“I’m not fascinated by people who smile all the time. What I find interesting is the way people look when they are lost in thought, when their face becomes angry or serious, when they bite their lip, the way they glance, the way they look down when they walk, when they are alone and smoking a cigarette, when they smirk, the way they half smile, the way they try and hold back tears, the way when their face says they want to say something but can’t, the way they look at someone they want or love… I love the way people look when they do these things. It’s… beautiful.”— Unknown (via soaringaboveitall)
Another girl that was in my class. She had this amazing laugh that made others laugh at the sound of it. I never really thought much about her until I watched her take in others who were lonely or sad. She even took in a girl who had no place to go for about 3 months and never expected one thing in return. She’s one of my best friends and I respect her honesty more than anything.
I have a cousin with a mental disability named Sam. He loves to draw disney characters and is amazing at it. You can name any character an dhe will draw it from memory beautifully. He’ll color it for you even, but his particular favorite is Winnie The Pooh. He’s a kickass guy.
Emily Tebbetts is the most amazing photographer I know. She also has this amazing ability to find the good in any situation. She really, really inspires me, and I’m not saying that as some “fan” or someone looking for attention. She really makes me see the beauty still left, especially after her amazing work with Susan G. Komen foundation. Her strength and positive attitude helped me when someone I consider to be almost like a mother was just recently diagnosed with cancer.
I went to cosmetology school with a girl named Jamie. She was beautiful and appeared to be kind. Though she wasn’t, she convinced a small group of girls to think I was stuck up and a tattle tale because I was quiet and didn’t gossip about other girls in the class. It really got to me, it hurt me so bad I didn’t think I’d be able to finish school because I was forced to be in a small classroom 43 hours a week with these girls. Soon though, for whatever reason, they started to like me a lot, and while I never trusted her, or went out of my way to talk to her, I forgave her. People judge what they don’t understand.
There was a David I knew when I was in highschool. He was a senior while I was a freshman. At one of our holiday dances he was there dancing with lots of girls and being charming of course. He was one of those genuinely nice people that did whatever possible to make others comfortable. I was really shy when I was younger and I kind of just hid myself (which still happens). Anyway, David came over to me and asked me to dance, and while we were dancing he gave me advice, and just talked to me. We stayed friends through that year, and after he graduated he moved to New York and I haven’t seen him since, but I never forgot his kindness.
“To be a good human being is to have a kind of openness to the world, an ability to trust uncertain things beyond your own control, that can lead you to be shattered in very extreme circumstances for which you were not to blame. That says something very important about the condition of the ethical life: that it is based on a trust in the uncertain and on a willingness to be exposed; it’s based on being more like a plant than like a jewel, something rather fragile, but whose very particular beauty is inseparable from that fragility.”—Martha Nussbaum (via katelizabeth)
I know by now you are probably tired of me. But, I wanted you to know this. While my step sister and I were sitting together on the computer, I pulled up your blog. I told her how much of an inspiration you are to me. We looked through every photograph on your DA albums. We talked about how stunningly gorgeous you are and how amazing your photography is. I told her you were everything I've ever wanted to be in life.
Last week was so awful for me. I felt so completely numb and I hid myself away from everyone. Thank you so much for taking the time to write this to me. Thank you for finding me an inspiration, I wish I could thank you 1,000 times over and again, just know that this means a lot to me.
“There is a kind of crying I hope you have not experienced, and it is not just crying about something terrible that has happened, but a crying for all of the terrible things that have happened, not just to you but to everyone you know and to everyone you don’t know and even the people you don’t want to know, a crying that cannot be diluted by a brave deed or a kind word, but only by someone holding you as your shoulders shake and your tears run down your face.”—Lemony Snicket (via thechocolatebrigade)
“I close my eyes and I let my body shut itself down and I let my mind wander. It wanders to a familiar place. A place I don’t talk about or acknowledge exists. A place where there is only me. A place that I hate. I am alone. Alone here and alone in the world. Alone in my heart and alone in my mind. Alone everywhere, all the time, for as long as I can remember. Alone with my Family, alone with my friends, alone in a Room full of People. Alone when I wake, alone through each awful day, alone when I finally meet the blackness. I am alone in my horror. Alone in my horror. I don’t want to be alone. I have never wanted to be alone. I fucking hate it. I hate that I have no one to talk to, I hate that I have no one to call, I hate that I have no one to hold my hand, hug me, tell me everything is going to be all right. I hate that I have no one to share my hopes and dreams with, I hate that I no longer have any hopes or dreams, I hate that I have no one to tell me to hold on, that I can find them again. I hate that when I scream, and I scream bloody murder, that I am screaming into emptiness. I hate that there is no one to hear my scream and that there is no one to help me learn how to stop screaming… More than anything, all I have ever wanted is to be close to someone. More than anything, all I have ever wanted is to feel as if I wasn’t alone.”—A Million Little Pieces - James Frey
“Our life is made up of time; our days are measured in hours, our pay measured by those hours, our knowledge is measured by years. We grab a few quick minutes in our busy day to have a coffee break. We rush back to our desks, we watch the clock, we live by appointments. And yet your time eventually runs out and you wonder in your heart of hearts if those seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and decades were being spent the best way they possibly could. In other words, if you could change anything, would you?”—Cecilia Ahern (via thechocolatebrigade)
a box full of limbs, a jar full of souls. a gentle scientist whose heart is growing old. picking up each piece as if they’re made of gold. completeing each little person, loving them like his own. some with eyes that work, some that speak too slow. to him they all shine, not a single piece attached wrong. at last he adds the soul, the beauty that sets us apart, from the mother holding her child, to the man with too large of heart. the scientist retires as the light in the windows fade, and keeps inside the joy of the little wonders he made.
underneath the skin lives a crooked skeletal frame. each bone connecting to another, each one a special name. the ribs over the heart, the most important part. eyelashes long and strong, to keep away nightmares and visions gone wrong. lips parted and weak, inside they hold secrets they dare not speak. a spine long and far too overworked, from bending over backwards breaking to make a jagged puzzle piece work. ten shaking fingertips belonging to a girl whose fragile arms cannot hold the weight of the world.