writeherlifeoutloud.

Hi, I'm Chelsea. I'm on a journey in a new city with new ideas.

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

Titles are lame.

unlock. Unlock the door and free the mind. 

Or, freeze the mind and lock the door.

What’s this all for anyway? 

Years have passed since I’ve graced your presence. 

This platform

How often does it feel like we have come so far just to be left right back where we began? we 

we talk in we’s as if it makes us safe.

protected. but when we is actually I - what then? 

I feel 

empty but 

full of 

rage / tears / uncertainty / space / and 

I hate that I always want it from someone other than me. 

How are we this far along and yet I am back to square one? 

how have we missed the mark? 

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

but what if i fall

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

but what if we fly?

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

but what if i fall

[thequotejournals]

I promise you, no one judges me more harshly than I do myself; I caused a brilliant wreckage. Some say I fell from grace; they’re being kind. I didn’t fall – I dove.

~ Sue Monk Kidd, The Mermaid Chair (via conflictingheart)

[averagefairy]

“you didn’t see republicans storming the streets when obama was elected” when did obama ever threaten your rights. to your body, to your marriage, to your religion, to safety within your own country. the only thing he ever threatened to take from you was your own white supremacist comfort

[upward-bound]

To all my POC, women, LGBTQ+, non able-bodied, immigrant, Latino, Muslim friends and followers – and to the future of our environment, our planet, and those who will feel this wave on an insurmountable scale – I am so sorry, and I love you, and we’ll stand with you and fight for you no matter what happens.

[artistformerlyknownasbutttrumpet]

what do we do tho? like, honestly? what happens if he’s elected? what do we honest to god do?

[slowspinningredemption]

Coming from the UK after our own catastrophe: you make his life hell. You make his government’s life hell. Anything and everything shitty that they want to do, you protest, you campaign, you petition, you lobby. You tie the whole thing up in so much red tape that Mr I’ve-Never-Had-Anyone-Say-No-To-Me starts loathing his job.

You create private safe zones, you look out for one another, you let your now validated racist, homophobic, transphobic neighbours know that their bigotry will not be tolerated through any means you feel it’s safe to do so. You join forces. Despite everything, you thrive out of spite, out of survival, out of a need to protect your own.

All of these communities have faced untold amounts of hell before and we’re all still here. It’s in our history to survive – in our genetic makeup. There will be losses and there will be casualties but in four years you’ll still be here and you’ll vote him out and the time to grieve will be then. For now, fight. In any way you can, even if all you can do is get through each day at a time. Fight him every step of the way.

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

i’m not okay.

[bepeu-deactivated20171202]

i need a group chat with my parallel universe me’s im getting worried abt them

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

untitled

I write when the life pages don’t make sense and I can’t see where they are headed. It’s a strange thing, wanting something, something unknown, and that’s the thing about it. It has to be unknown. 

How do I know the unknown is better? I don’t but the question really isn’t what is better but what is different? What can teach me something else I don’t yet know?

Discipline is a thing that one has to work towards. And least, it is in my case. I want too many things maybe, but is it better to settle and accept where you are? I don't think you fully comprehend what it took me to get here. Walking out of my mother’s house, wearing a sports bra and carrying a bag with my computer and a phone charger and whatever else was left in it from prior use. Writing to make money so I could buy a one-way ticket out. Finding a job in California to make ends meet. And working hard to find two jobs so when I came back to Texas I had a place to stay and money to survive. 

And I didn’t stop, I couldn’t. Because stopping meant giving in. I applied for a fellowship I wouldn’t have dreamed of two years before. But all I knew was I wanted something, something intangible, foreign, unfamiliar, biting. Something that would wake me up, shake my being, and give me a reason. Because the reason I had throughout my childhood was no longer there.

And what is love? We forever ask ourselves. The poets ask. The filmmaker. The artist. Is it real? Can you have it? And if you do, would you risk losing it? 

Maybe we get it wrong, thinking it’s a “thing” that can be “had” or “found” or “given”. What if it’s you and me --- us? Every part of we.

it is a simple thing to say  something                       but to say what’s true or to stay silent, knowingly this is

[the-future-now-deactivated20170]

Watch: This hilarious ad perfectly skewers the belief that girls can’t code

Follow @the-future-now​

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

YAS.

[wnq-movies]

You go through spells where you feel that maybe you’re too sensitive for this world. I certainly felt that.

Winona Ryder (via wnq-movies)

some days

[romilatravelstheworld-deactivat]

You’re not supposed to be here, you know. Contemplative. Analaytical. Musing. Navigating through life like a confident sailor risking a voyage through the night. Don’t you hear the boat knocking? Tipping you off balance? The waves beating against the day? “You’re supposed to be drowning,” it reminds you, waiting to hear you choke on the sentence you were halfway through. How did you change your trajectory? How did you respond to the world so eloquently when the only way to quench it was to see you fall? “I am made of 10,000 hours of persistence,” you reply calmly and it looks at you knowing you could swim across the Atlantic if you had to. You are your own gravitational force, you discover one evening as you watched the ground move around you with a sway of your hand. And you smile because you remember: it may be the ocean that has shipwrecked countless others, but it’s the moon that pulls it to do so.

Romila Barryman / Summer Night Series: You Be The Moon, I’ll Be The Water / Tla’amin Territory, BC (via romilatravelstheworld)

[misswallflower]

August. We were arguing. You want love to be like this every day don’t you? 92 degrees even in the shade.

~ Jeanette Winterson, “Written on the Body” (via conflictingheart)

[poems-and-words]

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

amen sister christian

[writeherlifeoutloud-blog]

i do not want

i spent my days oscillating between terror and bliss - a moment where life cannot be more sweet and suddenly shaken by the fearful night of what-if’s and maybe-nots. i fear what may never happen and limitations that i have with myself. i do not want to be frail. 

[onpeopleblog-blog-deactivated20]

On silence

“I don’t know, it seems like lately I don’t say what I feel, just what people want to hear.” “At least it looks like they want to hear you.” “I don’t think so. Probably they just feel more comfortable seeing words like that coming out of me.” “Then you know there’s only one way to be true to yourself.” “Remain silent?” “Remain silent.”

glapimenta