If I die young

Just listen to the lyrics.. that's all I'm saying.

Monday Blues

What are Monday Blues?

The sadness & sheer desperation when you wake up Monday morning & find that you're at the same stale desk doing the same mundane task AND YOU HATE IT!

So why do you do it? Why did you chose a career that you hate? Don't hate the world because YOU made the wrong choice.

Sometimes you don't get a choice. Maybe you're still a minor that has to go to school. Be grateful, there are so many children out there that are:

• Child Slaves
• Factory Workers
• Prostitutes
• Child Wives
• Guerrilla Fighters
• [most importantly] fighting stuff like:
• Malnutrition
• Dehydration
• Famine
• Poverty

Do you think those guys had a choice of going to school?

In my country - and most likely many more worldwide - the families have 2 or more children and only one pair of shoes to share amongst them. The education is free but they are not allowed to arrive at school without proper uniform and unfortunately they have to take turns in wearing the one pair so that they might be able to learn something that day.

In South Africa we have a growing nation full of young leaders that thrive on the kinds of opportunities we take for granted.

The fact that you're reading this already tells me that you have enough money to explore the Internet and at leisure which means you must have at least two pairs of shoes in your cupboard, you can also read which is more than some whole countries.

Feeling guilty yet? I hope so, next time you have the Monday blues because you have to go work for a living, think about those thousands of people that would die to be where you are...

Lifelong Friends

Basically the source of my childhood fun; what reflects, what doesn't; what happens when you paint it; why's it so cold; can my cat see himself in him; who's that person always staring back at me, isn't that rude.
When i got older. he did get rude. Started calling me fat with a big nose and lots of acne. He had cracks in his view of me, sometimes he thought i was pretty and other times he changed his mind halfway through tell me.

For some reason I kept going back to him for I thrived on his opinion of me. I felt insecure without it, even more when I did have it.

Don't get me wrong, he's an amazing friend at most, he shows me when i have food stuck in my teeth, he helps me find where my make-up's smudged, he even laughs and cries with me.

My mirror & I are quite inseparable.

uh ohhh...

For some reason I feel like I should be keeping you entertained. You? Who are you? I don't know? There isn't really one person that is all too interested in what I have to say. But I keep thinking I'm letting you down by not posting. I may be rambling but it seems as though the world is in need of some more motivation? I really hope I'll be good at this in the near or distant future. If there are any questions or anyone wanting my help - I can help, I'm not completely useless - please just send me an email or something, I'll be there for you.

Cyanide and Happiness

Change Your Words

Quote Me..

"If I accept you as you are, I will make you worse; however if
I treat you as though you are what you are capable of
becoming, I help you become that."

-- Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe

Past? Done. Present? Working on it. Future? Getting there.

Last night, as I slugged into bed three quarters asleep, I heard my phone ching. Dragging my hand from under my soft pillow and squinting in the foreign light, I looked at the message my best friend from the northern hemisphere had sent me...

"I might be moving again."

You may think: oh what's the big deal? It won't make a difference, you guys aren't even in the same hemisphere anyway, what's the big deal for you. But yes, this meager little statement woke my mind, brain, eyes, and heart. I'm very observant, so I saw that and thought she would've just brought it up in a conversation if she was just moving around the corner or to a different suburb, and it was 11.30pm a time she usually tells me to go to bed and refuses any less, and, the last thing, she kept it simple; too simple. There was no laughing, no "oh well", nothing just tension.

She then tells me that she's moving to California. This means:

1. There's no longer a 1 or 2 hour difference, it's now 10 hours.
2. Skyping will be a bitch and we can't just go to eachother when we need the other.
3. She's now going to be in a new place (sure she's vacationed there) and able to drive.
4. When she can't come to me, she'll turn to someone else and vice versa, time zones will be our enemy.

And there's many more silly excuses why I don't want her to go. Although, I want her to go:

• She'll get a much better education (no offense wales, but you suck).
• She'll be happier in the sun.
• She loves America and wanted to retire there anyway.
• I know it's where she belongs, even though she was born here, grew up in Wales, returned and returned once again back to Wales, she deserves to be American.

(If I'm sounding cheesy please virtually slap me)

So as I almost cried myself to sleep I remembered when I had said the university I wanted to go to, she chose to pursue that aswell. It wasn't something she had to think about, she just wanted it too.

The next day, the ENTIRE day, I learnt all that I could about the University of California. Everything looked amazing until i looked at the fees, oh my torn cows bum! My sister is currently at university and her fees come up to less than R 20'ooo but these fees for UC +insert scared face+ are just over $31'ooo which comes up to a lovely R 210'ooo. 

I felt like crying.. why the hell is america so expensive!!! I could never figure out why american parents were always scared for paying for college!!!

Well this morning, while procrastinating getting up out of bed, I realised that since I was born my parents have been managing a savings account for when I'm 18 and have to buy a car! So if I use that money for UniCa fees instead - I won't need to buy a car as I won't be driving it in SA anyway - then I can afford to go there! I can work a student job after class and over the summer holidays and I''ll have a loving family over there! Its perfect.. Except for one thing, my family over here.

They won't be too impressed if I just get up and leave em behind...

But first, to find out for sure that she is going then where she's going and if I'm still welcome into their family..
And people on't believe me when I say I overthink things.

So that time of year is coming up again, thousands upon thousands of matriculants vibe to the coasts to party their socks off (literally) and basically come so close to death while seeing their closest choms at their very worst. Its a good start to the big bad world out there.

While this party is so epic without parental supervision and people telling the newly elected adults there are still organisations out there to prevent too nasty a shock.

I'll be helping out at the Red Frogs hotline and what we as red frogs do is we help you out the gutter, give you lifts back to your rooms, protect you & even make you morning pancakes for those lovely morning hangovers.

Unfortunately, I am still a minor so I'm not legally allowed to help out in the field but if you're in trouble and need a few red frogs to come to the rescue, you know who to call!

Last Post I Promise!

ok so if you want to see the other winners of the night go to

www.crawfordecho.com

its rad. try it

Jax's Forgotten Teddy

Hey Guys so as you've probably guessed I am still in school so every now and then I will be posting essays and stuff of the likes on here. The story with this is that I've recently moved to a very prestigious school and I was a week late in recieving this project and finding a group, thinking of an idea and the sorts. So I did this alone, well this is actually my second movie, my first failed to the point where i couldn't let people actually see it. What a disgrace.

This one i created in three days, I was offered and extension & on school nights I tried my best to finish it.

Tonight, my grade was privillaged enough to have an OSCARS evening - we all dressed up nicely, us girls in our heels and the dashing gentlemen in slacks. Fun haha - and I walked out beaming as I had won one of these silly plastic nude men. I had won in the category of most origional.

Yes I am that cool, little me; all by myself; an old camera; a matching tripod; 3 nights and an accumulation of 5hours of sleep.

I hope you enjoy it as much as I have.

Love you guys xxx

Dr Seuss (aka Theodor S. Geisel)

"I like nonsense - it wakes up the brain cells. Fantasy is necessay ingrediant in living. It's a way of looking at the wrong end of a telescope . . . and that enables you to laugh at all of life's realities."

So every child who has ever learnt to read  MUST MUST MUST know about Dr Seuss and his nonsense. Whether it be dozens of ways to get Marvin K. Mooney to bed or an oversized feline with a hat on, everyone knows of his work.

The first book I ever read by myself was a 4 in 1 story book with the basic reading in the beginning like "Hop on Pop" and stuff like that. As the pages turned the reading got more and more complex till the words were as long as 'Hallelulah' and "Timbuktu" and going in circles in really small fonts for a first grader.

My favourite story was Marvin K. Mooney Will You Please Go Now!
At first his dad is saying he'll buy her a flying brromstick or a cow or stilts and even an oversized fish to send hiim to bed! He goes on saying he'll send her by Zumble-Zay (an elephant driven cart), a Ga-Zoom or a jet.

And the poor guy only wants his son to go to sleep! The things Dad comes up with are mysetriously wonderful and atlast Marvin feels tired enough to go and choses her transport, unfortunately for Mr Mooney, she chose the simplest option and went by broomstick.

I recently skyped a friend of mine while I found my precious book and halfway through our conversation started reading from the old pages. He unfortunately didn't enjoy it as much as I had and judgingly asked if i had the book as if it was a sin to a social life.

Needless to say we don't speak anymore.

I'm joking, he's just in 'busy' college life now.

Monday Blues

The sadness and sheer desperation when you wake up Monday morning and find that you're at the same stale desk, doing the same mundane task AND YOU HATE IT!

So why do you do it? Why did you chose a career that you hate? Don't hate the world because YOU made the wrong decision.

Sometimes you don't get a choice though. maybe you're still a minor that has to go to school. Be grateful. There are so many children out there that are: child slaves, factory workers, innocent prostitutes, virgin wives, guerrilla fighters and most saddening - to me at least - there are children out there that are struggling to stay alive everyday because of malnutrition, dehydration and famine and the last thing they'll ever receive is an education.

In my country - and perhaps more worldwide - the families that have 2 or more children and only one pair of shoes. The education is free but they arent allowed to arrive at school without proper uniform and unfortunately they have to take turns in wearing the shoes so that they might go to school.

In South Africa, we have a growing nation full of young leaders that thrive on the kinds of opportunities we get. I recently had the opportunity to meet a group of a dozen students from our poorer districts that, after years of struggling with a lack of money for a full education at university, they've been given the opportunity to study medicine in Cuba. The faces of proud parents and overwhelmed students that have never seen an airport before let alone a different country. It was life changing.

The fact that you're reading this blog already tells me that you have enough money to explore the internet and at leisure which should mean that you can afford atleast two pairs of shoes and you can also read which is more than alot of african COUNTRIES!!! Yes whole countries will go without even primary education.

Feeling guilty yet? I hope so. Next time you have the MondayBlues because you have to go to work for a living, think about those thousands of people that would die to be in your shoes...

Toms Shoes: one for one

The Wise Words of Ludwig Wittgenstein

"If people never did silly things nothing intelligent would
ever get done."
-- Ludwig Wittgenstein

If you don't approve of this quote then may I please ask when the last time was that you ever did something wondrously silly? 

And besides.. how important could anything actually be without there being sillyness? So many questions I've asked and the answers seem like such general knowledge but we all need something like obvious questions to bring us back to our own grounds, to help us realise where we are and what in the world we're doing!

Everything needs opposites to understand its complexity, no, not complexity but almost importance? I cant find my words I do apologise! But you understand what i mean?

So now I shall put my silly intelligence to use and start uploading some of my photography to try get you to see through my eyes how this world we live in really is :)

love you guys xxx

Freezing cold in the peaks of the Lesotho Mountains in Southern Africa
with a traditional hat just goofing off. Yes, that is me. Dont feel scared!

Where is the Love?

So this is the Black Eyed Peas back less than a decade ago, do you think they still remember what they used to sing about now that they're singing of good nights with twisted microphones.

Even the good go bad and its just like they say those with an innocent heart will go astray while the guilty concience is lead to the churchyard.

How Do You Comfort a Stranger?

Imagine you’re just walking down a street – preferably a safe one – and you see a girl about your age sitting on some steps. She’s just staring into the distance: not moving, not saying anything, and blinking only when the tears make her eyes too heavy. She’s dressed for something special, and even though it’s cold out, she hasn’t got a jersey and the only thing she has on is a fitted black dress and fishnet stockings, red heels thrown aside.

‘Why is she sitting here?’ you start to wonder. Should you be a gentleman and sit down beside her and let her mouth just empty out her story? Is it too late to pretend not to notice her? Perhaps your best option to get away is to pretend you’ve forgotten something and turn back to find another way home. While, in the time you’ve taken to think, she’s turned towards you with a desperate look in her eyes.

“We enjoy warmth because we have been cold,” stutter her lips. “We appreciate light because we have been in darkness... And in the same sense, we can experience joy because we have known sadness.” A tear breaks through her mascara.

Intrigued, now, at what she has to say, your feet draw mistakenly toward her. Your own silence follows. “Sorry,” she stumbles, “I didn’t mean to disturb you, but the air is too pressing for silence.” She begins to rub away the tears.

Confused yet still silent you’re lost for words, your hands start pointing in different directions, supposedly indicating if you can leave. The look on her face makes you stop and just say “Huh?”

She looks where the moonlight sheds an eerie light on the alleyway, takes a deep breath ready to speak and starts weeping again. You stride toward the alleyway, determined to find the problem, and convert into what she must’ve looked about ten minutes ago. Guys don’t walk down the street prepared for this.

Lying by the wall like a clump of old play dough was a baby. Covered in everything; from dirt to after birth. Through glassy eyes you notice light bruises, and even as horrific as the image is, you can’t push your own eyes away.

That tiny baby was a victim and unknown to be so. Nobody knows what happened to it and nobody knows what to do with it. An inconvenience to everybody.

Opposites Don't Attract

“Sometimes I expect more from others because I’d be willing to do so much more for them.”

Corey and I had been best friends since pre-school and despite our differences we always got along well. She was sociable and fun; I was shy and nerdy. A perfect match. We watched 3 year olds programs on Friday nights, danced to music that everyone hated and laughed at the end of every fight. We were happy.

Until her new best friends: make-up and bra’s, took over her life in high school. I couldn’t compete, they gave her boys and popularity, and I gave her kiddy shows, bad music and embarrassment.

A clichéd sad story, my life could never be extraordinary. Corey started commenting on every detail in my life, always berry this and berry that, she never once uttered a compliment without it benefitting her somehow. I was her shame, and soon I was the awkward cling-on that was obsessed with the popular girl.

A couple years into high school and she'd given me the ‘ignoring’ hint enough: she doesn’t want me around anymore. But our mums were still good friends so Corey would be dragged over to my house a few times a year, as awkward and insignificant as I felt I still had to cater for her.

I still remember that faithful day mum told me we were taking Corey home that afternoon. It was a cold winter day, the frozen air caressing my neck, I was wondering around during lunch break trying to find Miss Popular, secretly hoping that she didn’t put on her bad girl act again.

Break was almost over when I peeked around the corner at the back of the school; confusion hit me like a snowball in the desert. They’d broken into the electricity box and were jabbing at it with what looked like scissors?! I knew they were a bit slow in class but this had become general knowledge since first grade! And the cigarette boxes showed their idiocracy clearly.

I stood there and watched as Skye passed Corey a cigarette and then tried to light it. I stood there and watched as she got electrocuted. I was there when she fell to the floor motionless, and when the others ran away… I was there.

The power had completely paralysed her body: my ex best friend, the popular girl, the smoker. I felt almost as paralysed as she was, had it not been for the puffs of warm air I was exhaling I would’ve thought I was merely a spirit.

By the time a teacher came to see what had happened, I already had the deadly wires in my hands, carefully trying to fix the mess they had made, with the motionless body behind me. I was the guilty party.

Surely enough rumours spread like rain, all of them thinking I was the one who killed her. In a way I did, I didn’t try to stop them, I saw it coming, and I just watched it happen.

Those girls never came forward; and without them I had no witness to confirm my truth, so I was expelled from school. So mum schooled me disappointedly. She lost her friendship along with her goddaughter. I was now a shame to my family. No matter what happened, I was always a shame to someone.

The guilt was too much for me, after all that that stupid girl put me through, this was what she left me with:  guilt, helplessness and a section in the newspaper. Why had I not done anything? Why didn’t I find her faster? Why didn’t I know about her addiction? Why?

The questions came from everyone, especially me. I couldn’t handle it anymore, the staring, the rumours, and the hate. So I tried to join her, tried to ask her a few questions myself. You’d think jumping out a car going 120 mph would do it, wouldn’t you?

Well, wouldn’t you?

"Behind Every Beautiful Thing is Some Kind of Pain"

Creating art and recording history are two very similar things. Art is created with the inspiration or motivation of passionate feelings. Photo-journalism is an art; it starts with a change in history and the photographer merely records it to publish to the world so that they are aware of someones unfortunate happenings so they might be aware and try help in any way.

As an evolving civilisation we need this because without some kind of artist publishing some form of happening, no one will ever know what kind of tragedy is going on in another country, town or even someones life.

Many don't understand the importance of an artwork until it becomes a memory with a story hidden behind. Paintings always hold a story behind them and if someone doesn't know it - there's still a painting that shows a lot about how people are living or coping with whatever's going on.

If war photographers didn't go into Vietnam and capture a monk in flames, who would've known about it? He couldn't have done anything to save him, mainly because he was fighting for what he believed in.

Every photographer gets asked at one point in their career: if a man is drowning, would you capture the moment or would you save him?

That's when artwork gets out of hand.

Byrdes of on Kynde

“Byrdes of on kynde and color flok and flye allways together” he used to tell me, it’s not like I actually under stood it- mainly because it was written in the 16^th century.

Sam was like that, he never made sense until the next day, sometimes the next week. It was infuriating at times while other times I found him really wise. This boy: this blue eyed, tatty clothed, ancient literature lover of a boy was all I had in life.

After 10^th grade I'd had enough of my socialist wannabe lifestyle and ran, to the only place I loved that nobody else knew about, the forgotten orchard behind Thatcher Beach.

A few years ago when my dad was still alive we used to come down to build a tree house in the biggest apple tree we could find. After dad passed away I kept coming here, it was more like a home to me than my real one, after all, this one had dad in it.

Sam knew very little about me but didn’t mind, and vice versa. We came here to get away from everything not drag it along with us, but then again I lived there and he just visited.

Soon my thoughts worried me whenever he came to visit. His back, arms and shoulders were constantly bruised to the point where I’d thought it was a disease. Sam never spoke about it, instead he laughed and adored every moment we had.

We still had our bad days when we would simply sit on the beach with a blanket wrapped around us and just be there appreciating each other’s presence. To me it was the perfect life, never any trouble and the only thing I had to worry about was finding food but then again, I lived in an apple tree. It was all so easy.

Until Sam came scuttling up the ladder – out of breath from running - he asked if we could go sit on the beach for a while. I obediently grabbed the sandy blanket as we headed down.

 My thoughts, like fireworks, gracefully exploded questions with potential answers thrown out at all angles.

We had finally gotten comfy when he started talking. He told me how his father abused him for never being good enough to be his son; he told me how people at school would shy away from him because they saw him as a disease.

He was about to tell me what had caused him to run to the tree house earlier when, suddenly, he wasn’t beside me anymore.

I still think to this day that Sam gave up his will to live after the first round his dad gave him that day, long before the ambulance had gotten there and long before that wretched man had come up with some sick lie about finding him there.

Although I will always know that he was there when I tried to stop everything from happening, I saw the hope in his eyes.

Defining Love..

Can you define love? Its practically impossible, like explaining what water tastes like or nailing jelly to a tree.. it simply can't be done. CanYouDefineLove actually asks the everyday civillian (but of coarse, what else are we?) if they can define it!

Some of the answers have come out quite interestingly..

Letting out virtue every moment.

And a virtues a grace and grace is a girl with mud on her face..

Love is: too complicated for my taste, but that's just me.

I think the entire world can agree that love can be seriously complicated: does he like me as much as i like him? Will he be put off if I try anything? Does he really expect me to be in the kitchen the entire time?! Shut up and stop thinking, it's putting yourself off him.

A chemical reaction in your brain, perhaps worth following through.

Well this person has probably STUDIED THE EFFECTS OF LOVE . . . and I thought you were thinking too hard! But I guess that is probably true, although what we're looking for is more of an emotional view than literal.

Me + My dog

What does this actually tell us? The most..
This simple 3 worded attempt at a sentence tells us what we can compare love to and what it actually consists of:

• Loyalty
• kindness
• patience
• protection
• etc..

Now, just so you know and never forget, remember this little snipbit..

I am fond of pigs. Dogs look up to us. Cats look down on us. Pigs treat us as equals. - Winston Churchill

I have a mask, do you?

Real people have emotions to fit themselves and not the situation. Just because everyone appear to be happy doesn't mean you must too.

I have a mask. What is it hiding?

I have a secret identity that only my past knows about. I have a personality that is only seen in the worst of times. I have a secret me.

My secret me has hope and dreams of something real. She laughs and cries, she's angry and happy. She feels, unlike the being she's trying to be.

The questions we really need to ask ourselves is "why are people so scared to be themselves? Are we ashamed? Are we scared? Or are we just plain insecure?"

When we get scared and paranoid we take those thoughts and shove them into a box in our head, what we don't understand is that they're still there. The only difference is that they're now in a box.

Don't be ashamed of who you are, of you're thoughts, of yourself. People are people, we all go through similar things in life and every ones understanding of each other, some people just prefer to practise a bit of tough love more often than others.

YOU ARE HUMAN!!! PROVE IT!!!

Waffle Time with Jaxx

I'm different, as is everyone else in this world, and not too many of us realise that. They see a clique and instantly relate it to a superficial stereotype from - what they think to be - totally realistic movie characters.

So they turn into that, they try and erase the past, erase emotions that dont fit their new character, erase their entire personality to fit their new lifestyle.
They erase themselves.

It all starts in college. If you're not strong enough to lock out everyones influences then you're not strong enough to live your own live.

Instead you hit college being this robot, programmed to be perfect and happy 23/7. I say only 23 hours because you cant always hide from the truth. You may be trying to hide the heat in a volcano but without a doubt that volcano will blow sometime, when and how big it will be all depends on how much of the truth you alone hide in there.

Afterwards, you're going to feel even more insecure than ever. It'll feel like a guilty bare back preparing for a lashing, like a zebra without stripes, a rat watching an eagle waiting for it to strike.

That's high school for the insecure but for the weak, easy prey, it's different because they are determined to keep themselves mainly because people test them with their character. So they prove bullies wrong, they don't give in to the fake lifestyle but they do get labelled - losers.

Why do we let such miniture bings of society label us? Because someone is taking control and we must agree that most of society likes control. Next time you see sometime taking the wrong kind of control, face it, change it, take it over!

You are the control you want in your own life. Believe it.

Motivate or Deteriorate..

One of the biggest problems I see everyday is the complete lack of motivation. Motivation to do work, to exercise, to finish a project and to sometimes just get out of bed in the morning..  It makes me think how did the human race actually get this far?

In ancient Greece their motivation was probably, "OK if we wake up now we can create a rad orgy by noon!".  In ancient Rome it must've been, "I can leave this guy to live or I can take him to fight the beast this afternoon. We can always do with some more entertainment!". And you can just imagine cave men "I can kill this cute T-Rex and be a hero AND provide for my clan! Two birds with one stone!".

Nowadays it's like "I'll just hire someone to fix that later," "I don't need to go to work tomorrow because they can still pay me for sick leave," and one of the best : "Who needs to pay attention in class? I'll just threaten a nerd to do it for me."

How does this generation get it so wrong? we eat too much or too little.. our super models motivate us to become allergic to fats of any kind.. our younger generations role models are teaching us to pose naked and lap dance gays for something we want! Children are motivated to follow their role models.. is this really what we want of our children..

I have drifted from my true purpose of this blog sesh and the story I wanted to tell you guys happened a few days ago:

A friend of mine was struggling to finish something because he was struggling too work with certain enemies and for some reason  I turned around and half yelled at him to be a baby..
If you think about it babies are the most determined creatures we'll probably ever come across. They are motivated by freedom, they wish to run and talk and just be.

Have you ever watched a baby try walk for the first few times, they fall, A LOT! but they also get up and try again and again and just imagine if we gave up after the first few falls. We'd be crawling around, never able to see the stars because we're too busy staring at dirt..

Next time you're feeling undetermined try thinking of your baby self, think "be the baby" because you ARE that same baby!

Untill next time, bye you big babies :}

Scotts Emulsion..

Whenever i think of growing up that little jingle for Scotts Emulsion starts playing in my head:

"Growing up! Growing up! Groooowing up!                                                    Scott's Emulsion, thank you, you help me to groooooow..."

They made aging seem like the only bad thing that was going to happen was that your clothes didn't fit! How ridiculous if you ask me.. Life is difficult enough as it seems but adding pressure of growing up to the mix and you've got yourself a nice mystery stew for the rest of eternity.

Growing up is like a video game - once you've finally beaten the bad guy and finished the level, you have the next level along with the next bad guy. Sometimes they might give you a few bad guys and sometimes the level's just really hard but as the determined "gamers" as we are, we keep trying until, of coarse, Eskom decides to change your plans.

Every one's going to get to a point in their life when it really does feel like a game, like every time they finish the task at hand there's another waiting to be done. But who says we have to play that game our whole lives?

Try playing the Sims every now and then and just LIVE!!! ok even I must admit that sounds rather odd but what do Sims really do? If they don't like their commands they do what THEY want, they live by their own rules and if they need to pee on the carpet they'll pee on the carpet for gosh sakes! they chose what to do and they're happier.

Be your own character, live how you want and you'll like it.

Real-Eyes..

Every girl walks through life with a mirror in hand and no ones ever around to take it away. well it's time we made a stand for it! Take away the reflectiveness in water, take away the shiny windows, take away the image we dread. In fact, just replace our eyes with something that will see planet earth clearer!

We're all blinded by detailed thoughts that push at our mind, influence our choices, determined to make us crawl into a box. A wise man once said : Life is frittered away by detail. SIMPLIFY! SIMPLIFY!
I find that to be very convincing, as girls we look at a situation and add detail, we'll give it a whole story line if we must! But guys look at something and that's it, if its not plain obvious then its just not there.
Although when it comes to guys liking girls there must be some spirit person that just runs around putting goggles on the guys, their view becomes fogged up and all our girly imperfections are misted away. We can still see every flaw but they can't.

Someday when I plan to meet dear Cupid, I will ask him why? Why he does what he does? Why does he make and break hearts? Why he didn't give some of us a chance? While I'm at it I may aswell ask Aphrodite to be kind and actually share some of her beauty with the rest of us and not just her select favourites..

Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius, and it is better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring .-Marilyn Monroe(1926-1962)

Marilyn Monroe? this is the point where we scoff at how ridiculous it is for a beautiful lady to believe she has any form of imperfection, but its true even she felt ugly at one point in her life. We all need to get to a stage in our lives where we realise what everyones telling you is actually true. You ARE beautiful, you do have nice hair and cute freckles, you're eyes aren't deep shadowfilled holes, but the light that helps you see your incredible beauty.

The problem is, it takes one really specific person to actually make you realise that. And it's not always someone you walk past everyday.



As for now, goodnight pretties. xx