Finding Others...

Admit it. You aren’t like them. You’re not even close. You may occasionally dress yourself up as one of them, watch the same mindless television shows as they do, maybe even eat the same fast food sometimes. But it seems that the more you try to fit in, the more you feel like an outsider, watching the “normal people” as they go about their automatic existences. For every time you say club passwords like “Have a nice day” and “Weather’s awful today, eh?”, you yearn inside to say forbidden things like “Tell me something that makes you cry” or “What do you think Déjà vu is for?”. Face it, you even want to talk to that girl in the elevator. But what if that girl in the elevator (and the balding man who walks past your cubicle at work) are thinking the same thing? Who knows what you might learn from taking a chance on conversation with a stranger? Everyone carries a piece of the puzzle. Nobody comes into your life by mere coincidence. Trust your instincts. Do the unexpected. Find the others…

― Timothy Leary

Not even make-believe

Not So Usual

This is the most unusual story, of the most unusual girl.
She's the paint in my picture, of a most unusual world.
She can crawl out of frame while she's hangin' on the wall.
And she's callin' my name. She's not so usual.

Oh no. She's not so usual. Oh no.

She's mostly a ghost (the way she watches over me).
She complains when I smoke but then would do the same to me.
She's controlling my brain activity, (knowing when I go to sleep).
She's gonna catch me when I'm fallin' hard. She's the most unusual.

I know. She's not so usual.
I know she's not so usual.
Oh no. She's not so usual.

She's not so hooked on the drugs like I thought that she was.
And never suckin' on the lime, and hardly sipping on the wine.
And despite of her bipolar rollercoastering.
I think I can trust she'll keep me singing differently.
And it's fine cause she's with me now, most all of the time.
Trying to saving my life, thinking none of her own.
And always kissing me goodnight, when I just need to be alone.
She's so sweet. So discrete.
She's exactly what I need now not even make believe.

She's not so usual.
She's not so u.

I said she's not so, not so usual, u.
But she's not too practical neither babe.
I said she's not so, not so mystical.
Not too magical either cause she say so.
Not so out of control, and not so into the phone.

She's not so USUAL! She's a natural. She's not so usual.
Oh oh! Oh oh! All she wants to do is sold...

She's not so u.
She's not u.
Not so new!

Symptoms of Inner Peace

1. A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences.
2. An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment.
3. Loss of interest in judging other people.
4. Loss of interest in judging self.
5. Loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others.
6. Loss of interest in conflict.
7. Loss of ability to worry.
8. Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation.
9. Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature.
10. Frequent attacks of smiling.
11. An increasing tendency to let things happen rather than feeling the need to make them happen.
12. An increased susceptibility to love extended by others and the uncontrollable urge to extend it.

by Saskia Davis

source

Thug Kitchen

WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN ALL MY LIFE, THUG KITCHEN ?!

This shit is hilarious, yo.

I just made Roasted Chick Pea and Broccoli Burritos (note to self: make sure avocados are for reals and slash or salsa is happening). I used arugula instead of spinach, and made sorta... soft tacos with corn tortillas. WHO'S GONNA GIVE A FUCK, THE EATING-LIKE-YOU-GIVE-A-SHIT POLICE??!

This is the pic I took and cried over because I couldn't upload it in all its glory to Instagram. I weep. It is spectacular, no?

"Before I even put that shit in the oven."