Stay a bit mysterious, a friend told me. Don't even try to change so that others would accept you. As the years pass, you realize that other things don't matter as much as what you carry within.
Christmas is much more than simply a day. It is a state of mind, an uplifting, spiritually charged season that changes many people into joy-filled, happy adult-children.
We should do what we love more often. We should also care less about what other people think. These wonderful heads of ours can conjure up quite bizarre thoughts, which often catch us like a spider web, and it's difficult to avoid it.
When you're twenty, you hang out with your girlfriends every day, so perhaps you don't appreciate these hours of freedom and laughter as much, because you take everything for granted. Now, I know exactly how precious these moments are and how time passes by ev...
I'm thinking about scars and the way life marks us and the way we lick our wounds just like animals; at first, we're certain they won't heal, but we forget about them entirely in a couple of years.
So that's why today, for no special reason, in my night gown and a Cosmopolitan in my hand, I'm wistfully thinking about how the best things in life are free.
The impossible is required of us: constant perfection and 36-hour days. We are often so broken up and fragile on the onside that it makes me wonder how we don't each have our own therapist yet, a therapist for the soul.
I fill my lungs to the brim with fresh summer air, which continues its way into my bloodstream. I really associate myself with summer and so it's difficult for me to let go.