1) The Happiness Project
2) I am an emotional creature
3) Life is a Verb
4) Moby Dick
I want these. yup.
I…. Ok.
I am giving up a tiny piece of me today. I know that this part of me is not classy, it is not wanted by my future, nor is it wanted by my bank account. But in retro, My mornings love this little me, my lunch breaks seem to be more enjoyable, as well as a lil weekend sip.
Puffing ciggs is what has become like a little part of my inner self. I have bonded with my time smoking heaters. There is nothing like a delicious cup of coffee and a cigg, or a heavy and homemade mexican meal with a cigg after, or to think about all the wonderful conversations I have had while having a puff.
I will have to find pleasure in all of these things without my lil smokey being with me.
This has become an elephant size goal in my life.
I have to will kick the habit, I never thought I would hear myself thinking that thought, but its now or trouble.
Ill miss you coffee,lunch breaks, and convo cigg time.
Love your ex heater puffer.
Dear Emotional Creature,
You know who you are. I believe in your authenticity, your uniqueness, your intensity, your wildness. I love the way you dye your hair purple, or hike up your short skirt. I love your restlessness and your hunger. You are one of our greatest natural resources. You possess a necessary agency and energy that if unleashed could transform, inspire, and heal the world. You scare us. You remind us of what we have been forced to shut down or abandon in ourselves in order to fit in. Everyone seems to have a certain way they want you to be— your mother, father, teachers, religious leaders, politicians, boyfriends, fashion gurus, celebrities, girlfriends. In researching this book I came upon a very disturbing statistic: 74 percent of you say you are under pressure to please everyone. I have done a lot of thinking about what it means to please. To please, to embody the wish or will of somebody other than yourself. To please the fashion setters, we starve ourselves. To please boys, we push ourselves when we aren’t ready. To please our parents, we become insane overachievers. If you are trying to please, how do you take responsibility for your own needs? How do you even know what your own needs are? What do you have to cut off in yourself in order to please others? I think the act of pleasing makes everything murky. We lose track of ourselves. We stop uttering declaratory sentences. We stop directing our lives. We wait to be rescued. We forget what we know. We make everything okay rather than real. I see how your lives get hijacked, how your opinions and desires get denied and undone. I see too how this later comes to determine so much of our lives as adults. So many of the women I have me are still trying to overcome what was muted or undone in them when they were young. They are struggling late into their lives to know their desires, to find their power and their way. This book is a call to question rather than to please. To provoke, to challenge, to dare, to satisfy your own imagination and appetite. To know yourself truly. To take responsibility for who you are, to engage. This book is a call to listen to the voice inside you that might want something different, that hears, that knows, the way only you can hear and know. It’s a call to your original girl self, to your emotional creature self, to move at your speed, to walk with your step, to wear your color. When I was your age, I didn’t know how to live as an emotional creature. I felt like an alien. I still do a lot of the time. I am older now. I finally know the difference between pleasing and loving, obeying and respecting. It has taken me so many years to be okay with being different, with being this alive, this intense. I just don’t want you to have to wait that long.
Love,
Eve Ensler
I Am an Emotional Creature
I can not stop thinking about the children in Haiti. This sounds a little bit intense, but I just want to know everything about how these children are surviving.
Okay, glad I was able to drop that off my chesty.
I wish I had a job where it was me who was able to jump on a flight and go rock little haiti babys. While the mothers told me about their fears, and I could speak and listen and stay up for days doing all the helping I can.
This is not an option, so instead I wish I could write letters to them. they could write back. also not an option.
I am puzzled by what I can do to help these families, I will continue to research the horrible disaster. and think outside the box about what a woman with no cash dollars can do to help a million miles away.
hmmm.
But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first,
some unfinished business, time still to be served, a debt to be paid.
At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life.
This perspective has helped me to see there is no way to happiness.
Happiness is the way.
So treasure every moment you have and remember that time waits for no one.
Happiness is a journey, not a destination.
romping -romp (r mp) intr.v. romped, romp·ing, romps. 1. To play or frolic boisterously. 2. To run or advance in a rapid or easy manner. 3. Slang To win a race or game easily.
I could do some quality romp-ing in any of these rompers. love. love. them.
Slang to Win. I slang any bitches. yeeeaah.
I have missed out on so much….pages and pages of faithful tumblrs….Getting back to the roots of what makes me happy. writing. searching. reading.
So much has gone down since my last lil postings, winter is here, sitting outside is only for warm coats on animals.
Much more to come.
Bootcamp workout tonight.
More freetime.
No school.
More of Me-Time.
Let my Life Begin.
its 2010 Bitches.
Peace & Love. Life.
