The Walkman was a staple piece in your outfit.
It’s an impossible experience to describe to someone; they just had to live it.
It’s okay to take a hundred selfies, because you don’t like the way that you looked in the first ninety-nine of them.
What happened to you wasn’t fair. What happened to your family wasn’t fair. Nothing about your death was fair.
If I could jump inside your head and slap your inner critic, I would in half a heartbeat.
When I am asked if I will ever have children of my own, my response has gone from a timid “don’t judge me” reply, to simply saying no. Sometimes just one word is the biggest truth we can ever tell.
My world stops as I see a picture of you. I can’t move for the rest of the day. The taste on my tongue instantly turns sour when I kiss another lover.
This behavior is not only dangerous but stifling to innovation and the development of new ideas.
Growing up around chaos, I learned to feel comfortable amidst upheaval, uncertainty, and shifting expectations and demands. That was my norm. Stillness was distressing and silence was panic-inducing.
Fake tan, fake nails, fake boobs, fake food, fake people, fake things of any kind kill your soul, not to mention your wallet.