Day 276.

There are people, people we love, who walk in and out of our lives. How they come and go isn't always relevant, but the impressions they make on our hearts are impossible to ignore. 

Sometimes I love too strongly. Sometimes I take drastic leaps of faith. Sometimes I allow my head and heart to dream too big. 

And sometimes I get hurt.

I resist the encroaching pain. I ignore the reality.

I kiss the stranger. I befriend the slanderer.

I question my faults. I regret.

But all I can do is stand. Wipe off the mud I've wallowed through. Appreciate. Forgive. Smile. 

We were all made to love. And its not a fault, but rather a strength. It complicates life. But the impressions made on our hearts are worth the few complications. 

Perhaps my heart randomly begins to ache a little. Perhaps a tear finds its way down my cheek. 

But I'll take it -- heartaches, tears and all -- because loving is all worth it.

So I'll love with all my strength. I'll take grand leaps of faith. And I will always dream as big as my head and heart are capable of dreaming.

And I'll be a stronger human being because of it.

Listening to: The Devil's Tears (Angus & Julia Stone)

I should be: sleeping...

Day of the year: 276

Day 251.

Take notice of the short, i.e. nonexistent, number of days in-between my two posts. I won't grovel for any congratulating on your part, as that is unnecessary, but you should all know that I am most certainly applauding myself.

I write tonight with the pure and sole intent to paint an image in your mind. Read the words slowly. Ponder each sentence. Allow yourself to be encompassed in the image. And, to fully experience this verbally-painted portrait I strongly encourage you begin by playing the following playlist:

****

A late rainy evening in September. On a random street of this subtle metropolis sits a modest blue house. A blue house built in 1909. At the back of the house, we find a room added in a later decade. Garish yellow wallpaper covers each wall. Underneath the wallpaper on the west most wall, the bumps and lines of brick are distinguishable. Two long yet slender windows expose the darkness of the young night. Bookshelves, desks and art supplies reside in this romantic studio. A sewing machine hides in the corner, yearning to be used. The maroon paint on the dusty wood floor whispers of the beatings it has taken over the years. A girl sits with her back against the east wall. The muffled sounds of conversation drift from various rooms throughout the house. Seated on the ground, the girl can feel as gravity melds her tailbone to the hard floor. And even then, everything seems right with the world. She allows the rich sounds of jazz to envelope her. With eyes shut tight, she can feel the notes on her finger tips, taste the melody on her tongue. And it sounds so right.

Day 250.

Oh my. My inability to blog consistently is pitiful really. But enough of that.
What is new homeslices?! The newness on my end is overwhelming really. No, I joke. I am back to the grind of school. I do have a fabulous new job though. H&M. If you need a great hourly job, Hennes & Mauritz is the place.


Life is tough friends. Things don't go as planned. It is rare that I plan out my life further than what I plan to eat at the next meal, but for some ridiculous reason I drew up a plan in my head of what the next year was going to look like for myself. It was going to be great. School, work, social life. Everything was going to go swimmingly. But I come today to inform you of my cliche yet incredibly sincere revelation.

Life wasn't made for plans. Life was made for living. 

If you live everyday with the idea that everything in life must go to plan, you will live a very unhappy life. Yes, you can strive to achieve things. You can make goals. But you cannot expect every minute detail to execute itself in the order, timing, manner, etc. in which you had decided in that mind of yours. A rough outline is healthy -- it allows for direction. But it would be silly to expect life to play out as if it were following a script, a script written by you.

I hope that I successfully conveyed my thoughts on the matter. I intended this idea to come across as a positive one, one that allows you to dream more freely, an idea that inspires you to live to your fullest. Because life is full of surprises, and to embrace the unexpected is to live.

Day 109.

With finals week rushing at me head on -- by which I mean finals begin today -- my anxiety levels are rising and my emotions in general seem to be heightened.  With the mountains of studying I have yet to do and the grades whose complete fate have yet to be determined, my tolerance levels for other individuals has dropped drastically. But enough of that. Back to studying.

**I believe Jessica Day says everything best. 

Listening to: people typing in the library
First final: Art History
Day of the year: 109

Day 101.

We went and saw Young the Giant in concert last night. So great. So crazy. I have very little to say, because that is my tendency lately when it comes to blogging, but please let it be known that I touched Sameer Gadhia's chest. Enough said. 

   

Listening to: the muffled music of my videos from last night.

Rather than being productive: I'm laying in bed still...

Day of the year: 101

Day 70.

As far as my thoughts go in regards to the topic of kissing, I will have to expound at a later time.  But, I stumbled upon this video on buzzfeed tonight and wanted to share.  It evokes a great deal of curiosity in me regarding the topic. I would venture to say that I truly enjoy the overall sentiment of the video though. So do enjoy.

*If your stomach churns at the sight of PDA (particularly passionate kissing) 

and/or homosexuality I would recommend skipping the video.

Listening to: ...nothing.

Should be: sleeping -- instead I'm squandering my thoughts on kissing...

Day of the year: 70

Day 36.

Miss me much?  Its been 3 months to the day. That is definitely a crazy coincidence. I got on here to blog last month, and actually had written the greater part of a post, but then never finished.  So here I am on February 5th, at 12:35 am writing for the first time in three months.
I have few intentions for this post. I want so badly to blog with greatness and do so routinely, but I struggle trying to think of things to write.  I don't want to bore you with what I made for dinner, or who I talked to, and so instead I say nothing. And I do sincerely apologize.

At the risk of sounding cliché, I share the following thoughts with you.
Within each of us exists the innate desire to be wanted. To be loved. We search for someone to complete that block of Maslow's pyramid.  And yet we put our emotional selves in harms way to find a person who can do that for us. We are the ones who allow ourselves to be hurt, we make our hearts vulnerable. We forget about that natural instinct to protect ourselves; we deny all logic.
We are beat. We create opportunities to be bruised and battered. And some of us foolishly do so time and time again.
And yet we continue.  We lose control of our emotions.  We lose our cool.

And despite the chaos and turmoil to be found, despite the billions of individuals that exist on the face of the planet, two people find a place of solace -- those same individuals who wished to be wanted are contented.


Happiness can be achieved without being loved romantically.  I know I am as happy today as I choose to be. It is just a very odd, very illogical, desire to contemplate.  I of all people can readily admit that I fall weak inside often. I throw my heart out for the lions of this emotional world to shred and devour.  At times I wonder if I can recover from the emotional damage I have subjected myself to.  I can.  In those moments of torture, it is hard to see any further than that hour, that moment, that night, but in the long haul, everything is wonderful.  Maybe the statistically improbable will happen and you will find love. And maybe it won't.  But thats ok.  We all want to be wanted.  To be loved.  You want to be wanted. You and 7 billion other people. Remember. You and 7 billion people.




Listening to: Joshua Radin
Glad to be alive: because why not?
Day of the Year: 36

Day 309.

I glanced into the mirror this afternoon and saw my mother. Now, my mother has blonde curly hair and blue eyes, whereas I have brown hair and dark brown eyes, but nonetheless the reflection which I saw was very much that of my mother's, just the darker version. Odd right? Well that is all I really have to say about that. 

Here are a few random things to share, because I have little tidbits of thoughts and such, and none of it would coherently work together.

• Dating...
• I'm going to the Iron & Wine concert tomorrow!!
• Moody girls are painstakingly exasperating.
• Sadly, the past does often define us.
• And I like this cat:
  
  
  
  
  
  Listening to: my cat meow.
  Feeling: my feet fall asleep, slowly going numb.
  Day of the year: 309

day 291 & 1/2.

*random pinterest thoughts at two o'clock in the morning

Listening to: the random noises of night & the heavy breathing of a sleeping roommate 

In need of: a motherly hug and sleep

Day of the year: somewhere between 291 & 292

day 290.

Last night I became a part of a society that most consider odd. Freegans. Don't know who are freegans are? Let me lay this out for you. Businesses close. Employees and owners can no longer sell certain items due to laws and rules dictating how fresh items must be to sell them. The sun sets. And thats where freegans come in. Yes, you are correct; a freegan is a dumpster diver.
I'm well aware of how disgusting the nature of this sport must sound. But we were picky. We took only that which was well packaged and [what seemed] fresh. We scored big time last night at a bakery. Let me just say that I think I will likely only ever participate in freeganism at bakeries. Here is why:
1) They have hardly any trash aside from the rejected bread loaves and pastries; 2) They have to throw baked goods away on a daily basis; & 3) Baked goods are freegan [wink wink] delicious. Don't worry. I definitely had some delicious toast this morning made from bread obtained from my incredibly humorous (to me and my friends) efforts last night around midnight.
Anway, so freeganism. Its a thing. A real thing. And if you don't believe me, do look it up. If you decide to give it a try here are a few things I suggest:

• Base your decision of whether it may be a good find or not on the smell (for example bakeries' smell of delicious donuts and other things of the like)
• Go with friends -- it makes the adventure much more fun.
• Consider your attire with caution. Boots are a wise choice.
• Do not, under any circumstance, take anything that is not carefully packaged (ie NO free floating french fries. No free floating anything!!!)

So there you have it, my suggestions. I don't suggest you lead a freegan life if you live in a generally unsanitary part of the country, or world for that matter. Main point is, be smart. Being stupid could make you sick. Or kill ya. Who knows. So maybe the best suggestion would be to not become a freegan. Yup, I guess thats the moral of the story.

You might enjoy this as well:

*Considering the fact that my friends and I went together and we did not make nasty sludge from our findings, I think I won't have to go find friends in the dumpsters. Not for those reasons anyway.

Well if I get deathly ill from that delicious piece of toast, I will definitely let you know. Unless of course I die. Then I won't let you know. So I guess in this case, no news is BAD news.

Have a wonderful day!!!!

"The hunger for love is much more difficult
to remove than the hunger for bread." [Mother Teresa]

Listening to: What If You [by Joshua Radin]

I should be: studying statistics

Day of the year: 290