Nº. 1 of  6

No Promises.

“We cannot build the future by avenging the past.”
― T.H. White, The Once and Future King

Posts tagged life:

fcukur:

digbicks:

Romanticisation of Mental Illness, Kelsey Weaver

This really hit me hard jesus christ.

(Source: Flickr / kelseyweaverphotography, via ifmusicbethefoodofblog)

humansofnewyork:

"I run a cloud computing business. It’s 24/7 of demanding decisions. It’s completely absorbing and can take your soul if you aren’t careful. It’s a great business. But there’s more to life than business."

Me in 3 years.

humansofnewyork:

"I run a cloud computing business. It’s 24/7 of demanding decisions. It’s completely absorbing and can take your soul if you aren’t careful. It’s a great business. But there’s more to life than business."

Me in 3 years.

You’re gonna need a pep talk sometimes. That’s okay. For now, remember this: You’re awake. You’re awesome. Live like it.

(Source: robinsparkle, via inspectorblog)

That’s it. That’s my story.

That’s it. That’s my story.

Blessings.

1. I am alive, and I will heal.
2. I will have to say goodbye to my beloved baby Mercedes, but knowing that it saved my life is a big comfort.
3. The dozen or so police officers, firemen, and paramedics who got my car off the freeway and towed away, made sure I was safe, splinted my arm, and caught me when I lost consciousness. Especially the one who held my neck still for about 5 minutes with his hands while they examined my spine. Also the officer who went back to my car to find my coat.
4. My mother and father, and especially Jonathan who rented a car to meet me at the hospital. (With a soft blanket and a lemon pelligrino).
5. The very patient x-Ray technician who somehow managed to get good film of my face, nose, neck, back, and wrist with me being all wobbly.
6. The tired nurse who fitted my cast and measured twice to make sure it would be comfortable.
7. My father who waited in line for 30 minutes at a shady walgreens to get my pain medications, and took me home and made me a sandwich.
8. Pills that should help with the aching and soreness.
9. My nose and my cheek are not broken, and I only have minor bruising on my face.
10. I cut my hair short last week, so I don’t have to deal with it now. Huge.
11. I broke my left wrist. I am right-handed.
12. The strong bones I inherited from my father.
13. The friends who love me and care about me.
14. I will probably feel like hell for the next week, but all things considered I made it out pretty okay. I will be okay. I am lucky.

Keepers/Creepers.

godeatsbagels:

The phrase “S/he’s a keeper!”, always makes me laugh a little. People only mention when their significant other is a keeper. Nobody ever says “oh yeah, S/he’s a total loser. I’m making a huge fucking mistake.”

Life is sometimes life and sometimes only a drama, and one must learn to distinguish tother from which.

—E.M. Forster, Howards End

What’s terrible is to pretend that second-rate is first-rate. To pretend that you don’t need love when you do; or you like your work when you know quite well you’re capable of better.

—Doris Lessing, The Golden Notebook

Sunday’s Race Route. I’m excited and a little apprehensive to be running across the Golden Gate Bridge, because of the personal significance it carries for me. I never met my father’s mother, and because my family carries grief very poorly, I don’t know too much about my grandmother. I love living in San Francisco now because it was where she lived, and grew up, and spent a great deal of her life. One of the very few things I do know about her is that she roller skated across the Golden Gate Bridge on Opening Day, in 1937. She was fifteen years old. I’ll be thinking about her with every step. 
For a lot of my friends and family, I’m sure this seems pretty easy — but I’ve never been a distance runner. Lingering injuries from high school and uncorrected breathing problems kept me pretty sidelined. 
My two surgeries last year have given me an incredible gift, and I’ve been able to accomplish things that never would have been possible for me before. Two years ago, I struggled to run a single mile. Now, I can comfortably run over 7. I’ve kept pushing myself and this will be the longest distance I’ve ever run. 
Running has been such a huge part of my weight loss, and just the way I feel about myself in general. I’m still learning and growing as a person, and a large part of that is to try to stop being my own worst enemy. 
When I’m racing, I’m competing against myself, and the only thing that can stop me is me. I’m not a distance runner. I don’t have the physique for it, even now that I’m in much better shape. My legs are too short, my torso is too long, and I’ll never match pace with my 6ft tall younger sister. 
I’m not going to win. I might make my goal pace, and I might not. But I am going to finish. And how I do depends entirely on me. Which is honestly, really refreshing. I’m not limited by my talents in this arena, because I don’t have any. When you have no talents, then you have no limits. It’s all an act of will. 

Sunday’s Race Route. I’m excited and a little apprehensive to be running across the Golden Gate Bridge, because of the personal significance it carries for me. I never met my father’s mother, and because my family carries grief very poorly, I don’t know too much about my grandmother. I love living in San Francisco now because it was where she lived, and grew up, and spent a great deal of her life. One of the very few things I do know about her is that she roller skated across the Golden Gate Bridge on Opening Day, in 1937. She was fifteen years old. I’ll be thinking about her with every step. 

For a lot of my friends and family, I’m sure this seems pretty easy — but I’ve never been a distance runner. Lingering injuries from high school and uncorrected breathing problems kept me pretty sidelined. 

My two surgeries last year have given me an incredible gift, and I’ve been able to accomplish things that never would have been possible for me before. Two years ago, I struggled to run a single mile. Now, I can comfortably run over 7. I’ve kept pushing myself and this will be the longest distance I’ve ever run. 

Running has been such a huge part of my weight loss, and just the way I feel about myself in general. I’m still learning and growing as a person, and a large part of that is to try to stop being my own worst enemy. 

When I’m racing, I’m competing against myself, and the only thing that can stop me is me. I’m not a distance runner. I don’t have the physique for it, even now that I’m in much better shape. My legs are too short, my torso is too long, and I’ll never match pace with my 6ft tall younger sister. 

I’m not going to win. I might make my goal pace, and I might not. But I am going to finish. And how I do depends entirely on me. Which is honestly, really refreshing. I’m not limited by my talents in this arena, because I don’t have any. When you have no talents, then you have no limits. It’s all an act of will. 

Nº. 1 of  6