And thank you lucky stars that I have spell check to help me spell prejudice.
Love the Solitude.
Worpswede, July 16, 1903
Letters to a young poet
Jack Kerouac (via thatkindofwoman)
Had froyo with my bff tonight. We chatted about High School and the past and how people have changed.
I had almost nothing positive to say or feel on the subject. Although I do not feel that I romanticize high school, because that would be totally lame and socially unacceptable, I do hold many fond memories from those days close to my heart.
Many of the individuals I spent most of my time around were fun, lively, exciting, and open with their thoughts and feelings. Although these things may not seem like much, bonds of the kind are so incredibly valuable and important especially in the fragile years of high school.
My whoas mainly pertained to the feeling that so many of my friends (upon further thought, all of them) have changed so drastically in the past couple of years. In a way I felt betrayed by the way they could so easily give up themselves and the real “them” I once knew.
I realized of course that most of my feelings were shallow and selfish. There is no way I can expect people’s priorities and ways of thinking not to change. Especially for my benefit (I’m not going to marry/provide for any of them after all). Although in my highly narcissistic (officially shrink diagnosed) way of thinking I of course told myself that my discomfort and concern was for their ultimate happiness and loyalty to themselves, but a good percent was actually booty hurt-ness from the fact that anyone could disregard me so easily/completely.
But then, laying in bed with only my computer to snuggle with, I tumbled upon the quote above.
And now, I wonder, would the relationships and memories I shared with people in my past be as wonderful or beautiful if they had not ended? Would the lessons I learned from these individuals be valid at all if I did not have my no longer existent past to romanticize?
These questions alone, however wordy and confusing they may be are beautiful. Looking back on my past as a gift I was once given is beautiful. Knowing that all the individuals I once shared my life with are alive and trekking their own paths in the world is beautiful.
Knowing that everything will end, and therefore being able to understand what a blessing everything and everyone is, is beautiful.
—J. R. R. Tolkien (via thatkindofwoman)
—Jeffrey Eugenides, The Virgin Suicides (via thatkindofwoman)
—Yousuf Karsh (via thatkindofwoman)
—F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Beautiful and Damned (via alittleheartandruh)