With Eyes Wide Open and Trembling Hands

Sweet Breezus, that's good.

I'm a chaser, to put it simply. The most noncommital person you will ever meet. Buddhist beliefs but a Jewish community. I know who I am but not where I walk.

I'm just a little too addicted to Pokemon, Harry Potter, Brand New, and linguistics.

Wholeness over happiness. Live for you unabashedly. This world is yours.
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Forget the Rabbit. Follow these.

No one should be judged because of their perspective. Every coin has two sides. Heads and tails, though opposites, are equal. Perspectives and people are the same. Let people think what they will; do not attempt to sway them. Truth is, after all, relative. So follow your truth as long as it leads you to wholeness - not happiness - and change willingly when necessary. Do not punish others for having different beliefs or following their own path. Be responsible for you, love yourself wholeheartedly, and let the world revolve as it will. This is the path to greatness, freedom, and peace.

I did so much. I killed myself trying to fix us. I sacrificed, bled myself dry, and still found energy to give you love. And none of it mattered. Absolutely none of it. Eight months of giving you my resources and time has turned into this. “She’s beautiful and smart, but she wants too much attention.” 

You bet I want you to notice me. I want you to cease what you are doing whenever I walk into a room because my presence takes your breath away. I want you to be in awe of me, to know that when I smile at you and kiss your nose that that is a sign that I love you and you will be goddamned if you aren’t the luckiest man in the world. I want you to see the moon in me — yes, I have my phases, but I am constant underneath the darkness. I want you to take my hand in yours and hold me when we watch movies because even mundane activities are meaningful when you are in love.

I want(ed) you to love me. That is it. Nothing more, nothing less. I do not desire the world, I do not require the impossible, and I sure as hell do not demand the unreasonable. This is love, and if you are not tripping over yourself every day because I chose to be with you, then you don’t fucking deserve me. Not now, not before, and certainly not in the future.

If I have learned one thing, it is this: find someone who worships you the way that you should worship yourself and damn the rest. Damn. The. Rest.

I’m shocked that I still have followers. What are you guys still doing here?

Instead of asking myself, “Why doesn’t he love me? Why doesn’t he fight for me?” I will ask myself, “Why don’t I love myself enough to walk away? Why don’t I fight for myself for a change?”

No more depending on him to supply me with love. That is my job.


Europe - inspired by (x)

My bucket list

Take me back <3



One of the BEST YouTube comments

(via me-sexual)

My problem is that I hold on to things that I should let go. I always think that I can change the outcome of the past, that if I could just work harder and communicate more that all the problems that I’ve had will disappear. I’ve finally learned that this is not true. I cannot change a damn thing. I couldn’t change Juanmi’s mind to come to America when we were still together, and I could barely change his mind this time. With Chris, I could never get him to understand what I needed from him to feel loved. Now I see that maybe I’m not supposed to change things; maybe I’m supposed to simply accept them for what they are and decide that they are not for me.

Yes, I would love to have things different. I would love for Chris to suddenly do the things that I need from my boyfriend. I would love for Juanmi to come visit me and have us finally get some closure and part as friends. I would love to have my cake and eat it too. But I’m finally understanding that these things cannot happen, will not happen, and that it is absolutely okay to let go of them and view them as things that I cannot control.

I have been miserable for too long over the past. Now, it is time that I look at the present and the future, and let happen what will happen.

I’ve finally decided that I will not be an author because I hate writing out descriptions.

Playwright it is.

Loads of friends, piles of fun, and lots of love.

Twenty-three looks good on me.

Teachers need to tell their students in language class that unless they can have a full, coherent conversation, they cannot speak that language. I’m so tired of people telling me that they speak Spanish and as soon as I ask a simple question like where they learned it, they just stare at me and say my vocabulary is too big.

You don’t know a language until you can comprehend it orally and respond.

I’ve always had long hair. When I was young, my dad told me, “Cute girls have short hair and beautiful girls have long hair.” I’ve always believed it to be true, and preferring to be beautiful over cute, I kept my hair past my shoulders.

Then, I realized how much hold my hair had over me. It kind of scared me to see how attached to it I was. To hair, of all things. It’s always had this power over me, telling me, “Hey, you can’t be beautiful or feminine without me!” And it’s not true. I can be both of those things with shorter hair and even with no hair.

So I kicked it to the curb. And I already feel better than I ever did with long hair, because now I am free from society’s judgments based on hair length.

Yes, I am obsessed with Bruno Mars, and no, I will not apologize.

Because we’re cute, that’s why.

There is no such thing as “harder.” Things are just “hard.” Telling your spouse you have a tumor is hard, just like telling your family you’re gay or going to school after your friend died. One is not harder than the other; they’re all just hard. Stop comparing your difficult experience to those that others face.
Paraphrase of Ash Beckham