My heart skips a beat to:
That really good song that you can put on repeat without getting tired of it, the perfect swish from nothing but net, bright colors that scream attention which I don't like to bask in, cars that remind me of cartoons, the right sneakers for every occasion, the honest "I've-missed-you" look my dog gives me when I come home, a quick run in the dark imagining someone is chasing me, anything kawaiiiiii, frozen desserts of many fulfilling kinds, heroes or arch-nemeses, life ambitions and carpe diem actions, exercising brain power, exploring So Cal, and eating food that is yummy-yummy, in my tummy. Did I mention I'm a web-junkie? Long live internet!
I feel like I’m at the point right before the climax. Right before you
feel your loins tighten up, your toes tingle, and you reach that state
of internal euphoria.
Internal euphoria is exactly the state of mind I am in.
A girl once got stranded at a house because her boyfriend had the car.
He was about 20 miles away and refused to detour to pick her up
because 20 miles was too far. When the girl told me this, I remember
being livid. How could a boy just leave the girl simply because he
didn’t want to drive?
And ever since then, I’ve always lived by the quote, “I would drive
the ends of the earth for the love of my life.” It wouldn’t matter if
he was 50 miles or 500 miles away, I would drive to be with him.
I was taken aback when this past weekend, someone made a tremendous
trip and went out of their way to drive hundreds of miles just for me.
It blew me away. To the point where I’m so grateful and humbled that I
don’t know how to repay him. It meant so much to me, that inside
there was a warmth I couldn’t eradicate.
At the end of the day, he is the Only one I see, the only smile I look
forward to, the only one who understands who I am in this exact
moment. I love him so much I want to shout it on rooftops and hug him
until our bodies go numb. Make me numb.
That boy can stroke it. That boy can really stroke it right there. I’m gonna take him to Target.
Charles Barkley, describing Klay Thompson’s jump shot, and derailing Inside The NBA for a full two minutes (via nbaoffseason)
As a mental release, I’m considering signing up for a destination marathon. I’ve run 4 marathons already, what’s one more? Decisions x decisions.
I run because when I’m doing it, I escape the world. I like to escape. It keeps me sane.
I feel like everything is happening to me all at once, 2014 seems to be a peak year for me.
I’ve decided to finally take a giant leap into my career and take that risk! The greatest hurdle with launching a business, is spending the initial money to make money. Scary. But if executed properly, the sky is the limit. I’m upward bound.
I’ve always been a kid at heart. I have yet to learn what it means to take on full responsibility. A part of that means I’m leaving my carefree life behind to take on what adults handle - as a new homeowner, I’ll be dipping my feet into that pool of adulthood.
Seems like a re-occurring theme, but I’m on that track to make something of my health. I plan on living to 110, that means I gotta whip myself into shape. I’m trying to eat the same foods for breakfast and lunch as a routine, and for dinner down some form of protein after a work out session. I was told I have to get my dose of protein in within that half hour window of work-out completion. Never too late to get fit.
I was warned to chill, and just go with the flow. A part of me starts to become a worrywart - simply because the girly-side of me desires one thing, and conveys another… because in the long run I want to know that this guy is in this thing to win it. He’s all I think about it all day, every damn day, and it’s consuming me. I asked the love gods for someone with substance, and now that he’s here, cue Whitney’s “How Will I Know?”
I’m spilling out of my cup.
Not simple, not complex.
But I like this thing.
I like what we have when I’m with you.
No one would understand if I told them.
I myself, don’t know how to explain it.
Laughter and smiles fill up to the brim.
It’s not run-of-the-mill.
It’s not lust.
It’s more than that.
What do you do when you strike gold?