“If you carry y…

Quote

Beauty is not a physical image but a eternal and internal characteristic

Imperfect Writer: My Journey to Finding Myself

“If you carry yourself right, you will look right”

Glancing upon a picture today, I saw a beautiful heavy set girl with her boyfriend. Many was making fun of her, commenting on how big she was, or how her dress didn’t look right cause it was not meant for a curvy frame. A silent rage bubbled up in me when reading how these people concentrated so much on her looks, but they could not for the life of them see the gorgeous smiles that she shared with her boyfriend (who to some believed to be quite handsome). 

When has beauty ever been bound to a particular image, when I look at greek sculptures of beauty even these lovely women had back flab, even they had slightly thick legs and cheeks. When I look at the paintings, and even Popular icons like Marylin Monroe (who is not skinny as some believe)…

View original post 69 more words

Advertisements

“If you carry y…

Quote

“If you carry yourself right, you will look right”

Glancing upon a picture today, I saw a beautiful heavy set girl with her boyfriend. Many was making fun of her, commenting on how big she was, or how her dress didn’t look right cause it was not meant for a curvy frame. A silent rage bubbled up in me when reading how these people concentrated so much on her looks, but they could not for the life of them see the gorgeous smiles that she shared with her boyfriend (who to some believed to be quite handsome). 

When has beauty ever been bound to a particular image, when I look at greek sculptures of beauty even these lovely women had back flab, even they had slightly thick legs and cheeks. When I look at the paintings, and even Popular icons like Marylin Monroe (who is not skinny as some believe) are they not beautiful. These people, paintings, and icons were not called beautiful because they held an image, but because they held a character, a trait, a wisdom. 

It doesn’t matter if your the most beautiful person in the world, if you have not done anything for people to remember your beauty. Beauty is not set to an image, but changes from person to person and culture to culture. 

Merry Christmas or Xmas or Happy Holidays or Happy Nothing to most!!!

Standard

   In my household we eat on Christmas Day and open our presents on Christmas Eve. Why? I don’t really remember why but ever since I was small I remember opening my presents a day earlier than everyone else I knew. Christmas Eve was Christmas Day to me, the family came together, we had dinner, the christmas tree was alight, we sung carols and songs, spoke of christmases gone past and opened lovely wrapped boxes and presents that sat decoratively under the tree. We would smile, laugh, debate and even sometimes fight on Christmas Eve more than we did on Christmas Day.

  But for some reason this Christmas was different, not because of the lack of presents under the tree, the baby boomer that often complained and pitied herself for being pregnant or their loud children than ran about the house without care. No it was different because I was, I have gotten to the point where I don’t care anymore if I was alone or with them. Because I realized that no matter how many Christmases went by, I was still alone, different. During their christmas laughter, I knew my words, my thoughts, my ideals was nothing like my grandparent’s or father’s. What he believed was not what I believed. 

  And for some reason, turning 20 this year I yearned more than ever to be released from my parent’s. I yearned for freedom, I yearned for my own space, for my own experiences. To no longer be seen as a child. I yearned to step outside of my box and for once discover the world without commentary of my parent’s. Maybe its rebellion, maybe its hormones. But I wish to be different for once and not to be looked upon, or corrected because I’m different. Even the littlest things bug me now. Even the littlest difference of opinion tugs at my strings. I have become defensive somewhat and easily angered, not because they disrespect me but because I feel as if they wish to tie me and wrap me in a bow of familiarity. As if they refuse to let me be me.

  So I don’t eat fat on the bone, or I don’t eat everything thing that’s offered so what, why does it matter how much or how little eat. So sometimes I like being alone and not being around my family. Why should it bug them. I understand Christmas is a time for family. But sometimes pushing yourself to be something you have no desire in being at that moment is not healthy. Sometimes I yearn to be myself, to be myself, to have myself. Constantly putting myself out there for others is tiresome.

 I know this isn’t a very happy Christmas message, but its mine. Merry Christmas to all the loners, Happy Xmas to all the individuals. Happy Holidays to all the mes and Happy Nothing to everybody!

 

Allergic to fights (Sorry its really weird post)

Standard

Fighting and Loving… what can I say

Imperfect Writer: My Journey to Finding Myself

I think I’m allergic to fights, spats, moments of tension in places where peace should settle to stitch it’s lovely lullabies into blanketed dreams of past wishes for the children of men. Cause every time like magic, like clockwork, like *snap*! I feel my eyes lifting its weighted wings of lashes, I feel my body breath into itself filling my heavy leaded lung with air and fire like twitches throughout my fingers and toes like a firework set up on warm July nights. 

Cause every time I hear my parent’s voices raise into agonizing cries of attention, anger and disappointment. I arise, to hear their calls, their barking, their soundless tears. I arise because somehow my sleep is fully driven upon the power of calmness, of eruptions snoring,  of violent kicking of night terrors and smiling tears of dreams. 

Now whether that means that I am a utterly happy person…

View original post 642 more words