So I’m sitting out outside on the steps near our library and, after for finishing work, for some reason, I look up and around. I see a pond being reconstructed, people passing by, and geese fluttering the background. None of this is significant. This is all but a mere moment in my life, a fraction of time, but it holds just an immense feeling. The sun is warm against the westward wind, zephyr. This is a place of my own that is not where I was born. This is not middle school or highschool. This moment is significant despite it’s length because of the fleeting thought of confirming where I am and who I am. I am eighteen at college, of all places. This thought always takes my breath away, catching me off guard. There is something so beautiful in the idea of being free. Here, sitting outside, doing nothing, confirms that here is where I was meant to be.
when books make you cry like fuck you book you’re a stack of paper
Guys I like always think I hate them cause I always get nervous around them and my first instinct is to say mean things
Do yo work woman!
Lol, u so funnaayyeeee. Don’t tell me what to do ;P
Okay. I’m done. Hwz b4 dem classes
She noticed and made a weird face at me
I must be her biggest fan for blowing her away
Omg are you not on tumblr, now? HAAALLLOOOO
HEY, SAARAA. I SEE YOU. I’M YELLING AT YOU IN MY HEAD FROM ACROSS THE TABLE
Did I ever talk about the time when my TA got sin(theta), wrong? She said that it was opposite/adjacent. I went ballistic, spiraling into an existentialism crisis. Never will I ever entirely trust her teachings again.
We romanticize the people that we like. So much so that we become blinded by our perspective of them. We see them to be the best person ever, even if they may not be, and rationality is nonexistent. Now, is this understanding enough to let go of that person or is blind, irrational happiness okay? Too each his own, I suppose.