(Source: wolf-teeth, via cherryblossomtreelover)

optimistsdaughter:

For Jane: with all the love I had, which was not enough.

(via so-routine)

(Source: travelerofworlds, via flickerism)

(Source: classicsimpsons, via makinganame)

definitelydope:

Unrealistic Scenes by Nathan Spotts

(via sminchala)

11:32 PM

The moon seeps itself through my window and I have a yearning to write something mildly cliche but I think against if. Time after time in my 20 years of existence I thought how lovely it was to be alone, secluded from the selfishness of mankind and the greediness of his heart. I have faced countless conflicting situations of individuals that preform good deeds, contradictory to their overall character. Isn’t that ironic? I desire to place these individuals in categories -boxes with labels on them- and shove them into the depths of my mind where they aren’t to be seen. Yet I do not have the courage to do so. That is the problem with people who think as I do. They believe in one strong trait of the individual and allow it to precede over the main evident elements that cloud over them. Is it wrong to wish happiness of an individual though seemingly they do not deserve it? After all, who am I to judge?

Everyone has a depicted image of what a good person is. We are who we chose to be. The actions of an individual reflect their inner most thoughts. Sometimes it may be seen on the surface, other times you need to swim a little deeper. I have always been good with not condemning an individual for the path they chose to walk. Lately I’ve been getting more critical and peculiar. I suppose I am traditional. Nothing wrong with that until opinions and ideals are imposed on another. I guess that we are the same, the only thing is that I dare not impose myself to such an extent where it is viewed as annoying and excessive. At least I think so. For me, I retaliate. I think I’m doing a favor by acting so but not exactly. I can be confrontational but it doesn’t always suit me if the other party is in denial.

It comes down to this. Everyone makes a choice. Everyone is held accountable for their actions. If you disagree, move on. That’s what I did. And it feels great.

"Being born a woman is an awful tragedy. Yes, my consuming desire to mingle with road crews, sailors and soldiers, bar room regulars—to be a part of a scene, anonymous, listening, recording —all is spoiled by the fact that I am a girl, a female always in danger of assault and battery. My consuming interest in men and their lives is often misconstrued as a desire to seduce them, or as an invitation to intimacy. Yet, God, I want to talk to everybody I can as deeply as I can. I want to be able to sleep in an open field, to travel west, to walk freely at night."

Sylvia Plath  (via oh-girl-among-the-roses)

(Source: raccoonwounds, via nakedintellect)

12:01 AM

Monday. The week of doing absolutely nothing begins. You’d think I would be gracious to accept this proposition but I clearly am filled with resentment of the fact that there is absolutely indefinitely nothing to do (well compared to the usual amount of work that I do).

This is the problem with workaholics.

I tried making the best of today, buying gifts for my lovely secretaries and deciding how I wanted to raffle them off. I even made an excel sheet for it. Nicole looked at me disapprovingly. I’ve got an obsession with those things. I also attempted to read The Great Gatsby to prepare myself to go see it next weekend with Yads but I may end up in Ithaca this weekend.

I haven’t even thought of a graduation gift as yet.

I am seriously craving the Mexican bagels they sell there (yes they’re called Mexicans) and it saddens me knowing that this will probably be the last time I’ll be eating them. Must be harder for Corey.

But I’m working hard on a gift to give a month from now. My hand feels like its going to fall off from writing so much but it’ll be so worth it in the end. I kind of want to leave Wednesday to go upstate but duty calls.

Anyways this is just another rambling post.

Why have I been blessed to have someone like you in my life I will never know.

Thank you God for putting him in my life.

(Source: where-the-heart-is, via blackguysforever)

winningthebattleloosingthewar:

Kashmir by Steve McCurry

(via ajeetbabu)

(Source: 27-exp, via sminchala)

(Source: weheartit.com, via nakedintellect)

(Source: browndresswithwhitedots, via sminchala)

undr:

Roland Pleterski

Central Park, New York, 1956

(via ajeetbabu)