Twenty-five years of being lost, going down the wrong road, laughing it off, faking a smile, and then writing about it.
I was born and raised in Connecticut and recently graduated from Cal. State, Fullerton . . . what happened in between all of that, will bleed through my entries.
What will happen after? Well . . .
. . . I’ll let you know.
I’m not sure where I’m going, but if you’d like to tag along, I know some good jokes . . . kinda.
~ Jess Aronin
Ideally
And I don’t want someone who is going to push me away, I want someone who is going to pull me so close I can’t breathe.
Read MoreGatorade
No amount of gatorade is going to make these feelings go away.
No amount of gatorade is going to help me catch my breath…
Not like it used to.
Not really.
Inside out
No one sees her pain, just the BMW keychain.
Money can’t buy happiness: she is (barely) living proof.
Maybe because we’re all moving so fast and her thoughts are racing even faster: slow it down.
Maybe because you can’t see tears in the rain: umbrella out.
Maybe it’s because we are all just broken pieces of glass trying to put each other back together but no one has any glue, just sharp edges: help me now.
Speechless
I wonder what life is like for them…
for those people who can just say those five words without choking up.
Without turning red.
Without being terrified that someone will catch on but secretly hoping that someone will.
twenty-eight
Her story is not over yet, nor has it really begun.
She has no pen in hand, a pencil is all she has ever known.
Carving lines and then trying to erase.
But just like during math class, it doesn’t all always go away.
Because she can only erase so many times until the page just rips.
She can’t start from scratch, she’s got the world at her finger tips.
For her hands are too heavy and her eyes are too full.
She’s seen far too much, she’s twenty-two years OLD.
Gray is Okay
Say “it’s nice to see you” and I’d say “it’d be nice to see…”
To see from someone else’s eyes, to see not so harshly.
To stop seeing just black and white,
why discriminate?
This ain’t the 30’s.
Cliché
Love.
Hmm..
Was it “too soon” to say “I love you”?
And if it was “too soon”, who cares?
By whose standards was it too soon?
Too little (never) too late
Little girls grow up to not like the brand of cheese you’ve been getting since they were little, to wear a shirt that you would never allow them to buy, to eat ice cream for dinner and pizza for breakfast and to not say thank you to every God damn person that holds the door open for them on Monday morning.
Read MoreHave your cake & ENJOY EATING IT too
Having an eating disorder is like having a personal assistant that you didn’t hire or want.
This personal assistant convinces you that she wants what is best for you and not to worry about a thing, for she will take care of it all.
You don’t even have to think, for she will make decisions for you
Afraid of the dark
Mom: So if everyone jumped off a bridge, you would too?
As annoying as it is to hear mom say that, could there maybe be some logic behind it?
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