@misslexx - Tumblr Blog

sosuperawesome

Illustrations for the Uppercase Planner by Simini Blocker on Tumblr

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cassandraclare

I love this! Look at the Clockwork Angel quote! What good company to be in.

stirfrizzy-deactivated20200804

Pop-Punk/Emo illustrations by me @stirfrizzy

Prints now available!

oessa

fireworks on sunday it was so beautiful and kind of looks like space

acutelesbian

A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 17 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That their lover’s once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer sexy, just another distraction in your busy life. Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes.

fat-thin-skinny

this fucks me up every single time

acutelesbian

I never expected this to be my most popular poem out of the hundreds I’ve written. I was extremely bitter and sad when I wrote this and I left out the most beautiful part of that class.

After my teacher introduced us to this theory, she asked us, “is love a feeling? Or is it a choice?” We were all a bunch of teenagers. Naturally we said it was a feeling. She said that if we clung to that belief, we’d never have a lasting relationship of any sort.

She made us interview a dozen adults who were or had been married and we asked them about their marriages and why it lasted or why it failed. At the end, I asked every single person if love was an emotion or a choice.

Everybody said that it was a choice. It was a conscious commitment. It was something you choose to make work every day with a person who has chosen the same thing. They all said that at one point in their marriage, the “feeling of love” had vanished or faded and they weren’t happy. They said feelings are always changing and you cannot build something that will last on such a shaky foundation.

The married ones said that when things were bad, they chose to open the communication, chose to identify what broke and how to fix it, and chose to recreate something worth falling in love with.

The divorced ones said they chose to walk away.

Ever since that class, since that project, I never looked at relationships the same way. I understood why arranged marriages were successful. I discovered the difference in feelings and commitments. I’ve never gone for the person who makes my heart flutter or my head spin. I’ve chosen the people who were committed to choosing me, dedicated to finding something to adore even on the ugliest days.

I no longer fear the day someone who swore I was their universe can no longer see the stars in my eyes as long as they still choose to look until they find them again.

conceitedtrash

This is so fucking important and I think it’s something I needed right now

#relevant

humansofnewyork

“I smoked dope every day for twenty years. I thought I was pretty slick. I could smoke while working. I could get high and still run my company. I could pour concrete. I could roof a building. I felt like I could do anything. But it ruined my marriage. I didn’t even realize it until years after my wife left me. But the dope ruined my marriage because it made me content. Nothing could bother me. Her feelings didn’t bother me. Her needs didn’t bother me. The dope put an emotional cover over what should have been obvious. I told myself that if I didn’t see the problem, then it didn’t qualify as a problem. All I ever did was give her advice. I never asked for it. I never once felt the inspiration to say: ‘Darling, I know there’s something wrong. What can I do differently?’”

eternally-lost-deactivated20190

bigbaldhead-deactivated20241021

🎈

bryandaugherty

fishingboatproceeds

This is me with Hussam, a 15-year-old Syrian refugee living in a shelter with his mother and brother in the Azraq refugee camp.

Hussam learned to speak English in three months with the help of a CARE volunteer (after just three months of study, he is basically fluent) and excels in school. He told me his family is “split in four parts.” His father and one brother sought asylum in Germany; another brother got a scholarship to university in Turkey, and his two married sisters are still in Syria. He hasn’t seen his sisters, brother, or father in more than a year.

When I asked Hussam why he and his family left Syria, he said, “My school was bombed.” I asked if he was in the school at the time; he nodded and began to cry. I asked him if he was injured and he said, “No, but my best friend was killed.”

Most of the refugees I met in Syria have photographs of friends and family stored only on phones. Later in our conversation, Hussam took out his phone and showed me some pictures of his dad and brother in Germany, and I asked if he had a picture of his best friend. He said “Yes,” and sorted through the pictures for a moment before handing me the phone.

It showed a picture of a dead adolescent boy, his face disfigured by trauma. “That is the only picture I have,” he said.

Hussam and I spent a long time talking about the joys of reading–how reading about travel and adventure is a way of going on adventures even if you can’t in real life–and he also told me he loved writing stories. I asked him if he wanted to be a writer when he grew up.

“No,” he said. “I want to go to university and study to become an engineer.”

“Why an engineer?” I asked.

“Because we will need many engineers to rebuild Syria,” he said.