“We all have the potential to fall in love a thousand times in our lifetime. It’s easy. The first girl I ever loved was someone I knew in sixth grade. Her name was Missy; we talked about horses. The last girl I love will be someone I haven’t even met yet, probably. They all count. But there are certain people you love who do something else; they define how you classify what love is supposed to feel like. These are the most important people in your life, and you’ll meet maybe four or five of these people over the span of 80 years. But there’s still one more tier to all this; there is always one person you love who becomes that definition. It usually happens retrospectively, but it happens eventually. This is the person who unknowingly sets the template for what you will always love about other people, even if some of these loveable qualities are self-destructive and unreasonable. The person who defines your understanding of love is not inherently different than anyone else, and they’re often just the person you happen to meet the first time you really, really, want to love someone. But that person still wins. They win, and you lose. Because for the rest of your life, they will control how you feel about everyone else.”
- Chuck Klosterman- Killing Yourself to Live
The Marilyn Files: The Letters She Wrote. At Frank Sinatra’s suggestion, Marilyn Monroe kept her life inside two filing cabinets—letters, invoices, financial records, and the mementos that meant the most to her. After her tragic death, in 1962, at the age of 36, the cabinets, together with an assortment of jewels, fur coats, and other personal belongings, were stashed away by the actress’s business manager, Inez Melson. This secret trove would remain virtually unknown to the world for more than four decades, until photographer Mark Anderson began an epic two-year project of documenting it. His photographs, made public for the first time, offer new insights into the life of Hollywood’s most iconic figure. via Vanity Fair (and the great aussie girls) My favourite of them all: mine too. This collection (and beyond exhaustive online gallery) is extraordinary, which I guess is only fitting. Fascinating …
Shades- “Tell Me”
Gold digger’s anthem! This song is pretty cheesy but it had that beat that LL used for the “Loungin’” remix on it. (ahotmess)
So, I heard this song today for the first time in a long time, and I was compleeetely unaware of the lyrics. I probably just mumbled along with the tune when I was younger. Once I realized the point of the song I became pretty disappointed in my music choices back in the day.
I think there are two types of beauty.
The easier kind is inherited beauty. Youth and its accessories. Flawless skin, toned muscles, bright eyes, silken hair. Also, the ageless genetic gifts of symmetry, grace, and form.
While I cannot help but appreciate inherited beauty, I do not respect it as much as the other type of beauty.
Earned beauty. Laugh lines, scars, stretch marks, tattoos, the folding wrinkles of age. These are marks life leaves on the body. A roadmap of a body’s temporal path. Each crease tells a story, each scar a mark of honor.
I’m perplexed by people who buy jeans, or boots, and scuff and distress them right away. Better they should enjoy the inherited beauty of them new, and as life works on them, the earned beauty will shine through. Be patient. Earn it. Appreciate it. The process is as important as the destination.
The same as our bodies age. Enjoy the beauty and blush of youth, but also the patina and mystery of age. Be young and beautiful. Be old and beautiful.
You were given a body. But have you earned it?
I can tell someone I love them but I can’t tell them that I think about them constantly, or how much they mean to me, or how I wish I could be with them all the time. Something inside me tells me to stop- to not risk going deeper because I can’t admit to myself that I need someone.
