le problème c'est que je t'aime

Yes, my heart is broken
but that is okay.
I'm saving up my happiness
for a rainy day.

No, I don't need fixing.
I don't miss love at all.
The awkward bits, the loneliness,
The way, in love, you "fall"

I'm not much for emotion.
I certainly don't like pain.
For me, myself and I,
Love is nothing like a "gain"

I'm better off without him.
No, I don't miss love at all.
Even on my saddest nights,
I'm not waiting for his call.

I don't need a man to hold me.
I don't want a better half.
Loving him was hurting.
Now I'm smiling. Now, I laugh.

Yes, I'm glad I met him.
Yes, we had good times.
I never will forget him-
He's inspiring these rhymes.

So now I'm moving forward.
I've been sad but now I'm fine
I don't want a fairy-tale ending
I just want my life to be...
                                       mine?

tu es triste. je suis désolée

Birds and Tears. Words and Fears.

If only I could be the wings on your caged bird

If only I were the songs of a dove

If only the swans shared their beauty

If only I, solely, was your love

But you are the cage that surrounds me

You don’t even know I’m inside

Maybe, when once you had found me,

You wouldn’t be lacking such pride

If you could see beauty that profounds you

You’d be a happier man

If you could accept me, my beauty

You’d love me for the who that I am

If only I could be there when you cry

Even just as the tear on your cheek

I’d comfort you, falling, and then dry

I would make your future less meek

I’d wash away hurt and stay close by

I’d be with you while you felt pain

I would let time pass and just stand by

I would, for your world, be the rain

And in the end, you’d see my beauty

In the end, you’d feel me again

In the end, I’d die for you, mutely

In the end, I’d have nothing to gain

But it’s not about winning or losing

The battle, it stirs deep within

For longing and longing, I’ve lost you

And I’ll never see you again.

m'appelez belle

Call me beautiful. That is  what I want to hear.
I want to know that I leave an impression. I want to make a difference. If I am nothing else to the world but beauty, at least I will have been that.
Don't call me pretty. Pretty is petty. Beauty is all encompassing. Beauty blooms, from the inside, out. Calling me beautiful is like calling me meaningful.
When you call me beautiful, you tell me you care. When you tell me I'm beautiful, I know you noticed. When I am called beautiful, I feel strong.
If I am beautiful, I am useful.
As a beautiful human being, I am kind. As a beautiful woman, I am inspiring. As a beautiful sister, aunt, daughter, friend, I am loving.
With my beauty, I hold purpose. With my beauty, I captivate. With my beauty, I love.

bisous bisous

Sometimes I think all allergens settle in the back of my mouth, making my throat and the roof of my mouth itch like crazy.

I can't stand when someone I'm dating calls me babe or baby but I don't mind when others do. Hun/hon/honey, I only want to hear from someone I am dating. But I still don't want to hear it often. Anyone and everyone is welcome to call me "love". I absolutely love it : ) Or "beautiful"

It drives me crazy when people respond to "Hi, how are you" by asking the same question. It is okay to also ask, but at least answer it first. 

I am so terribly afraid of spiders and bees that my heart still races for a while after they're no longer in my view.  Even after being in a car accident, I was calm and collected until I saw a spider crawling near my feet but I just tried to hide the fear as I casually stepped away.

I can't think of anything else that scares me, even just a little bit.

If you are going to try to scare me, you should probably wear a helmet, a cup and maybe shoulder/elbow pads because it won't phase me mentally but my body does have reflexes when prompted.

I can hold more liquor than one would think, based on my petite physique. But that doesn't mean I've never over-done it.
I've never smoked anything in my life but I have dreams where I am addicted to cigarettes and I think I can really tell what it would actually feel like. Sometimes, I crave them in the day time. Especially if I'm stressed out.
I don't get stressed out easy or often but when I do get stressed out, I go all out.
My best friend has maybe seen me cry three times in my life and most other people I know have never. Even when something minor is bugging me and I don't feel like crying at all, sometimes having my dad around just makes me break into tears and I still don't really get how that works.
I think the world of my nieces and nephew. I have about the same visitation as a divorced parent gets and when they're not in school, I see them even more.
My family means a lot to me, as they have raised me to feel. This is how I know they'll always be there for me in whatever ways possible even if/when I move away.
I hate being cold more than anything in the world. If I am cold, I feel angry and have a hard time concentrating on anything but my misery. I have never been to California but I feel it is the perfect place for me to live.
If love at first sight is actually possible, I should have gone to Italy this summer. I have never felt the same way about a guy as I felt about one whose name I never actually heard. I only read it off a scrap-paper with his name and number that he handed to me after leaving my workplace and coming back with it already written.
I wish I was raised bilingual because it was very difficult for me to learn the French that I learned in University and retaining it is even harder since I find hardly anyone around me speaks it.

I feel accomplished when I empty a bottle of lotion or a tube of toothpaste.

I believe three years ago was the first time I cooked a grilled cheese.Three boyfriends-cooking-for-me later and I can prepare meals all by myself : P It makes me proud when my nieces ask for my "breakfast potatoes" which is really an easy, quick recipe I learned from my last ex.  Every time I break up with someone, even if I'm doing the dumping, I feel really down but in the end, I always feel better off single.

I love kids and a lot of people point out how great I am with them but I honestly never see myself having any. Maybe that will change in a few years. But maybe not- don't get your hopes up.

I think Chuck Palahniuk is a literary genius and I feel ashamed for never even daring to think about having half as much courage as anyone of his created characters have.

Sometimes I feel incredibly inspired but get almost shy to draw things out or start a creative creation process because I'm afraid I won't be able to translate what's in my head to real life. And that would be embarrassing.

Whenever someone says phenomenon or phenomena, I think of the Dr. Pepper commercial where they sing something that sounds like "meh na men ah" followed by some cheery "do"s. 

When people say, "but, um" I think "bu dum bum" like comedic drums.

Ever since teachers started pointing out when people use fillers such as "like" and "um," I have tried to omit them from my speech. Sometimes, instead, I start a sentence over an over again until I figure out a way to word things because I try my best to avoid those and feel awkward sometimes just pausing instead.

In some short quirks-biography of a girl I knew, I read that she hated the sound of people chewing. That never used to bother me but it does now. It actually drives me so bizerk that I dismiss myself from the room before I end up saying something so as not to make the chewer self-conscious.

I don't like the spoiler on my car because I know they have a purpose on sports cars but are just used for looks on normal cars-to make them look sporty and I feel like a poser.

la vie en film

I've been thinking for a while now, maybe a couple years or so, about trying to pinpoint beautiful experiences and trying to capture them in memory and trying to pass them on to the world. In sketches. In stories. In some sort of artistic expression. I have been searching for the right blend of experiences and related descriptions to deem worthy of one's reading. Years later, I am ashamed to admit that I have realized or perhaps been convinced that even the best of descriptions for the best of moments are still just copies of copies.
Thank you Chuck Palahniuk for taking my beauty, my insight, my loves, my memories straight out of my hippocampus and throwing them all into the metaphorical trash. Nothing that has happened to me hasn't happened to everyone else. No experience is unique.
I think back to the time when a boyfriend of mine would surprise me by dancing to nothing but the beat of our own footsteps. At the moment, I was mystified and surprised. I was so sure that the story of our love could be summed up in the few short minutes we spent closer to each other than the rest of the world had ever been. Closer to each other than anyone in the rest of the world could ever try to be. It made me feel beautiful and unique. Loved and special enough to spend the time and spontaneity on. And then I saw the same scene re-enacted for the world to see in a movie. Only it was different characters and it was in the middle of a road somewhere. And you could see her smile and you could see the passion in his eyes. And, although they were dancing to silence, there was a soundtrack for us to hear because it was after-all a movie.
The thing about movies though, is that you can see all the characters and even when the characters have a flashback, the scene includes all of them even the one whose mind is supposedly having the flashback. You get to see just how beautiful, just how in love all of the characters are/were. You get to see how the love in their eyes makes them that much more beautiful for just that moment. But the thing about real life is you are never going to be able to see what everyone else sees in the way that you feel. The love you held in your eyes only counts to the one who saw it and it only counts for that moment. You can never recreate that beauty or that moment because you couldn't see it from all angles.
And why would you want to? We say we want special and unique experiences but we're addicted to happiness the way a masochist is addicted to suffering. After having that one glorified, defining moment we can't wait for the next to come along. After all, if we were only due that one glorified, defining moment, what reason would we have to live for after it? So we try again.
We keep dancing in the silence hoping to feel that passion, hoping to recreate that moment. Little do we realize that the moment was 'special' because it was spontaneous and unprecedented. But, with the limited creative potential this modern world holds, it is hard, maybe impossible even, to continue creating spontaneous moments so we get sucked in to the hum-drum daily grind of real life. And we start living in movies and books because those copies of copies are unique to us and make us feel alive.

Tout le mond devrait le faire

I start thinking about it and my heart starts racing. If I were any more excited I think my body would actually start trembling. In ten minutes, I know that I will be right where I want to be. I will be hot and sweaty and I will be satisfied to know that there is something I do right. And afterwards I will be glad I made the decision to do this. I will be happy and I will even feel more beautiful. Still, I know the next time I do this will feel even better and I will be even happier and I will feel even more beautiful.

I have an addiction. A healthy one.

I love to run.

Un long dimanche de fiançailles

I just watched another film starring Audrey Tatou and it was beautiful. It's not just their language that makes the French so beautiful. Everything about their culture is amazing. At least to me. Even though I thought the movie was beautiful- the scenery, the filmography, the plot- I hated it a little bit.

I hate to admit that I am bitter but I cannot think of another explanation for why I hate movies about love. The first and only movie I've ever cried watching was "What Dreams May Come". However, "Tristan and Isolde" put me in a funk for a few days and I did end up crying about that movie. I know these movies are usually used to inspire and cheer people up but all I see is human failure. It makes me sad to think that someone could write about and act out such a pure form of love but I see no real-life examples. At least no new ones. I believe in the love my grandparents and great aunt and uncle share.

I swear I see people get married left and right but I never see love like they show in movies. Or even love like my grandparents have. Is it just me or does true love only exist in written/scripted/picture form anymore? Don't get me wrong I still give love a chance. I still keep my heart open so that "love will find its way in". I just don't really truly believe in it.

Maybe that's how I create a sort of self'-fulfilled prophecy. By letting people know that I don't really believe in it, no one is willing to share theirs with me. Maybe.

And I still believe in love. For sure. I just don't believe in "true love", the kind of love people fight for or at least try for. Sometimes I think love is just a victim of the modern world. Technology makes everything so easy for us that we take for granted anything you have to work for. Anything worth working for. I do think love, "true love" even, existed at one point. I think my grandparents' generation has a few couples who were/are/will forever be in love. And back then, it wasn't easy.

Everyone I talk to about long distance relationships says they won't work out. Some say it's easier now with skyping/texting and all these ways to stay connected quickly but I haven't witnessed a long-distance relationship "working-out" let alone one where both people are in the same city. Our generation is so bogged down by our need for instant gratification. If its not easy, if its not perfect all on its own, its not working and it gets dismissed.

So the cynic rambles on....

One day, I was looking for a quote about love to share. I ended up on google and found a link about "the story of the man who didn't believe in love". The title alone intrigued me so I delved in. After reading it, I was calm. I felt as though this epiphany was brought to my attention. I was accepting and understanding and it made me feel better for a while. It's still just a story. Just another fictional map to describe another author's journey through love but I like it. I think it's beautiful and worth reading.
This isn't the link I found originally, that had something to do with a website named something like thinkexist, but it's the same story:
http://www.howtogetoverarelationship.com/the-man-who-didnt-believe-in-love/

n'aime rien

I know not love

For still, I fear

To keep those, who love,

In my heart, so near.

If love, I knew,

Were here to stay

I’d love and love

And love away.

But fear I may,

That love doth leave.

I love not, thus

Not loved, I grieve.

Love not, want not,

Hurt not I.

Wish not. Share not.

Cry not. Die

je suis amour

One of my best friends has a tattoo on her wrist. It reads:
be free
be happy
be love
For readers that don't understand French, and didn't look it up already, the title of this one translates to "I am love." Though I may not think of that saying everyday, like someone who has it tattooed to their wrist might, I still feel as though I have melded this saying into my persona. After all, who shouldn't be free? Who shouldn't be happy? Who shouldn't be love?
There may have been days when I have come up with people who, at the time, I thought didn't deserve to be one or any of those. Realistically, however, I am sensible enough to admit that each and every individual truly deserves all three of these idealisms toujours.

We should all be free to feel the way we feel. Whether it's what we want to feel or not, we are all human and can't always control our feelings. Others should be able to accept that. It is okay to be sad. It is also okay to be happy. But at no point in my life should I ever have to be either. We should all be free to express ourselves however we want. You may not agree with me, but you may feel free to express that as well. Each and every individual should be free to make mistakes! What better way to learn? We should be free to talk, free to listen, free to walk, free to christen, free to love... Free. to. be.

I have heard, often, that it is okay to cry. It is okay to be sad. Its okay to grieve. And it is true, that is all okay. But how rare is it to hear, to read, to understand that it is also okay to be happy? I love this phrase for many reasons. It contradicts the norm. It gives an optimistic spin on life. This phrase frees one of the burden of feeling as though one has to acknowledge and/or represent the moment when things go wrong. This phrase opens up a world of happiness where others may have felt it wasn't yet appropriate or okay to move on.
Lesson learned: there is no right or wrong time to grieve. Even when sad things happen, it is okay to be happy.

Further, it is okay to love and be loved. From this, I conclude that it is important, essential even, to be love. This is a free and open phrase. It can mean many things to many people. To me, love is a happiness felt in your heart. It's knowing that somewhere in your life, you or someone close did something so right that your connection to yourself or that person can constantly change your life for the better. And even when it feels like it may be changing your life for the worst, one day you will realize that those feelings were still "character-building" and you still turned out to (as you always will) be better off.
So to be love, in my opinion, is to be that happiness in a heart. It can even be in your own. I know that some would still disagree when they hear, "better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." But in the most minimal of ways, you should at least love yourself.
You don't have to be selfish, cocky, and/or arrogant to love yourself. This simply takes a little appreciation. Sit down and think about it. What do you like about yourself? Maybe you do something for others, maybe you like the way you look, maybe you have an incredibly optimistic point of view. These are just three of millions of reasons to love one's self. You should be able to come up with at least one. Why? Because you will be a better person for it. Because, if you can't love something as simple and approachable as yourself, you will never be able to appreciate that which makes life worth living. And without that appreciation, even if your body is still alive, you are not truly living.
In order to love others, I'm sure you've heard, you must first love yourself. And why bother loving others? Love is such an important communicator between two human beings. It doesn't have to be between lovers to be important love. Just as loving yourself is necessary to appreciate life, loving others opens up that many more doors to the opportunity of appreciating that much more in life. I feel so passionate about this that I'm sure this subject will take up more than one blog. I'll save that for another day, though. But just know that, in the words of Kimya Dawson, "Love is common destiny."

même des artichauts a du coeurs

A friend from the Gump recently quoted another friend on Facebook. It made me think of another thing he said that deemed quote-worthy. He, mimicking a popular childish saying, said, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words may break my heart."
I got to thinking about that today and about the original saying ending, "but names will never hurt me." What are we telling kids to say? If you really want to hurt me, start throwing rocks?
Are we trying to raise kids to be unaffected by the words of another human being? Sure this saying is originated to apply to foolish childish torment but what does it say about our society? Like my friend mentioned, words can burn much deeper than physical pain. And that's not necessarily a bad thing. Sometimes we need another person's insight to realize that we are becoming something we don't want to be. Sometimes we need a critique that burns deep in our chest to drive us to succeed. If we say that words, or names for that matter, don't hurt us we are just saying that we've finally cut off a communicative tool that makes us human and that motivates us to change, teaches us to be better and encourages us to appreciate praise.
Words can hurt. We should teach children that instead. And, even when the words are aimed to dig deep and hurt, they can counter-intuitively lead the victim of said words to progress.  It may just be a song but there are plenty of real life instances where these lyrics from Dirty Head's "Check the Level" (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CHoN9FOGos4) can apply: "she didn't know that the things they said that left her hurting would actually turn out to make her a better person". It's just a little lengthy to say "sticks and stones may break my bones but those mean words you say can turn out to make me a better person so watch what you say."
In the end, I like the way my friend put it, "words may break my heart." This encourages thought and apathy. It appeals to our morale rather than our drive to hurt others. It explains that we are human and that language can be a very effective tool. It can motivate us to chose our words carefully, to engage our brains when we move our tongues. Overall, it reminds us that we are all human and that we all have feelings and, at some level, we care about what others think of us.

<3 *the title is a quote from Amelie, an amazing French movie. A rude, often crude and stubborn, man is calling his employee a vegetable and someone chimes in that at least he (the man, not the employee) could never be a vegetable, because even artichokes have hearts.

call me Bella

This is hardly a love story. But I hope you love it. I want it to inspire. There are so many blogs out there and I have hardly a clue what they're all about. I just know that I want this one to make sense and have purpose. I wish for someone to benefit. Words are so easily tossed around and often forgotten. I'm not expecting these words to forever be remembered but know that they are not coming easily. And they are not being tossed.
I am the kind of person who won't say something if I can't word it the way I want. This blog is not going through five stages of editing but each post will be carefully thought out. Words should not be wasted.

Not even in a blog.

Here is how I see it: Life is a struggle of purpose and beauty. If you fail to serve a purpose, you should at least be beautiful. Which is easier?

I love "would you rather"s. So here is one that I would like to share: Would you rather wake up and know that you're beautiful and see beauty when you look in the mirror but know that the rest of the world sees something more along the lines of ugly OR wake up and see ugly but know that the rest of the world thinks you are beautiful?