new leaf. new life.

May 10, 2013

You know how some people are just really talented? Well, I’m not one of them. Watch to see why.

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You want to travel with them. You want to see what they’re like going through airport security, on planes, in strange countries. You want to meet their families and charm them to pieces. You want to nestle into their childhood beds and look around in the dark at all their old posters. You want to see all the embarrassing photos of them with braces and socks pulled up mid-calf. You want to hear all the stories about their drunken nights under the bleachers and their best friend’s jokes. You want to read all their journals, see how they took notes in high school. Did they use pen or pencil? What color highlighter? You want to work with them, just to see them work. You want to go out with them. You want to make out with them in the bathroom. You always want to touch them; you want them to always want to touch you.
You find reasons to disentangle yourself from them; it’s only going to hurt later, you can tell already. You stay up way past your bedtime for them. You look at the clock and know their schedule. You neglect other people and other things, and beat yourself up about it. But it’s like they have a hold of your hands and your voice, and you don’t mind. It’s like you’re trapped in an hourglass; you know your lungs might fill with sand, but there’s something sensual and comforting about the grains sliding down glass walls and pooling around your ankles, your knees, your waist.
You like things about their appearance that the rest of the world may cringe at and call strange, less than perfect. Their broken, reshaped noses; their little teeth or the gaps in between them; the way they pull their hair; their narrow hips; their wide shoulders; the depth of their pores. You can laugh when funny things happen in bed. You usually want to be in bed with them.
You think they’re smarter, better, friendlier, fitter, happier, more productive than you are. You strive to be as much as they are, as good as they are. You try to cheat and figure out what it is they’re going to teach you, if they’re going to fall from grace, if you’re going to play a part for them that you never thought you’d play before. You try and pull patterns and threads of meaning from the conversation or the way they looked at you the first time you met; what they did, what they offered. An apple stolen from the bar. Notes from a guitar. Pitchers of free beer. Pieces of bark with writing on them.
You cherish snippets of them; paste them up in your memories like old faded scrapbooks clutched to chests for generations. Their skin glows black and white in your head. They star in the little short films of your life that sneak up on you when you’re not looking. Like the walk to the South End for dinner on a quiet corner. The feel of the sun beating down on you both at an outdoor concert. The way they ordered wine on your first date. The slow swing of a hammock near a lake. The back seat of their car.
You can see yourself with them in the future you can’t quite see. You build apartments outfitted with all the right kitchen supplies and the perfect bed with two nightstands, each piled with books and magazines. You wait for them patiently while they chase their dreams; they wait for you patiently as you chase yours. You sit in bed eating dinner late at night, drinking tea and wine and whiskey as you tell each other all about the chasing. You create adopted dogs and cats; you have awkward conversations about money; you put up with each other’s crap. You see what they look like standing at the end of a candle-lit aisle in your grassy front yard and wonder if you’ll make it to the other end to meet them or if they’ll just end up in the scrapbook clutched to your chest or flickering on the screen in your brain.

How You Know - Talia Ralph

(Source: victimize)

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May 9, 2013

You’ve got to do what makes you happy.

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind of emotions for me. I jet-set across the country to visit my friends and travel and It was then I realized that I hadn’t been enjoying my life all too much these past few months. I didn’t move across the world to let myself be unhappy. That’s when I decided to make a change.

I am a firm believer in doing what makes you happy. So when I returned to New York, I quit my pretentious, stressful job at a high end luxury brand PR company, I reconnected with those I miss, I moved in to a new apartment mid-town and have changed my mentality of New York.

This city is both amazing and horrible at the same time. The highs are extremely high, and the lows make you lose faith in humanity. But I didn’t move here because of either of those. I moved to New York to grow as a person. To experience life, unsheltered and all by myself.

I moved to New York city to make me happy with who I am and to grow my future. I’ve been here six months now. I’ve got to do what makes me happy.

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Demi Lovato - Shouldn’t Come Back

With Demi’s new album on the leak and due out in a matter of days I thought I would share this song with everyone. It’s perfect, and the first time I heard it I got shivers all over my body.

Everybody, you’re welcome.

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May 8, 2013

theeuphoricfox:

Skype date with Jake!

Skype date with Daniel!

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April 28, 2013

New York has taught me how to be alone*.

As I walked around Central Park by myself today I came to a realisation; New York has taught me how to be lonely. It’s amazing how a city with so many people can make you feel that way. But that’s what’s so special about this place.

Before moving here I wasn’t good at being by myself. I’m a very social person. I’ve always needed to have people around me, I need to talk, I need validation, I need it all to exist or I feel irrelevant. I moved to this country and city with nothing. I knew very little people, and I knew even less about what I was getting myself into.

I don’t think I’ll ever look back on my life and think that moving over here was a mistake. Regardless of how I feel, my happiness or whatever, this experience has taught me so much about myself, and I wouldn’t change it for anything.

*EDIT: New York hasn’t taught me to be lonely, it has taught me to be alone. Upon reflection, there is a big difference.

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April 25, 2013

I take you all with me for three days around San Francisco with my friend Ally. We sightsee, get pedicures, become intoxicated (on several occasions) and enjoy the sunshine!

PS: I promise I’m not an alcoholic.

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April 21, 2013

I’m in love with San Francisco

Right now I’m sitting in San Francisco airport, waiting for my flight to Vegas after an amazing four days here. I really needed this little trip. I’ve spent my time sight seeing with my Australian friend Ally and her parents.

Having a slice of home over here has really helped. Running around like crazy with my girlfriend from back home has brought me back to my roots. Thank god, before New York consumed my soul. If you read my last post I was feeling pretty defeated.

I love San Francisco. It’s vibrant, crazy, fun, youthful and simply beautiful. The streets are littered with bat shit crazy people, the roads are lined with flourishing trees and the suburbs in the city are full of picturesque houses. This is my kind of place. I would be lying if I said I haven’t been thinking of making another move. A highly strung person like myself living in a highly strung city like New York will be the death of me.

This city electrifies me. I feel as though I can breathe again (when hay fever isn’t raping my sinuses). Maybe New York was a bit too ambitious?

But then again, I am on vacation.

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April 20, 2013

Jumping for joy at my favourite city in the world.

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April 15, 2013

Moving to New York has taught me many things about life. Here is some of them…

I also take you on a brief tour of Central Park.

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April 13, 2013

Tonight, I’m a B-Boy

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April 12, 2013

Your dreams come at a price

Here I am, sitting in Chipotle by myself, blogging from my phone on Fifth Avenue. I had a day off from work today, which I really needed. It seems that all I do these days is work.

I’m going through a really rough patch here in NYC. I’m just finding life really difficult. I’m apartment searching, working a new job in PR that is really testing me, and I just don’t really have the support I need. Maybe I’m not as independent as I once thought?

I spent the day today wandering around Central Park alone to clear my mind, and it just made me upset. Here I am in this amazing city and I’m shedding tears over my frustrations.

I really do miss home. I miss having friends who are always there for me, having my own space, not rushing from place to place, not dodging getting trampled on the street, and just feeling loved. I miss that the most.

I know things will perk up in the next few weeks. You can’t really have the highs without the lows. I’m off to San Francisco next week anyway. Life can’t be all that bad. I just wish that someone told me that my dreams would come at a price.

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