Golden Calculator Required

If there is something I love, it's words. Reading words a stranger wrote continents away. Visiting older words neatly resting on dusty shelves. Meeting with my current words on my nightstand at the end of the day. Watching someone's lips while more words come to life. It's detrimental if the wrong person with the right words gets a hold of you, but my god do I adore words.

now turn the page ...

I'm an avid believer in the concept of "tasting your words before you spit them out," and I for the most part don't like people who use too many words aka talk too much, but lately I've been on a new one. I've been practicing being horribly straightforward. I get a sick kick out of sending reckless text messages because I figured how reckless can a form of digitized communication really be?! Think about it, I know females (likely males too -- only no one will ever know) who spend minutes, hours, DAYS contemplating responses on a tiny screen that just goes "whoosh" and displays "delivered." That's just crazy, abnormally, irrationally, and absolutely crazy. I get it, we're the tech-generation. Everything is abbreviated, everything is readily available, everything is everything (if only Lauryn Hill's "heart was still in rhyming"), but it's just a god damn text message. If you need to contemplate a response to a person, if you need to set up a pow-wow with your girlfriends to have them pet your ego and assure you that your wording is correct then you're not living. What's worse is you don't even realize you could get hit by a bus one day or accept the always neglected concept of death. Instead of all that agony, spend it saying whatever the heck it is you're thinking. Tell people how absolutely magical they are in a human pool of filth. Live your life straightforward or at least try to. Maybe this is just a phase I'm going thru. Maybe it's weird, scary or downright impossible to just be, to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like in this very moment if you do not tell them, hold them, see them, touch them in some way -- whether it's your toes under the sheets, your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands that you maybe will just wish you were hit by a bus. See sharing words with the right person has me thinking that there is nothing more beautiful than being desperately straight forward and nothing more riskier than pretending not to care.

My thoughts are vaild simply because I think them

There are a few things about my appearance I've known for a long time. I know I have an awkward face, it's not pretty in the way some faces are. My jaw line is too strong for a woman. My nose is too pointy and long. My eyes don't twinkle or reflect light properly. My hair never falls just perfectly without some energy from a blow dryer. My lips aren't immaculately sculpted in a cupid's arrow nor is my chin equally memorable. With that being said, I've been starring at myself more and more in the mirror and as a result I'm realizing how lucky I am for all the awkwardness that has resided here for the last 28 years -- some new thanks to getting older and some permanent thanks to my parents.

So, yes I'll never be good enough to be that girl and that's not bad.

I like things & stuff. Mostly stuff, but don't tell things.

stuff I like

fire escapes | libraries | bubble baths | hoodies | knee high socks | hand sanitizer | smell of baby powder | brick walls | gummy bears | palm trees | most old things | light bulbs | water | chucks | the color black | coffee | peonies | dogs | quotes | metropolitan cities | shadows | cartoons | book stores | candles | photographs | big mugs | popcorn | Halloween | frames | airports | swings | balloons | white tees | good tunes | bicycles | doors | furniture | flea markets | space | nutella | legos | cake | hot fries | Polaroids | my niece/nephews | holidays | rain | 

Innate Behavior

I've always pegged myself as a rational, non-impulse, controlled shopper, but there is something about the right pieces of fabric paired with the right pieces of metal that just make a girl go cray cray.

 

 



Chi City

♪ ♫ I met this girl when I was twenty eight years old ♫ ♪

 

Chicago, 2014

 

"until next time ..."

It's in our nature to let 'it' go ...

A few things I(RIS) enjoy