She keeps my heart pumping.
- japan ≠ korea ≠ china
- pakistan is not in the middle east
- most muslims aren’t arabs
- geishas are not prostitutes
- mexico is a very small part of latin america
- there are 54 countries in africa
- china has 56 different ethnic groups and none of them eat chop suey
- singapore is not part of china
- most singaporeans speak english as their first language, please don’t ask, “why is your English so good”
Sometimes, I forget that I am young. I forget that I have only been blessed with a quarter of a century. I forget that mistakes are part of trying.I forget that fear is motivation, not food for anxiety.I forget that friendship takes kindness, and openness. I need to forget those who have made me less kind and less open.I forget the way a first kiss feels. I forget to smile sometimes. I forget what it’s like to be wooed, except by myself.I forget that it’s better to woo yourself than to expect others to do it for you.I forget how to give a genuine hug to someone other than my mother and my father. Because I’m fearful others won’t return it. I forget the sound of my first boyfriend’s voice. I forget to eat well.I forget to make eye contact, retail has killed a friendlier version of myself.I forget not to stand tall and act like I don’t care, because of how I was approached when I cared. I forget that kindness and courage can go hand in hand.I forget who I was when I was 19. I forget what it looks like when someone wants to be your friend.I forget because I remember that no one can change my life, only I can. I remember these wonderful women who have looked me in the eye, and told me good, and kind words. Strong words.I forget that each day is a blessing. That each day is what I make it. That each day belongs to me and me alone. I forget. I’m going to forget forgetting and start remembering.That Kind Of Woman
Universal terms. different concepts, definitions, action. One may perceive in a way another may not.
I hate the word Love. I hate not knowing what it is. I hate knowing what it means but feeling the hollowness of its definition. I hate looking at it and seeing what it is, but not believing in it.
Sacrifice. The most common action to “prove” love. Proving. I hate that word too. We shouldn’t feel like we need to sacrifice for our other. You should want to for your own benefit: to better yourself as a gift for your other. Like “here dude, I’m a great ass person and I come with a fucking bow on top.” Everyone likes presents, yet we allow ourselves to stay stuck in our past. Absorb what happened and get the fuck outta there. Better yourself for the next time around.
Love starts with you: how well do you know yourself, and how much do you love what you know?