole I think it’s definitely overrated and everyone seems to be supremely over-sexed.
I feel like a lot of people mistake sex for love and I don’t think sex equals love. Love isn’t about what colour your panties are or your bra size or what birth control you’re taking, or whether your boyfriend’s physically attractive or if your girlfriend’s got a nice body, it’s not about that. It’s upsetting when people somehow equate love with the actual act of it because it’s so, so, so much more than that. I feel like sex is the cherry on top of the ice cream sundae - it’s a nice touch but you don’t necessarily need it. And I don’t even like cherries.
Grade ten math because the night before the exam I listened to iron and wine all night long instead of studying am I awesome or am I awesome
I honestly stared at this message for about ten minutes straight. I feel like this is something that my fourteen-year-old self would write to another person. I’m really struggling with what I should say here, not because I don’t think you’re beautiful and not because this message wasn’t kind, but because I can’t say just a simple “thank you” and leave it at that. No.
I don’t think I’m a wise person. People have called me wise before and I think they’re wrong. I just feel a lot and try to understand things as best as I can. I’m going to tell you something. I spent my entire life imitating other people. I was never good enough. I used to cry because I felt so inadequate in comparison to other people. About nine years ago, my mother made me take a piano class. I didn’t like playing the piano, and I wasn’t very good at it, but I was fascinated by it because to me it seemed a really elegant thing to be able to do, to play the piano. And by the end of my lessons we had a recital, and all the parents came, and all the piano students lined up and when their turn came they played a song in front of the audience. By the time my turn came, it was 9 o’clock at night, I was young, I was tired, and the concert hall was filled with people. When I got up on stage I could see my piano teacher scrutinizing me as I held out the piano bench and my parents smiling as I sat down. And right there at that moment I just decided that I was sick of it all. I started playing the most random notes, then. I hit random keys. Black key, a white key, I think at one point I pounded my elbows down on the piano. Then I stood up and bowed. Because that was the moment I realized that I couldn’t change who I was, who I am, who I’m going to be. My mother wanted me to be able to play the piano and so did I because I wanted to be graceful and elegant and talented. But I knew I’d never be a famous musician. That’s not me.
So you know what? I’m not going to say, “oh honey, of course you have depth to you,” because I’m not sure if you do. I don’t know you, I’d like to, but I don’t. All I’m going to say is that you can’t help who you are. And that’s a good thing because there’s only one of you. You should be yourself. Don’t imitate anyone, don’t try to be someone you’re not. I hope you one day have the experience of pounding your elbows down on a piano in front of two-hundred mortified audience members. I love you.
Beds are nice because they are comfy and warm and soft especially when they have lots of pillows. You can stay in it all day and you can read and watch TV in it and you can also sleep in it and bang someone in it.
It’s a coincidence that you would ask me this, because I’ve been thinking about this all day. I write letters to a really good friend of mine, and in a letter I wrote to him: “What if we never met? Would I even be okay? That night you wrote me that first letter, if I didn’t read my favourite book and the letters weren’t mentioned and I never came up with the idea would the words (and all the words) just float into the air and just evaporate and never exist or would they always exist because this situation, us, could never be avoided?”
I think maybe we’re all interconnected by some weird thing that sleeps inside of us. I’m trying to decide if it’s sad or not. I think a lot of soul mates part ways and they can still be soul mates because they’re interconnected. There have been so many love stories where two people weren’t or couldn’t be together but they were still meant for each other and their stories weren’t any less passionate. I want to believe in the idea that two people in love would stay together forever but I don’t think that’s always the case.
And I really wish it were the case.
my dream date is to actually go on a date