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Everything looks bad.
But you can do it.
Shower.
Get out of the bed.
It’s alright, it’s alright.
Cry if you have to.
But once you’re done,
Go wash your face.
Do you have a mirror?
Find one.
Tie your hair.
Put on some lipstick.
Now stand in front of the mirror.
Keep standing
Stand still.
Stand.
Stand till you laugh.
Till you burst out laughing
At yourself
At your problems
At the triviality of life.

Everything looks bad,
But as long as you’re laughing
You will survive it.

Found this note in my phone crudely written sometime in April 2017 titled as 'A Note to You, Fighter.' April was one of the most dreadful month in the history of all months I've been living till now. Glad I have a photograph full of laughter of my current day to go along with this note.
Indeed,
As long as you’re laughing
You will survive it :)

When he first felt that little hand clasp tightly around his finger-- saw those soft pink, tiny hands next to his-- his life changed as he knew it. In that moment, that single touch-- he was no longer the most important person in his life. He no longer thought first of what he wanted-- what he needed-- because everything had changed. Now, it was completely and beautifully about her. He hadn't asked for it. He hadn't even known he'd wanted to be a father. But it had happened. And wasn't that just like the universe-- to give him exactly what he never knew he always wanted. They had told him a lot of things. He'd heard parents talking of their children. He'd seen the pride and the sparkle in their eyes. But he had never understood-- never could have understood-- until her eyes gazed up into his. And he saw his own looking back at him. She was this beautiful, helpless, piece of him. And he knew in that moment that he'd do anything to make her smile. To protect her. To give her-- and show her-- the world. To make sure she was better and stronger and more successful than him. To make sure she made mistakes and knew how to pick herself up, dust herself off, and keep going. He wanted it all for her. His girl. She had been the first to hold his hand. To awaken that surge-- that pride-- within him. But he'd hold hers, too. When she was four or fourteen or thirty four. When she fell and hurt her knee-- to when she would fall hopelessly and totally in love. Yes. She had made him a father. A dad. He leaned in, as he would for a lifetime, and he whispered to her. I'll always be here, baby. Always. Take risks. Take chances. Live happy and whole and drink deeply from life. And just know, sweet girl-- that I'm here. Whenever and wherever you may need me along your journey. Live this life well, sweet girl. Live it well. 💛 // July 2017 Theme: Just do #whatfeedsthesoul ------------------------------------------------- #liveinthedetails #thecaptionwriter #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #writersofig #writer #soul #inspire

I believe in so many things. My faith, the core of being alive in walking by what I know and not what I see. Even if I don't know where my feet may fall, I still walk and believe my direction will fall before my mind can comprehend where I am. I don't always get it right, and I seem to venture into unknown and dangerous places for the sake of giving love. But I still trust that my journey has a meaning in some small way. I am too kind sometimes, my heart never learns when to stop caring or loving. My heart has the scars to prove it. And I'm proud of them. I know them each by name, I never forget. My heart is a home, a safe haven. Anyone is welcome to come live here. Even if you have left and gone away, you will always have a home to come back to. I could not cut you off, I do whatever is necessary to keep it from going that far. But life happens and sometimes it's necessary. I have this trouble in letting go. I've known it since I was young, since my heart first broke. I don't wish for people to leave my life. I want them to stay forever. Like a little child who holds onto their blanket for safety. It is necessary for certain happiness until it's taken away. Then we learn. Oh do we learn. I am so complicated, I don't understand myself sometimes and I fail to see why love is lacking in others. I wish to give it to whomever I can. I have so much to give. The risk of heartbreak doesn't phase me, it used to, but I'm stronger now and I'd rather get broken again just to have the chance to give a piece of myself to someone who truly needs it. I will always be complicated I guess and it's possible I will never learn or just choose to ignore. I could not apologize for being what I'm meant to be. I don't want approval anymore like I used to. I used to need it, and if I didn't have it I would change. I was so silly and naive, I didn't know how to be me. But now I am, and some days it's so hard to BE. All of this human, it's hard. To be compassionate and see the broken suffering and knowing I can't mend them. This life is so complicated and confusing. I wish it were different, happier. But I do what I can do be more for others. To give some sunshine where it is needed.

• they're eating me alive.

My darling Hazel,

I struggle with this baffling concept of Time. Here you are, already 6 months old, all juicy thighs and eyes of cornflower; yet, only three breaths ago you were nothing but a shriveled peanut, roaring mightily at your new home, furious your floopy muscles refused to cooperate with your iron will.

Although you’re mastering skills at an alarming rate, your limits frustrate you. You see arms as bars. People as prisons. You must be allowed to explore. You want to crawl so badly, so much that learning to sit up is of no interest, despite your parents’ best efforts.

You are utterly besotted with your feet, which makes changing your diaper a real treat, what I imagine Crocodile Dundee must’ve felt like wrestling alligators.

You spend the majority of the day in your “boat,” scooting around our shoebox of a place, bashing into every man, woman, pet, and obstacle imaginable. And you love it.

Making you smile has become my life’s mission.

Your cheeks are so plump they nearly obscure your mouth, which is the tiniest truffle you’ll permit me to kiss if I time it perfectly.

At night, before I pick you up to feed you, I spend several minutes just staring at you, memorizing your shape. I stroke your fleshy palms, the divot at the base of your skull. I pull you into my heart’s memory.

You smell like honey, falling stars, and that first intoxicating stretch in the morning.

You’ve just begun sleeping on your side, which is so cute I can hardly bear it. Your Daddy and I like to joke that you are becoming a real human.

I continue to struggle with wanting to give you plenty of space to be everything that you are, while knowing you are the only baby I’ll ever have, and you never were a baby at all.

Some days I think I could be doing much better, other days certain I’ve won motherhood, but mostly I just know I’m doing the very best that I can.

Every day I have to destroy the illusion of how I thought this would be in order to make room for what IS. And it is wonderful and hard and magic. REAL MAGIC.

My love, you are a wild thing.

Mighty and fierce, and the most challenging human I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.
With my whole heart,
Mama

Templanza, valor e inteligencia

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For #shayverlee6wordstory the prompt is #slice 🌳🌲 Thank you @jamesfahyauthor and @theconstantvoice for this fabulous challenge. 😊😊
'Nature measures time, don't waste yours' I often think that we have the time right in front of us, mobile phones, iPads, computers, watches, all tell us the time. We know it's going quickly too. Christmas is coming!! 🎄🎄 I'm always fascinated to see a slice of life laid bare, the years measured in front me, such as in this tree trunk. 🌳

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Your hard work will vanish all your chaos. 😎😇

You keep saying I'm lonely,
But y'all don't really even know me,
All I need is me plus myself,
Throw everything else on a shelf,
God's got my back so I can be in the front,
As long as I walk like he wants me to walk,
And talk like he wants me to talk
I keep trying to help but you just say it's my fault,
Everything you say makes my heart want to hault,

I regret all the feelings I caught,
It was a crazy thought,
I'm not perfect but hey I tried,
Honestly the nights after I cried,
So now I guess I'm a loner,
It's better than a stoner,
If you were mine,
Nevermind,
It's just me and myself,
Put love on a shelf,
The same people come back, "why you like this?"
Y'all made me this,
Don't create a problem,
Then be mad about the problem,
Cut me off,
Then be like "why we never talk"
You had me loving you,
Now I wonder why did I ever love you,
John the loner,
I'll wear that all summer,
I don't care,
I'll be rare,
Nobody's like me,
No one will ever be,

You keep saying I'm lonely,
But y'all don't really even know me,
All I need is me plus myself,
Throw everything else on a shelf,
God's got my back so I can be in the front,
As long as I walk like he wants me to walk,
And talk like he wants me to talk
I keep trying to help but you just say it's my fault,
Everything you say makes my heart want to hault,

Here's my heart,
Just take it and run,
The chase is part of the fun,
I'm not done,
I don't sip rum,
I'm not good at finding a sum,
But I'm good at what I do,
I push through,
Just roll with me,
You'll see,
I still love you,
You were never true,
I'll get through,
You keep saying I'm lonely,
But y'all don't really even know me,
All I need is me plus myself,
Throw everything else on a shelf,
God's got my back so I can be in the front,
As long as I walk like he wants me to walk,
And talk like he wants me to talk
I keep trying to help but you just say it's my fault,
Everything you say makes my heart want to hault,

Things she and I speak too much about:
¤ Boys
¤ Boys masquerading as men
¤ Jonas Hall
¤ Love
¤ Cheating partners
¤ Metaphors
¤ Words that need to exist ¤ Friendship
¤ Sugar
¤ Books ¤ Paulo Coelho
¤ People who don't know how to be people
¤ People who don't know how to be
¤ How to be
¤ Our shared stalker
¤ Childhood
¤ Eating disorders
¤ Personality disorders
¤ Mood disorders
¤ Jude Law
¤ Law
¤ Waitressing
¤ Marriage
¤ Coffee
¤ Sandwiches
¤ Sex
¤ Unhappiness
¤ Insecurities
¤ Star Scar
¤ Kareoke
¤ Routine
¤ Family
¤ Heartbreak
¤ Religion
¤ Faith
¤ Emptiness
¤ Job hunts
¤ Letters we write
¤ People we are grateful for
¤ Salman Khan
¤ Koramangala
¤ Bangalore
¤ Hydrabad
¤ Kuwait
¤ Canada
¤ New York
¤ St. Anthonys
¤ Prayers
¤ Hope
¤ Defeat
¤ Goodness
¤ Beauty
¤ Being brave
¤ Haircuts
¤ Stupid decisions
¤ What EXACTLY the problem with us is
¤ Disappointment
¤ Changes
¤ Roomates
¤ Cake
¤ Horoscopes
¤ August
¤ Wednesdays
¤ Leos
¤ Regrets
¤ Hexyle, the word and the way
¤ Life
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#soulsisters #bestfriend #bff #conversation #life #justyouandi #friendship #friendshipgoals #writersofinstagram #writer #girlwhowrites #creativewriters #wordporn #words #writersofig #writerscommunity

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