Volcanoes

Sometimes I believe that we use words that sound the same to mollify the overwhelming feeling to express things to each other that we’re too afraid to admit.

I don’t mind, I’m not ready either.

Warmth

If you’re a volcano I’m a volcano <3

Caught up again, lmao. You’re a fucking idiot.

Please, don’t ever leave.

A Message.

“We accept the love we think we deserve”

And it’s true.  We do.

Is the question the same if you ask if you deserve the love that you are acceping?

I suppose in terms of semantics, it’s the same damn question.

But what if you love too much, too quickly?  Over a cup of coffee in a chain-diner with an overly sarcastic waiter that was getting on my last nerve, one of the people who knows me best looked at me from across the table in silent and pleasant company.

“I think those guys sitting at the table behind you used to be in my gym class in high school…”

and I realized, we are reckless, wild hearts.  Relentless and uninhibited.  They feel too much and love far too much and far too easily.  We believe anything and trust fearlessly.  I’m not sure if it’s a flaw, but even if it is, I appreciate it.  Life and feelings are rich and I am unapologetic for what I feel because dammit, it’s all I know.  All I know is how to feel and I know how to do it very well.  I can’t help it.  We can’t help it.  When things are beautiful they’re ecstatic, when they’re bad they’re devastating.

We just need to keep drinking coffee, laying on the floor, and reminding each other,

“Remember that one time when I thought I was going to die?  I’m still alive.  Tell me that.  Always tell me that.  Life’s not that serious.”

We walked out of the restaurant as the waiter threw another sarcastic remark at us and I mumbled under my breath, “I fcking hate that guy…”

Comfort

I looked into his eyes and said, “Aren’t you scared?”

“No.  Not with you.”

And I felt invincible.

Delicious

Only one person understands how I feel about Helvetica.

Okay, so I’ve been browsing through my StumbleUpon favorites to try and find the source for this project but I can’t seem to find it anymore .  And even though this is a gift for one of my close friends, I really want to share it because I love it and I can’t wait to give it to her.

So, I started off with a random painting I found at Goodwill for about $4, with a simple picture of yellow flowers and a blue sky, something not exactly thrilling and I wouldn’t mind painting over a bit.  Then I ran over to Staples and bought a set of 3 inch stick on letters in, what else, Helvetica.  Based on the about of letters in the pack (which you should really plan out before hand because I only had one “b” which made for an awkward realization) I chose a saying and arranged the letters on the canvas.  Once I did that, I just took some off-white acrylic paint, and painted over the letters.  The process looked as follows:

As you can see, I didn’t plan on there NOT being two B’s, which made the project go a little slower, but here is the final product:

I think it came out pretty awesome for my first try .  Next time, I’m going to make sure the letters adhere a little better and maybe put a few more coats of white paint (I was really eager), and perhaps even use spray-paint since the paint leaked through the edges.  Still, I’m very happy with the results and can’t wait to give it to the owner .

Hope you enjoyed my short project blurb.  If anyone knows the original website where this came from let me know, I would love to credit them.

FOUND IT!

http://abeautifulmess.typepad.com/my_weblog/2011/08/song-lyric-wall-art-diy-project.html

weird.

my blog views have tripled in the past 24 hours.  hello people!

Unafraid.

I stared up at the rafters where the ceiling should be but wasn’t quite yet.  My head rested on your soft belly, by body perpendicular to yours, the room moving ever so slightly in time with your breathing.  My eyes moved back to the green, perfect, impossibly beautiful walls that laid before me.

We collapsed in exhaustion after painting and repainting the same walls trying to repair the unintended carelessness from earlier in the evening.  I remember the disappointment in your face as you told me, “We’re going to have to start over”.  But it wasn’t disappointment because you knew it would be more work for you, but simply because you feared it would cause delay in my perfect vision.  Because you hate seeing me upset.  Still, my optimism prevailed as I convinced you to try just one more coat.  Even as I snapped three of my nails off trying to open a can of paint, I kept smiling and we kept working later into the night.

And I swear, watching paint dry has never been more exciting, rewarding, and deliriously romantic.

As we laid on the floor after the third damn coat of paint, I felt the cool tile creep up through my clothes and reach the skin on the small of my back, a sharp contrast to your radiating body heat on the back of my neck.  We had left the radio on, and the soft hum seemed louder in the silence, but it filled the space and was strangely comforting.  Everything seemed to settle in time and space and the walls dried into a perfect, smooth, flawless finish of green.

“We really did it,”  I said.
“You mean I did,” he replied, playfully.  I couldn’t see his face but I could tell he was smiling.
“I helped too, jerk!” I exclaimed, as I rested a hand on my stomach and another over my head.

His hand found mine and we laced our fingers together, our rings clinking softly.  In that moment everything seemed to stand still.  I didn’t feel the cold from the floor beneath me, I didn’t feel the slight chill on my arms;  All that mattered was the green walls that were before us, with the sheen of an eggshell, as promised.

“They’re perfect,” I breathed.
“They really are.”
“Do we have to get up yet?”
“No, not ever.”

And so we laid in silent awe, song after song, hands intertwined and without words, lying still, saying everything our hearts wanted to say and nothing at the same time.

As we walked out that night into the cool air, something had changed, something was different, something we couldn’t quite figure out.  But it was electric.

Fucking electric.