It is the easiest thing in the world for a beautiful woman to find a fuck boy.
To find the man you want, the man that wants to know you, that cares for you. That understands the colour of your eyes. The quiver of your lip when you cry. To know that man he has to be real. And so do you.
In the 21st Century being real is the uncool.
But being cool never led to a warm, fulfilling relationship.
Being real does.
So I am gonna ask, all the real men to please raise their hand.
Keep your hand up if you don't mind that I am overweight,
or not as good as my profile picture, because you wouldn't have swiped if it was honest.
If you don't mind that I might have opinions on politics, religion, sex
If you can handle that you may not be the best sex of my life but that I like you anyway.
Because you are real too. Imperfect.
What I want from you isn't your dick. Not even close.
Or your physical appearance but it would be nice if I liked it.
Because we put a lot of effort into stealing and promoting your best ideas and we expect you to pay for quality service. ALSO we laugh when your sins are profitable. ALSO we will put you in prison if your sins are not profitable. ALSO in capitalism product is you. WELCOME TO THE WEST.
Arachne was a blessed weaver of Greece. People asked her if she had
been taught weaving by Athena herself, the goddess of wisdom. Although
this was meant as a compliment, Arachne became angry. She thought that
her skill was greater than the goddess's.
Hearing of her attitude,
Athena appeared on her doorway disguised as an old woman in a dark
cloak. She asked her to respect the gods and goddesses, but Arachne just
laughed, and said that even if Athena herself challenged her, it would
be an easy win. Athena then revealed herself and challenged Arachne to a
competition. The loser would promise never to weave again.
Athena wove a tapestry of the people of Greece, with Poseidon and Athena over them, deciding w…
Johnny Cash is a hero and a guide.
To travel a life as hard as
his, to create and share so much music and rawness. To not give a fuck
what anyone thinks of you or your creative output.
To feel so much shame for the death of another (his brother) from a
young age, to live with the feeling that it was his fault. Even though
there is no way a child can be responsible for that. It changes a
person. And to love June Carter as deeply as he did, to come through all
that and find success and redemption. He lived as an icon and died to become a legend. Always for me, in my heart.
Eternally my man in black. Mr Cash, your legacy, your creative genius,
you continue to take my breath away.
There is a space you can find. Sometimes.
After you have gone through more than you thought you could bare.
After you have lost and longed, waited and hoped. Only to lose it all again and again.
In that place, sometimes, a little bird sings.
It sings a song of love and life. It is the only true song there is.
The cultural hangover from a judgemental hyperactive society.
I am calling out the western soul. I am laughing in the face of the
anarchy and injustice I see before me. I am demanding something better.
Something that even barely resembling wise mature adults in charge. We
have become all that we once despised. We project our subconscious fears
onto every unknown, be it culture,
person, gender or bump in the night. We see shadows and demons where
there are none. We blame others for our troubles and instead create the
terrorists, mass murders and rapists we so fear by oppressing and
maiming those outside the in group, be it foreigner, woman, Alt-sexual or
single white male.
We turn a blind eye to ethics as long as
the commerce is good. We will happily trade with dictators, sociopaths
and oppressors just so long as the price is right.
that which we are ashamed off. The cultural taboo is death. Our cultural
taboo is authenticity. Our cultural taboo is old age. Nat…
If I free myself from the illusion of legacy.
And realize the truth. That everything I achieve, that I create, will one day, ultimately, be dust.
Then I am able to play openly and whole heartedly in the sands of creativity.
Knowing the tides of time will clear my mistakes as well as my
victories. Leaving behind only the faintest trace of my existence.
In that knowledge I am unafraid, emboldened. To take leaps of faith and
action far greater than the self conscious longings for immortality can
ever truly realize.
How do you know you are making a good life for yourself? Imagine how your story will be told at your funeral and who would speak about their love of you. If you are happy with what you just imagined, then you are on the right track. If not? Get cracking. ♡◇
Surprise surprise teachers want to teach but is seems the education
system has content over crowding issues. No wonder the kids can't focus.
Too much stimuli. So much breadth. Very little depth. And
then we are surprised our students can't write in depth analyses.
never had the distraction free time to show them how. Not to mention
the kids who have chaotic childhoods on top of our chaotic education
system and society.
If we don't give young people clear messages who
will they grow up to become? They definitely don't know.