Saturday, November 15, 2014

Late Night Posts.

it's twenty minutes past midnight. i'm listening to old songs and new songs. i'm writing a blog post. just because.

(i may or may not have pretended i was a ballerina at one point this evening. i may or may not do that a lot. whatever.)

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tonight i watched a million and one episodes of my all time favorite show (jonas) with jill (whom i've now known for two thirds of my life. crazy? yes.) we let our obsession extremely dedicated admiration for nick jonas come full out. (& kevin jonas & joe jonas). and we may have almost cried when stella & joe kissed. and also when the glint in nick's eye shows during the theme song.

i have a love deep in my heart for nick j that will never die.


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lately i've been thinking about life. or i guess i'm always thinking about life. evaluating. looking back. looking forward. i've realized lately that:

//you can't recreate moments. you just have to hold tight to the ones you've had and wait for new ones to come along because memories are the most precious pieces of your life.

let your memories grow stronger and stronger, 'til they're before your eyes. (the call//regina spektor).

//music is like an on/off switch for feelings. some songs you listen to until you cry. some make you laugh. and some just mean nothing but hey, you like the beat.

//life is a concept i might never understand. it's completely complicated. at one point "life is good" was a motto of mine. life is still good, but sometimes i wonder how the heck people seem to know what they're doing so much. i feel like everyone has an owner's manual for life and i just seemed to have lost mine and i'm still too afraid to ask questions about it.

//everything comes back to memories. sometimes you forget about a moment and then it comes out of nowhere and it hits you hard.

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i look forward to what's in store for my future with anxiety & excitement & pure terror. i'm not totally sure why that is, but that's life, right?

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now it's 1:09AM and i'm starting to regret the amount of muddy buddies i ate tonight. 

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why don't you be the artist, and make me out of clay?/why don't you be the writer, and decide the words i say? (the writer//ellie goulding)