“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.”
i get to see all these nice, lanky, floppy nerdy boys come in and talk to my houemate. everyday, new boy. some days, two different boys to share a couch and conversation.
little do they know when we leave we all sigh about how severely friend-zoned they are!
googling myself makes me nervous D:
“I’ve taken up Zumba. Zumba— like its predecessors yoga, sushi, tae bo, and bahn mi— has made its way from foreign lands straight to the luxurious Murray Hill Crunch gym. If you’re wondering what the next of these trends will be, just imagine that Sex and the City were still on the air, picture what the girls are doing while talking about sex, and that’s the new fad. My money’s on either Ethiopian food or Thai sex trafficking. Cultural appropriation has never looked so chic[…]
The instructor is neither of these. Instead she is that type of ethnically ambiguous girl who manages to be both skinny and have an ass. She has a wild mane of bouncy curls that she wears out, despite the fact that the rest of the class has opted for the high ponytail with optional sweatband and non-optional buckets of sweat. She is the kind of girl who moonlights as a dancer at bar mitzvahs, the only straight girl at a gay bar, and the only kind of person who looks reasonable wearing booty shorts in public. […]
There are “Indian” songs, “belly dancing” songs, “Mexican folk” songs, none of which really seem authentic — mostly because they’re all remixed with Pitbull— but nobody cares.”
1.5 hours of toasting on the Glade + 12 hours of sleep = i’m fresh as fuck!
i remember what i used to do with lovers. wanted them so badly that i tried to lick the dreams out of their lips, suck their secrets out of their skin, claw my fingertips down trails, maybe they could lead me to myself, kneading muscles all over each other
and now what’s left, there’s just me
i am my own love story
“Nowhere to go but the heart.”
High-school “car wars” outside of the bowling alley.
“We’re having a white music contest now.”
“That’s not fair!”
“I can’t believe I’m going to do this.. This is really white..”
And they win with Neil McDonald!
**props to Karen for being Milpitas’ best videographer.
** Yes this is an example of hella skewed notions of race but i’d like to excuse our 18yearoldsomethingselves <3
Apparently over 40,000 people have viewed this. Walk down the Milpitas High Memory Lane. Karen: “memories dude, four year old memories.”
