But let us get one thing straight: the best years of our lives are not behind us. They’re part of us and they are set for repetition as we grow up and move to New York and away from New York and wish we did or didn’t live in New York. I plan on having parties when I’m 30. I plan on having fun when I’m old. Any notion of THE BEST years comes from clichéd “should haves…” “if I’d…” “wish I’d…”
We’re so young. We’re so young. We’re twenty-two years old. We have so much time. There’s this sentiment I sometimes sense, creeping in our collective conscious as we lay alone after a party, or pack up our books when we give in and go out – that it is somehow too late. That others are somehow ahead. More accomplished, more specialized. More on the path to somehow saving the world, somehow creating or inventing or improving. That it’s too late now to BEGIN a beginning and we must settle for continuance, for commencement.
What we have to remember is that we can still do anything. We can change our minds. We can start over. Get a post-bac or try writing for the first time. The notion that it’s too late to do anything is comical. It’s hilarious. We’re graduating college. We’re so young. We can’t, we MUST not lose this sense of possibility because in the end, it’s all we have.
It’s not only tragic that she died, cutting short a life with so much possibility and promise and life left to live, but I also think it’s incredibly tragic that it took her death to bring her words to so many people, myself included. But I’m grateful that I did find them, because they’re pretty amazing.
“Everything is falling together perfectly, even though it looks as if some things are falling apart. Trust in the process you are now experiencing. Life is on your side. It is showing that to you now, though you may not be able to see it clearly at this time.”— Neale Donald Walsch (via onherway)
This is sort of a post about fashion and sort of one about life.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve often wanted to be a certain way — usually inspired by some fictional character or some person — and felt like I couldn’t be that way.
Related to fashion, the example is seeing some woman rocking red lipstick and wishing I was that sort of person, but feeling like I wasn’t. Like I’d look silly, like I couldn’t pull it off.
But I think it also applies to life. Envying someone who tries lots of new things. Someone who snowboards. Someone who plays instruments well.
It’s really easy to say to oneself: “I wish I was like that, but I can’t be.”
What I want to say is that very, very often, if not always, you can be. Wear the damn red lipstick. Try the weird food. Take up a sport. Learn to play something. We are what we do on a momentary basis, and you can choose to do so many things you tell yourself you can’t.
“To be a strong woman, to be a fierce woman, to be a true woman, to be a leader, to be truly powerful, you have to get to place where you can tolerate people not liking you. And know that when you actually do that, you have to fall back on your own moral imperative in your own moral trunk and say, ‘I don’t care, this is what I believe. This is who I am.’”—Eve Ensler, Beautiful Daughters (via sociallyconstructed)
“Pluto is interesting because it’s fixed on its moon, Charon, and they rotate around each other, constantly staring at each other affectionately, which is kind of a beautiful metaphor but I think that’s one of the reasons why it was demoted. Because I think now to be a proper planet you have to command the authority of others and because the moon and Pluto are sort of existentially attached as equals neither of them can be considered a planet. [Pauses] Sad, but true.”—
“We are children of straight society. We still think straight: that is part of our oppression. One of the worst of straight concepts is inequality. Straight (also white, English, male, capitalist) thinking view things in terms of order and comparison. A is before B, B is after A; one is below two is below three; there is no room for equality. This idea gets extended to male/female, on top/bottom, spouse/not spouse, heterosexual/homosexual; boss/worker, white/black and rich/poor. Our social institutions cause and reflect this verbal hierarchy. This is America.”—Carl Wittman, “A Gay Manifesto” (via sonofbaldwin)
the smell of the sea spotting constellations in the night sky finding an old book birds chirping outside the window dew drops on blades of grass frolicking through open space coffee in a pretty mug knowing that everything will be okay
but I distrust myself when I start to like a girl a lot.
It makes me nervous. I don’t say the right things or perhaps I start to examine, evaluate, compute what I am saying.
If I say, “Do you think it’s going to rain?” and she says, “I don’t know,” I start thinking : Does she really like me?
In other words I get a little creepy.
A friend of mine once said, ”It’s twenty times better to be friends with someone than it is to be in love with them.”
I think he’s right and besides, it’s raining somewhere, programming flowers and keeping snails happy. That’s all taken care of.
if a girl likes me a lot and starts getting real nervous and suddenly begins asking me funny questions and looks sad if I give the wrong answers and she says things like, ”Do you think it’s going to rain?” and I say, “It beats me,” and she says, “Oh,” and looks a little sad at the clear blue California sky, I think : Thank God, it’s you, baby, this time instead of me.