Thankful for all these loons. Love you, girls.
I don’t think that the pain of losing someone close to you will ever dissipate. It’s not something that you can easily forget; not something easy to move on from. I believe the pain is somehow… permanent. It lingers; it stays in the inner corners of your being, seeking comfort and isolation.
You know how they say that time heals everything? I don’t think time heals anything at all. All it does is mask the pain. It covers your sorrows; conforms you to change, but underneath it all, just beneath the surface, you know that it is still there. It still wanders your soul. And at times when you try to scrape it off, thinking that it won’t hurt; that it has healed, it consumes the deepest parts of your mind and your thoughts.
It tries to make you forget that you were in pain. It tries. And it fails.
Sometimes, I feel that apart from my dad, nobody else takes me seriously, when it comes to serious matters/conversations, just because I’m younger than them. So, what, just because you’re older, it automatically makes you more knowledgeable? And because I’m younger, that makes me shallow-minded? I don’t know when some people are going to realize that maturity is not always defined by age. There are people over the age of 40 who are not even remotely close to having a matured mind. And I’ve seen 6 year olds with the maturity of 60 year olds. It aggravates the hell out of me when people look at me and think “Oh, she’s a kid, what does she know anyway. Better not waste my time talking to her.” -_-
- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
I thank God every day for my grandparents. They’ve been there by my side for as long as I can remember, holding my hand, guiding me through thick and thin, even when we were both living in two different countries.
I thank God for all their support, for showing so much faith in me, and never failing to make me believe that I can achieve whatever I want with the right state of mind. The always knew the right words, the right gestures, to make me feel better.
I thank God every day for graciously blessing me with their love; love that is greater than the depths of the ocean; love that is greater than life itself. I love them very much, and I thank God for that.
- William Shakespeare; Shakespeare in Love (1998)
After seeing a lot of these “repair and transform” clothing posts on Pinterest, I feel a tiny tinge of regret for donating clothes that were never used/ill-fitting to charity. Arghhhhh I knowwwwww, I sound like a self-absorbed, narcissistic btich, and I know that there are people out there who are more in need of shirts and pants, way more than I do.
But sometimes, I just can’t help myself. I see all these possibilities, all the alterations I could’ve done to revamp those clothes and I can imagine them looking sooooo good :(
I just came to the realization that the main reason why I watch White Collar is because of Neal Caffrey, I mean, Matt Bomer.
I did a little experiment this afternoon while watching the show. I tried to get Neal out of every picture/imagined that he had a different features, one that is not similar to his beautifully crafted face. I tried to picture him in a less appealing form, without that ravishing suit (one I’d be willing to rip off of him *cough*) and the show became somewhat of a bore. The show is definitely lucky to have this fine creature on board.