Life moves on and so should we
moving-on
The great courageous act that we must all do, is to have the courage to step out of our history and past so that we can live our dreams.
Do the things that you always wanted to, without me there to hold you back, don't think just do, more than anything I want to see you go, take a glorious bite out of the whole world
moving-on breakup
Someday being with Dex will be a distant memory. This fact makes me sad too. Its the initial stages of grief that seem to be worst but in some ways, Its sadder as time goes by and you consider how much they're missed in your life.
If you have one parent who loves you, even if they can't buy you clothes, they're so poor and they make all kinds of mistakes and maybe sometimes they even give you awful advice, but never for one moment do you doubt their love for you--if you have this, you have incredibly good fortune. If you have two parents who love you? You have won life's Lotto. If you do not have parents, or if the parents you have are so broken and so, frankly, terrible that they are no improvement over nothing, this is fine. It's not ideal because it's harder without adults who love you more than they love themselves. But harder is just harder, that's all.
moving-on parents
What's past is prologue, and the world awaits.
moving-on the-future
At some point, to counter the list of the dead, I had begun keeping my own list of the living. It was something I noticed Len Fenerman did too. When he was off duty he would note the young girls and elderly women and every other female in the rainbow in between and count them among the things that sustained him. The young girl in the mall whose pale legs had grown too long for her now too-young dress and who had an aching vulnerability that went straight to both Len's and my own heart. Elderly women, wobbling with walkers, who insisted on dyeing their hair unnatural versions of the colors they had in youth. Middle-aged single mothers racing around in grocery stores while their children pulled bags of candy off the shelves. When I saw them, I took count. Living, breathing women. Sometimes I saw the wounded- those who had been beaten by husbands or raped by strangers, children raped by their fathers- and I would wish to intervene somehow. Len saw these wounded women all the time. They were regulars at the station, but even when he went somewhere outside his jurisdiction he could sense them when they came near. The wife in that bait-'n'-tackle shop had no bruises on her face but cowered like a dog and spoke in apologetic whispers. The girl he saw walk the road each time he went upstate to visit his sisters. As the years passed she'd grown leaner, the fat from her cheeks had drained, and sorrow had loaded her eyes in a way that made them hang heavy and hopeless inside her mallowed skin. When she was not there it worried him. When she was there it both depressed and revived him. ~Len Fenerman on stepping back/letting go/giving uppgs 271-272
There comes a point at which you stop giving things up. That is what i won't give up. None of it will i give up, for my beautiful sister Ivy who lies in bed. Ivy who used to be alive. Ivy who used to be. Ivy who used. Ivy who. Ivy-who-is-not-me. Not me. Not me. Not me.
moving-on sisters
She bought seeds and raided nurseries and mulched and composted and spent full days with her hands full of earth, coaxing life our of the dry, dull grass my father had spent years pushing a mower over.
life moving-on coming-of-age
Let Her Go!
Simply put, the best revenge is to live an awesome life.
revenge inspirational moving-on
They say that a part of you dies when a special Loved One passes away..I disagree..I say a part of you lives with your Loved One on the other side.
moving-on inspirational-love death-of-a-loved-one death-and-love
Walk, run, swim, cycle, sprint, limp, climb, fall, dream, think, write, break, build,.. But keep flowing.. Keep moving.
Did my courage make you crazy? Cripple you with the unknown?Did my silence create desire make you feel things you could not discern?Is my shinning light exploding? Can your eyes not yet adjust?Is my forgiveness running through you? Knowing your pain I will not digest?Is my confidence disrupting the girl you LOVE to HATE the most?
chance friendship life victory chaos writing adventure faith happiness genius history art inspire identity creativity stories writing-life passion future past inspirational moving-on living bullying friends self-help believe hate ideas loss writers broken-heart risk writer winning remember artist process writers-block writers-on-writing discovery writing-process insanity lovers never-give-up addiction defeat truths breaking-up love-hurts being triumph journal love-at-first-sight breakups courageous writing-style rising truth-inspirational writers-quotes addicts name-calling broken-hearted-quotes mean lovers-love-story lovers-quarrels lovers-sadness bully youth-age broken-hearted good-morning journaling journalist writers-life writers-world writing-books life-of-artist rise
It is in this darkness that I have found all light somehow become so bright, a shooting star on a stormy night.
chance friendship life chaos writing adventure faith happiness genius history light art inspire identity courage creativity stories writing-life passion future past inspirational moving-on living friends self-help believe hate ideas bright loss writers broken-heart changing risk darkness writer winning remember artist process writers-block writers-on-writing discovery writing-process insanity lovers win addiction truths breaking-up love-hurts being journal star love-at-first-sight breakups writing-style rising truth-inspirational writers-quotes addicts broken-hearted-quotes lovers-love-story lovers-quarrels lovers-sadness youth-age broken-hearted good-morning journaling journalist writers-life writers-world writing-books life-of-artist rise
The white noise in his heart, the sum of all his colors the metronome to which he beat [was she].
chance friendship life chaos writing adventure faith happiness genius history art identity creativity stories writing-life passion future past inspirational moving-on fairy-tales living bullying friends self-help believe hate ideas loss writers broken-heart risk writer remember artist process happy-ending writers-block writers-on-writing discovery writing-process insanity lovers addiction truths breaking-up love-hurts unconditional-love being journal happily-ever-after love-at-first-sight breakups writing-style truth-inspirational writers-quotes addicts broken-hearted-quotes mean lovers-love-story lovers-quarrels lovers-sadness bully youth-age broken-hearted good-morning journaling journalist writers-life writers-world writing-books life-of-artist
.. Just friends, over and over you said it again -then you kissed me.
chance friendship life chaos writing adventure faith happiness history art identity creativity stories writing-life passion future past inspirational moving-on living friends self-help believe hate ideas loss broken-heart risk writer remember writers-block writers-on-writing discovery writing-process lovers addiction truths breaking-up love-hurts being journal love-at-first-sight breakups writing-style writers-quotes addicts broken-hearted-quotes lovers-love-story lovers-quarrels lovers-sadness youth-age broken-hearted good-morning journaling journalist writers-life writers-world writing-books
Head high, heart in hell
chance friendship life chaos writing adventure faith happiness genius history art identity creativity stories writing-life passion future past inspirational moving-on living friends self-help pride-and-prejudice believe hate ideas loss writers broken-heart risk writer remember artist process writers-block writers-on-writing discovery writing-process insanity lovers addiction truths breaking-up love-hurts being journal love-at-first-sight breakups writing-style truth-inspirational writers-quotes addicts broken-hearted-quotes lovers-love-story lovers-quarrels lovers-sadness youth-age broken-hearted good-morning journaling journalist writers-life writers-world writing-books life-of-artist
Our stations in life, our difference of cultures, the pain-laid men who raised us forbid us to be us. They have brainwashed us. We feel we should believe the polarity between us.
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