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Well it’s been hard to figure out

…. Where I’m going

Tags: sam woolf
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I knew exactly what love looked like
in seventh grade
.
Even though I hadn’t met love yet
if Love had wondered into my homeroom,
I would’ve recognized him at first glance.
Love wore a hemp necklace.

I would’ve recognized her at first glance.
Love wore a tight french braid.
Love played acoustic guitar,
and knew all my favorite Beatles songs.

Love wasn’t afraid to ride the bus with me.

And I knew,
I just must be searching the wrong classrooms;
just must be checking the wrong hallways.
She was there, I was sure of it.
If only I could find him.

But when Love finally showed up,
She had a bullcut.
He wore the same clothes every day for a week.
Love hated the bus.
Love didn’t know anything about the Beatles.

Instead,
Everytime I tried to kiss Love,
our teeth got in the way.
Love because the reason I lied to my parents.
I’m going to… Ben’s house
Love had terrible rhythm on the dance floor,
but made sure we never missed a slow song. 

Love waited by the phone,
because she knew if her father picked up
it would be, (heavy breathing)
“Hello, hello… I guess they hang up.”

And Love grew…
Stretched like a trampoline.
Love changed.
Love disappeared
slowly, like baby teeth
losing parts of me I thought I needed.

Love vanished like an amateur magician,
everyone could see the trapdoor but me.
Like a flat tire,
there were other places I had planned on going

but my plans didn’t matter.

Love stayed away for years.
And when Love finally reappeared,
I barely recognized him.

Love smelled different now,
had darker eyes,
a broader back.
Love came with freckles I didn’t recognize,

new birthmarks,
a softer voice.
Now there were new sleeping patterns,
new favorite books.
Love had songs that reminded him of someone else;
songs Love didn’t like to listen to
so did I.

But we found a park bench that fit us perfectly.
We found jokes that make us laugh.
And now Love makes me fresh homemade chocolate cookies.
But Love will probably finish most of them for a midnight snack.

Love looks great in lingerie but still likes to wear her retainer.
Love is a terrible driver but a great navigator.
Love knows where she’s going,
it just might take her two hours longer than she planned.

Love is messier now;
not as simple.
Love uses the word ‘boobs’ in front of my parents.
Love chews too loudly.
Love leaves the cap off the toothpaste.
Love uses smiley messages in her text messages
And turns out,
Love shits.

But Love also cries.
And Love will tell you, “You are beautiful.”

And mean it.
Over and over again,
“You are beautiful.”
When you first wake up,
“You are beautiful.”
When you’ve just been crying,
“You are beautiful.”
When you don’t want to hear it,
“You are beautiful.”
When you don’t believe it,
“You are beautiful.”
When nobody else will tell you,
“You are beautiful.”
Love still thinks,
“You are beautiful.”

But love is not perfect,
and will sometimes forget,
when you need to hear it most,
“You are beautiful.”
Do not forget this.

Love is not who you are expecting.
Love is not what you can predict.

Maybe Love is in New York City,
already asleep.
You are in California, Australia,
wide awake.
Maybe Love is always in the wrong timezone.

Maybe Love is not ready for you.
Maybe you are not ready for Love.
Maybe Love just isn’t the marrying type.
Maybe the next time you see Love is twenty years after the divorce.
Love looks older now but just as beautiful as you remembered.

Maybe Love is only there for a month.
Maybe Love is there for every firework,
every birthday party,
every hospital visit.

Maybe Love stays.
Maybe Love can’t.
Maybe Love shouldn’t.

Love arrives exactly when Love is supposed to.
And Love leaves exactly when Love must.

When Love arrives,
say, “Welcome, make yourself comfortable.”
If Love leaves,
ask her to leave the door open behind her,
turn off the music,
listen to the quiet,

whisper, “Thank you for stopping by.”

Photo
humansofnewyork:

"I’m trying to figure out what direction I should be moving in.""What direction are you currently moving in?""I’m not sure I’m moving."

humansofnewyork:

"I’m trying to figure out what direction I should be moving in."
"What direction are you currently moving in?"
"I’m not sure I’m moving."

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theblackworkshop:

Aerial view of parked jets at an airport

theblackworkshop:

Aerial view of parked jets at an airport

(via middlechildcomplex)

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humansofnewyork:


Dear Brandon,
My boyfriend had given me a copy of your book as a gift for our sixth anniversary today. Curiously perplexed by his uncharacteristic gesture, I observed the pages to come across a photo of us, standing on 42nd street, exactly one year earlier. Shock sprawled across my face and emotion flooded my heart. My mind wandered back to the six months that had preceded this night, which had relentlessly challenged our hearts and nearly broken our bond. It was this night, on our fifth anniversary, that we vowed not to give up; and it was this night that began the start of our greatest year together. I never imagined that I would be staring into this moment again. A moment so fleeting that it had escaped us, lost to the chaos of our times; yet here it is, so beautifully captured and for all the world to see. Though we may be strangers, you have given us the greatest gift of all. Thank you so very much. 
With much love,
Eika

The power of a photograph.

humansofnewyork:

Dear Brandon,

My boyfriend had given me a copy of your book as a gift for our sixth anniversary today. Curiously perplexed by his uncharacteristic gesture, I observed the pages to come across a photo of us, standing on 42nd street, exactly one year earlier. Shock sprawled across my face and emotion flooded my heart. My mind wandered back to the six months that had preceded this night, which had relentlessly challenged our hearts and nearly broken our bond. It was this night, on our fifth anniversary, that we vowed not to give up; and it was this night that began the start of our greatest year together. I never imagined that I would be staring into this moment again. A moment so fleeting that it had escaped us, lost to the chaos of our times; yet here it is, so beautifully captured and for all the world to see. Though we may be strangers, you have given us the greatest gift of all. Thank you so very much. 

With much love,

Eika

The power of a photograph.

Video

Sweater Weather, The Neighbourhood

the black and white, lots of great moments of light in this video

Video
Photo
humansofnewyork:

"When he was dying, I said: ‘Moe, how am I going to live without you?’ He answered: ‘Take the love you have for me, and spread it around."

humansofnewyork:

"When he was dying, I said: ‘Moe, how am I going to live without you?’ He answered: ‘Take the love you have for me, and spread it around."

Text

A Hundred Indecisions

“It is a bit of a cliche to characterize life as a rambling journey on which we can alter our course at any given time - by the slightest turn of the wheel, the wisdom goes, we influence the chain of events and thus recast our destiny with new cohorts, circumstances, and discoveries. But for the most of us, life is nothing like that. Instead, we have a few brief periods when we are offered a handful of discrete options. Do I take this job or that job? In Chicago or New York? Do I join this circle of friends, or that one, and with whom do I go home at the end of the night? And does one make time for children now? Or later? Or later still?
In that sense, life is less like a journey than it is a game of honeymoon bridge. In our twenties, when there is still so much time ahead of us, time that seems ample for a hundred indecisions, for a hundred visions and revisions—we draw a card, and we must decide right then and there whether to keep that card and discard the next, or discard the first card and keep the second. And before we know it, the deck has been played out and the decisions we have just made will shape our lives for decades to come.” 
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aseaofquotes:

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated

aseaofquotes:

Jonathan Safran Foer, Everything is Illuminated