Archive for the ‘ Love ’ Category

Millicent


Here I stand
at a crossroads
And yet not.
I have been
Millicent
going into the woods
for a very long time.
Perhaps my entire life.
Playing and dancing
Timid and scared
Determined.
Lost.
Will this face floating forward
Survive
the dream of the day?
Or melt back
into that
quieter, safer place
Not quite ready
to meet
the sunlight?

When Every Breath is a Love Note


Love is a drug, a damn good drug but a drug none the less. Ever users a junkie, and no matter how long you’ve been clean you’re a junkie, an addict, until the day you die. Life is hollow, boring, empty, it’s a waste if you’ve never known love, it’s not life, it’s just a pale cold pantomime of life, motions and shadows but nothing more. Or, or you say ‘fuck it’ you tap the vein, you hit the plunger you get your first taste and your hooked for life. That’s what love is, it a full on cerebral assault, the delivery system may change but that’s not what they’re chasing.

Most days I do think about her, sometimes more than others, the thoughts never stray too far though. She’s different now, who she is today is so far from who she is to me. We wouldn’t recognize one another but for the social obligation to do so. She’s become a waking dream I visit in the in between hours, a place I can go to to hide. A place where all of my petty fears and issues don’t matter, a place where making one another happy, just because you were together was all that mattered. A place without expectations, without time, without death, without betrayal, a place, a place where love is enough, and everything else falls into it’s place along the wayside.

That’s the place where I see here now, in a place where I can protect her from all the worlds horrors, protect her from all my horrors. I know this, this love, I feel it in every bone of my body, proclaim it with every breath I take, and every night when I close my eyes I can find that place, I can forget about how far I’ve gone from that place, from that person. I… I never intended to fall in the first place, it wan’t the plan. It’s never the plan. You fall in love young, you never fall out of it, even when your stories over, when the love story has run it’s course you’ll always know exactly the page you’ll open it to, the passage you’ll read again and again. I’m utterly, madly in love, beyond reason,  beyond any rational justification I am. I am completely and utterly in love…with no one, or maybe with everyone, maybe they’re the same difference really. My life is becoming one long, wonderful love letter written to a beautiful dream I seem to keep having.

I know the story, I just keep walking through life, hands in my pockets, kicking pebbles down the road looking for the story to start, and it just never seems to. Any port in a storm right? Well some nights I could swear I was drowning.

Every great story is about Love, Love of one thing or another. Love of a person, love of one’s self, love of an ideal. Love is the first and only thing that can bring a man, or push a man, or allow a man to do anything of wonder or brilliance. Every word I’ve ever written has been scratched or typed with her face in my mind, every line written for her to read, dictated in my mind even in her voice. Love…the most wonderful torture, the most nightmarish ecstasy, the guiding light and engulfing shadows of life itself. The only thing that makes living worth the effort. Gotta love it

Until Next Time Kiddies

Don’t Talk About Love to Me!!


Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. Guys are hurriedly browsing online (I mean, hello, its the 21st century) for an expensive – but not too expensive, mind you – piece of heart-shaped jewelry that will please their female counterparts so that they can celebrate their love for one another on this fine day.

Ah, Love. Such a broad topic.

I mean, not that I know anything about it, really. In the twenty years of my existence on this planet Earth, I’ve experienced love…but not love love. I don’t think anyone’s experienced that kind of passion when they’re so young, at least not until they’re twenty or so. Unless your name is Romeo Montague or Juliet Capulet, that kind of affection just isn’t possible when you haven’t even learned basic Calculus yet. And still, look how the ending of Romeo and Juliet turned out!

Many teens in high school, and nowadays, even middle school, are claiming to be wise in the subject matter. After dating for only two days, Facebook status’s are updated regularly about how much “he means the world to me,” or maybe “I’d catch a grenade for you, honey.”

WHAT. Are you kidding me. Okay, first of all, gross. Not when its all over my Newsfeed. Second of all, after only two days, how can you judge your feelings for someone just like that? Especially if you only just met them. That’s not really love, that’s just the hormones speaking.

I mean, maybe I’m wrong, and you can tell me off if I am. But seriously. You guys are FIFTEEN. What do you know about love? Not very much. And it makes it even more awkward by saying that he or she is the One, and then breaking up a week later.

Am I in Love???


Love
Love???
I am in love with a fantasy.
In love with the thought of what could have been.
In love with trying to change what is, into what could be.
In love with trying to love someone who is unattainable.
In love with a love that won’t let me walk away.
In love with complete trust that is completely unrealistic.
In love with the wish that he would love me the way I love him.
In love with the prince charming that he will never be.
In love with that type of “love” I swore I’d never have.
In love with a love that consumes me.
In love with a love that will never be.

A Beautiful Mess-Jason Mraz-w/ lyrics


You’ve got the best of both worlds
You’re the kind of girl who can take down a man,
And lift him back up again
You are strong but you’re needy,
Humble but you’re greedy
And based on your body language,
And shoddy cursive I’ve been reading
Your style is quite selective,
though your mind is rather reckless
Well I guess it just suggests
that this is just what happiness is

Hey, what a beautiful mess this is
It’s like picking up trash in dresses

Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you write
Kind of turn themselves into knives
And don’t mind my nerve you could call it fiction
But I like being submerged in your contradictions, dear
‘Cause here we are, here we are

Although you were biased I love your advice
Your comebacks ‒ they’re quick
And probably have to do with your insecurities
There’s no shame in being crazy,
Depending on how you take these
Words that paraphrasing this relationship we’re staging

And what a beautiful mess, yes it is
It’s like picking up trash in dresses

Well it kind of hurts when the kind of words you say
Kind of turn themselves into blades
And the kind and courteous is a life I’ve heard
But it’s nice to say that we played in the dirt
‘Cause here, here we are, here we are
Here we are [x7]

We’re still here
What a beautiful mess this is
It’s like taking a guess when the only answer is “Yes”

Through timeless words and priceless pictures
We’ll fly like birds not of this earth

And tides ‒ they turn ‒ and hearts disfigure
But that’s no concern when we’re wounded together

And we tore our dresses and stained our shirts
But it’s nice today. Oh, the wait was so worth it.

[Thanks to Jennasie for these lyrics]
[Thanks to Kati Medford, Mike, Kelli, Emeleigh McDonald for correcting these lyrics]

Adam Sandler – Grow Old With You


This afternoon music.. ^^

[Billy Idol (Speaking):] Good afternoon everyone.
We’re flying at 26, 000 feet, moving
Up to thirty thousand feet, and then we’ve got clear skies
All the way to Las Vegas, and right now we’re bringing you some in-flight
Entertainment. One of our first-class passengers would like to sing you a song
Inspired by one of our coach passengers, and since we let our first-class
Passengers do pretty much whatever they want, here he is.

[Robbie Hart (Singing):]
I wanna make you smile whenever you’re sad
Carry you around when your arthritis is bad
Oh all I wanna do is grow old with you

I’ll get your medicine when your tummy aches
Build you a fire if the furnace breaks
Oh it could be so nice, growing old with you

I’ll miss you
Kiss you
Give you my coat when you are cold

Need you
Feed you
Even let ya hold the remote control

So let me do the dishes in our kitchen sink
Put you to bed when you’ve had too much to drink
I could be the man who grows old with you
I wanna grow old with you

A hug is worth a thousand words. A friend is worth more.


Hug and friends

Hug and friends

I received an  anonymous question this morning on Tumblr from a far flung admirer. It got me thinking about friendship in general, and how the modern world seems to have done everything it can to dissuade us from friendship.

Perhaps some of the reasoning for these thoughts surfacing is Barack Obama’s speech at Tucson yesterday;

In the fleeting time we have on this earth, what matters is not wealth, or status, or power, or fame – but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in bettering the lives of others

Maybe it’s time to stand up. Time to tell those we love. Time to reach out to friends, to be there, and to remember the difference we can make to each other.

Do it. I dare you.