Monthly Archives: April 2013

“I have my path, and he should have his. If our paths are meant to intertwine, they will. The permanent intersection just hasn’t happened — yet. If we force it, we lose it forever.” (Cupcake, Rachel Cohn.)

How To Fall In Love

Thought Catalog

Love is one of those things that finds you when you least expect it. You can’t really go hunting for it and you can’t predict it. What you can do is help facilitate not-expecting it.

Start by telling yourself that you’ll never fall in love. Look in the mirror every morning at your stupid ugly face and make a mental note that nobody could ever love someone who looks like you. Take a shower and let water pour over you, down the length of your mediocre body. There’s no way another human being could ever find that attractive. Dry yourself off and repeat your mantra to yourself. “I can do anything.” That’s a stupid fucking mantra. You are a dumb fuck. You will never amount to anything and nobody could ever love such a sad waste of space. Get dressed in anything, it doesn’t matter because all your clothes aren’t…

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I Hope You Think Of Me When You Hear A Sex Joke

Thought Catalog

I didn’t think it was possible for a girl like me to find someone as special as you. I know that sounds too cliché but, I really did believe that love wasn’t for me. No boy has ever been interested in me. I’m not particularly beautiful, I’m not graceful or athletic. I’m the default smart girl because I don’t fit into any of the other boxes women seem to be categorized in. This didn’t really bother me because I never really thought about boys until I met you.

We started out as classmates then as friends. We made up inside jokes and you made fun of my innocent ways. We talked about our favorite shows and how Lost changed our lives. Then that one December afternoon we watched that movie and I don’t know about you but, I really did feel something. You told me about your favorite band and I started listening to…

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Love Is The Only Thing That Exists

Thought Catalog

I’ve had a preoccupation lately — especially when walking down the street listening to piano music — with imagining what it would be like to get shot in the chest. There’d be a jolt of impact, a hard jab that knocks the wind out of you. Then I’d drop to my knees, and everything surreal — people running and screaming, maybe a siren, or maybe no one notices at all, just a bird floats overhead in an ordinary sky on an ordinary sunny day. There’d be blood, and then I’d lie down and go to sleep.

I’ve also had a preoccupation — especially on these cold, still nights after a warm day, when spring waits for tomorrow – with thinking about love.

I’ve tried to dismiss it — clunky, overly-emotional collocation; cheap and melodramatic feeling. But I can’t. When I think about loving someone, I think about dying. I think…

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Wrap

Te extraño a la noche. Especialmente cuando tengo un día libre al día siguiente porque esos eran nuestros; cuando todo congeniaba a la perfección, incluso nuestros horarios. Nos quedábamos hasta tarde viendo cualquier cosa con total de discutir con la televisión y decir comentarios que se encontraban en el límite entre lo sarcástico y soberbio pero que nos divertían porque somos así realmente (un poco al menos, no mientas) y aún podíamos serlo al estar juntos. Era un win-win a la perfección. Continue reading

Reading Is Sexy

Thought Catalog

You’ve all had that moment. You’re on the train, coming home from a long, frustrating day at work or that night class you regret taking. You’re slumped over your seat listening to Alt-J or the new Yeah Yeah Yeahs single. You look around you at the faint squalor of the train; the lights on this car seem set to perpetual gray dusk, a metaphor for your mood you don’t appreciate. But then you look across from you and you see him sweating as he tears through a Saul Bellow novel you’ve always sworn to read or Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.

Gone Girl, you wonder? Who is this man? Who gave him that? Is that a gift from a wife or girlfriend? Is he in a book club? Holy shit, that’s so hot.

You then begin to fantasize about this stranger on the train, what genres he’s into and…

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