There will come a time when you want to cut off all your hair. Do it. Realise that the thing you want rid of doesn’t lie in the long curls that frame your face so perfectly. Live with short hair for a while. It’ll grow.

You won’t always want to talk to people. That’s okay. When it’s late and you hear your friends talking in the next room, you don’t have to join them. You’re allowed your solitude. It makes company sweeter and it teaches you how to survive alone. You will need that skill.

In the winter, you’ll believe that nothing will ever grow again. You’re wrong. Every year, London looks like it’s on its last legs, wheezing through those last cold days in March. Every year, spring comes like an explosion and the city shakes off its sleep.

Mundane problems will get the better of you sometimes. Don’t worry. Try as you might, life cannot be an endless, beautiful, intense moment. Find comfort in money worries and late trains; they’re a welcome rest in between heartbreaks and breakdowns.

People will call you a cynic, a wry smile on their faces. Pay them no mind. You alone know that you are capable of a love greater than anything they can comprehend. You alone know that you are not willing to sell your identity and respect to the first smirking halfwit to pass by. It is not cynicism. It is reverence for your own vast and fathomless heart, and it makes sense only to love someone who understands that and is awed by it.

You will not always get what you want when you want it. Accept it. Your goals are not set in stone and you are not on a fixed trajectory. Sometimes, life will take its time and you will have to play the long, interminable game. Play it well and with as much grace as you can muster. Live at your own pace.

At night, you will occasionally wake up afraid, wanting to die. Don’t give in. Night plays its tricks, but you are not so easily fooled. Your mind will play its tricks, too. It will make you believe that you’re not who you are, but you must not give in. You take a breath and you tell yourself that you are here. That you always were.

Practical Advice for Difficult Women (#20 - 9th December)

Practical Advice for Difficult Women.

(via wearesouls)

I want you. I want your sleepy confused look when you wake up, and the smile that follows. I want to be the warmth that fills the space in your bed. I don’t want to share you.

unknown (via swiftbeat)

(via heyheyanna)

supsquark:

why the fuck is there so much stigma surrounding going to the movies by yourself why the fuck do you need someone to help you sit in the dark and look at a wall for two hours “oh look at that dork they don’t even have a friend to ignore for the entire duration of this event”

(via myownwaytobelieving)

Part Two.

March 4, 2013

She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. It’s 1pm and she silently wished she was a morning person. Unfortunately, ever since the first day she attended high school, her body decided to be nocturnal without asking her permission. And she submitted to it. It got a couple hours worse when she attended college.

She stares at her clock again. 1:04 pm. The she starts thinking about him. She starts thinking about their Saturday. About how he said he missed her, about how that made her extremely happy. She stopped herself halfway and decided that she should not miss him now because 1) it’s just Monday and 2) it’s gonna be a long one. Besides, they meet during Saturdays and there are still gonna be more Saturdays for them. With some reluctance and a long sigh, she poured her coffee and started to work on her projects. It looks like she’s gonna have to skip her favorite part of the dreary Monday afternoons.

He constantly looks at his watch, counting the minutes. It’s 5 pm and he’s wondering where she could be. How odd for her to skip her Monday afternoon. He prepared himself and even tried to read a book. He brought the book with him, Anne Frank. He remembered seeing her smile for the first time while reading this book even though he was sure  she read it a thousand times before, it looks yellow and weary. Unfortunately, it’s 5:04 and she’s nowhere to be found. 

After his 3rd cup of coffee, he looks at his watch again and it’s 6:15 pm. He said to himself that it’s absurd of him to miss a stranger. Maybe it is absurd, maybe it’s not. He doesn’t care because he adores her and he  adores how she makes him happy without meaning to. He wonders what she could be doing to miss he sacred Monday, it is the first time. He told himself not to worry because 1) it’s just one Monday and 2) there is still gonna be more Mondays to come. With a big reluctance and a deep sigh, he finished his last cup of coffee and started to walk out of the diner. Continuously wondering why she had to skip her Monday afternoon.