I Like Your Freckles

As I, a twenty-something coastal post-grad attempt to navigate the globe and my constantly evolving world of man-boys, you (the reader) get to follow. Feel free to point and laugh. OR you can ask for advice and share your own stories. Either way, life can be silly; it's always best when shared.

-Freckles

P.S. Read the above links to catch yourself up on the philosophy and my romantic entanglements. If you need advice, click the 'ask me anything' link at the top left of the page.

I wish my moderate Republican friends would simply be honest. They all say they’re voting for Romney because of his economic policies (tenuous and ill-formed as they are), and that they disagree with him on gay rights. Fine. Then look me in the eye, speak with a level clear voice, and say, ‘My taxes and take-home pay mean more than your fundamental civil rights, the sanctity of your marriage, your right to visit an ailing spouse in the hospital, your dignity as a citizen of this country, your healthcare, your right to inherit, the mental welfare and emotional well-being of your youth, and your very personhood.’ It’s like voting for George Wallace during the Civil Rights movements, and apologizing for his racism. You’re still complicit. You’re still perpetuating anti-gay legislation and cultural homophobia. You don’t get to walk away clean, because you say you ‘disagree’ with your candidate on these issues.

Pulitzer and Tony winning playwright Doug Wright (via abloodymess)

(via stamos)

“I’m not a good person, but you are,” he said..

“I hope you’re doing well. Miss you.”

While I am not fluent in the tongue of self-loathing, I know enough to recognize a cry for help when I see one. The dilemma is this: do all cries for help deserve a response? The idealistic, humanist inside me is frantically screaming, “OF COURSE!??” It is just that I tend to let my need to feel needed make me blind to manipulation.

But really, what is the cost of a reply? Nothing? God, even as I am writing this I am not sure if I have come full circle or just talked myself into a deeper confusion. How could he possibly be playing me? I am in a far more emotionally stable place than I was when we met. Physically, I am more than a world away.. and let’s face it. I have dated enough people since that emotionally, he feels very distant.

He has probably seen terrible things. Most likely, he has killed people. But I can’t forget that I had him on a pedestal. If even for a brief time, he helped me leaps and bounds in the intimacy department and I still feel… indebted.

I can’t understand. All I can offer is a kind word and the kind of support that shines through the backlight of an LCD screen. I’ll give him a few days so whatever this becomes isn’t emotionally exhausting.

I do wish I could hear his voice.

Projection

Like images reflected onto a screen, sometimes it is all too easy to finnagle our own issues into the dramas and misgivings of others.

As of late, I am all too guilty of this and it is my fear that that if it continues, it will hinder far more than roommate relations. It will hinder my spirit.

Bitterness is not a cloak I wear comfortably or well. Yet, whenever I remember how far I am from home and the comforts and securities that familiar faces provide, it is easy to wear said cloak under the pretense that it is some sort of safe guard.

Truth is, the joke is on Freckles. When you put up a wall, the only person that gets walled out is yourself. These past two weeks have been a magnificent testament to the Universe’s sick sense of humor. I am not in control. I never am, really. I guess the issue being skirted around is that Freckles is having a big ole’ “Life isn’t fair moment,” and you know what? That’s okay. I can stomp my feet and feel bitter as much as I want as long as it is dealt with healthfully. That is what I am doing by writing this incredibly vague entry that even I don’t want to understand. It’s too embarassing that I even care about shit like this. (end rant)

So, the game plan is this: I am going to fake it till I make it and go forward with a smile. The prettiest girls are the happiest girls. The point is to remember that happiness is always the superior choice.

Always.

Been in (s)Exmouth for 2 months now..

.. who knew this city girl could start to love a sky without a skyline?

sexy exy

There is no part of yourself that you leave behind. You can’t remove any part of yourself. You can only manage the different parts of yourself. There’s a car. It’s filled with people. The 12-year old kid’s in the back, so is the 22-year old, so is the 40-year old guy that likes to screw up, so is the 30-year old guy who wants to get his hands on the wheel and puts the pedal to the metal and drive you into a tree. All these people are in the car. That’s ok, that’s never gonna change. Nobody’s leaving. The doors are shut locked and sealed until you go into your box. But, who’s driving makes a really big difference.

Bruce Springsteen (via soupsoup) (via fuckyeahtheboss) (via f1tspirati0n)

Tears in my eyes. The Boss is the man…

(via spareunderthemat)

I LOVE THIS WITH EVERYTHING I HAVE. BOSS FOREVER.

katgeorge:

I’m not a huge fan of Rihanna, but she just won like, at least 17 points with this. GO GIRL.

annnnd FRECKLES JUST DIED INSIDE. Ri ri. What a motherfucking OG.

As much as this hurt my heart… I totallyyy understand.

(via popculturebrain)

Bristol Palin’s argument against this perceived hypocrisy concludes: “It would’ve been nice if the President would’ve been an actual leader and helped shape their thoughts instead of merely reflecting what many teenagers think after one too many episodes of Glee,” perhaps accidentally referencing a show that spent most of its first season developing a plotline about an unwed teenage mother who expresses herself by dancing to beloved pop standards in ridiculous costumes.

Darren Franich is killing it today. (via entertainmentweekly)

DEAD

copycats:

“Runaway” - Fun.
originally by Kanye West

Best thing I seen all week. ALL WEEK.

(via popculturebrain)

runaway as fast as you can

Jealousy

.. such an empty emotion, isn’t it? It inspires nothing, means less and basically only serves to remind that I am in fact a human being despite my every day attempts at being a robot. No point, Freckles. Let it go. For every person you are jealous of, there is someone who is jealous of you or thinks you have something they don’t.

The truth is, we all have something to offer. It simply takes time and maturity to recognize it.

TRUTH