Life is complicated. It’s supposed to be; that’s the way it was intended. If life were perfect it wouldn’t be called life. It would be called heaven.
Tags: Tumblroid
Ridiculosity
This is a tumblelog, kinda like a blog but with short-form, mixed-media posts with stuff I like. Scroll down a bit to start reading, or a bit more to read more about me.
It’s the difficulties in life through which we persevere that build character and make us who we are. Discomfort breeds lessons and ease in applying them to future situations, we just need to make it through today to put the lessons into practice.
You’re my flower through the cracks of life.
“
Count the garden by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall. Count your life with smiles and not the tears that roll.
— unknown
Thinking aloud
Being in love with someone is nice. I thought it was caring deeply for someone; that is like. I thought it was wanting to please and make someone happy; that is like. I thought it was genuinely enjoying the presence of a special person; that is like. Being in love with someone enhances every experience in life. It makes the good things exponentially greater because you have an extension of yourself to share them with, and the bad things don’t seem to hit quite as hard because you have that same extension to soften the blow. Being in love is like seeing the world with a higher level of color saturation.
This is pretty.
This might be love. :) (yes, i’m talking to you vaseline lips)
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