.

There was a girl 

On the bus today

Who's simple imperfections 

Made me fall in love 

For a brief moment 

As our eyes made contact 

And she brushed the fly away out of her eyes 

It made me reflect 

On how intimate summer is 

It exposes the true nature of our hair 

The small imperfections of our skin 

Clothes shrink 

As the humidity expands 

And makes innocent bystanders 

Fall ever so slightly 

In a fleeting moment 

Head over heels in love

With girls on the bus 

Evil or Misunderstood?

Hello my lovelies,

Recently I've been thinking about either or not people are inherently evil or not.

It's a controversial topic, because people love to place the blame on someone and build up the image that this person is 100% evil. These people are in a sense scapegoats for the actions of many. A fairly common post I've seen circulating the interwebs is a photo set of Hitler posing with a bunch of children. For a lot of people this is shocking because in school we learn that Hitler is an evil, evil man who killed thousands of innocent people and was the driving force in World War 2. In reality, yes Hitler was a very bad man. But he was doing what he thought would improve his country. During that time Germany was in debt and people were suffering

In many cases, it's easier to blame things on other people. This allows for us to relieve some of the guilt we feel from past events. We're able to mentally eliminate any possible way we could've contributed to this horrible event. But, realistically, if we look at things from an unbiased view are people completely evil?

In order to fully discuss this you need to think about what the definition of evil is. Is it when someone commits an act of violence or harm on another, innocent person? Or does someone have to essentially live an evil lifestyle for them to be whole heartedly evil?

For the sake of simplicity we're going to say that being "evil" is when a person does something to harm another living being.

What got me thinking about this topic was a recent hangout with an old friend. Let's call him grá caite. So he and I have a lot of history, we used to date but now we're just very close friends. We went to the same high school and there he had the reputation of being in some forms "evil". He's had a couple run ins with the law, and he's gotten in many fights. From someone looking in we look like the weirdest and most unlikely duo, but somehow it just works.

In any case, whenever I tell my other friends that I hang out with him they can never understand why I still talk to him. "he's an asshole" "he's so mean" etc, etc.

Now see, they only see the outer workings of him. They only see the asshole persona he put on for most people. But like most people, if you get to know them and you get close to them, they'll eventually open up to you.

This is the case with my dear grá caite. Just recently he opened up and showed his true colours to me and that there was something so special and so personnel it fills my heart with warmth just thinking about it. There's something very meaningful behind someone opening themselves up to their most vulnerable state to you that I live for.

One of my coworkers once told me that I had a face that seems to make everyone just want to tell me their life stories. To many people that would be annoying, but to me that's a really big compliment. I like to think that I'd be there for anyone who needs me, all they have to do is reach out for support and I'd be there for them.

Regardless, till later my internet hipsters,

-Caitlin xoxo

Gateway to Happiness

My lovelies, I'm fed up.

Yes I know, not the usual introductory sentence but hey, it speaks the upmost truth.

I'm so done with romanticizing and allowing my happiness to be put in control of others.

Yeah, I know this is all very sudden, just bare with me.

So last night I was minding my own business, sleeping and shit when my brain decided that it was a good time to plague my dreams with the though of Saint Jimmy.

I know what you're thinking. "Oh god, here we go again. She's off on another rant about a boy she never had a chance with in the first place."

First of all, you're only partially right. I've come to the realization that my relationship with Saint Jimmy was doomed from the start, that there was no way we could last. We were such different people with such diverse opinions and strong personalities that we clashed. We tore each other down as we were building each other up. It was toxic and scary.

Now all of that to say, that didn't  mean it wasn't REAL.

Adults always say that teenagers are too young to feel real emotions, that the hormones that run rampant in our blood stream cause us to be melo-dramatic. That our brain still isn't fully formed, thus we can't even fathom the intensity of emotions and responsibilities.

I'd just like to put it out there that they're WRONG.

Regardless of my age I have felt the overwhelming power of love, and the devastating reality of heartbreak. I may still be maturing and growing, but that doesn't cast a haze on one of the most powerful emotions known to mankind.

Another misconception of love is that it needs time to grow and mature as well.

"Oh you guys only dated for x many months, it can't have been real love."

"If you guys really did love one another you would've lasted longer"

I have had the pleasure and the pain of experiencing many a relationship and breakup in my short time on this earth. One relationship laster for almost 10 months and I can honestly say I did not love that guy. One lasted a little over a month and I can just as honestly state that I loved that man with every ounce of my being.

Time and age are not a factor that determines how someone feels.

Another thing I've come to realize is that the most devastating thing you can do to yourself is give someone the credit of your happiness.

Last year I went through the toughest year of my life up until this point. I had lost myself, my motivation and my will to continue my sorry excuse for a life.

Many days instead of going to class I would go to a park near my house and gaze up at the sky wondering why I was put on this earth. I began to blame myself for things that were completely out of my control, like my grandpa's death. I didn't care about school or grades or having a future. Most of the time I felt numb to the world, like I had forgotten hoe to feel. When I didn't feel numb I felt the saddest I had ever felt. It was as if there was a black hole in my chest that ate away at my life force and my will to continue.

Through all of this there was one person who didn't hesitate to crack jokes non stop.

That was Saint-Jimmy. He doesn't realize it, nor will he probably ever know but he is what got me through last year. That, and the unconditional love I received from my friends when I finally found the courage to open up to them.

Unknowingly I had put the source of my happiness in the hands of Saint Jimmy. He became my reason to smile, the gateway to feeling some sort of emotion other than sad. He was the world I wanted to live in. It was like going to the zoo in order to get a glimpse of the snake in the reptile enclosure. You knew it was always going to be there, but there were times it was closed, or you couldn't see it.

I became dependant on his ability to make me feel. He was my drug of choice. He held the key to unlocking that part of me that I had lost what seemed like years ago. I needed him.

That just made it all the more devastating when he left.

What happens, might I ask you, if you take away a junkie's fix?

How long are they able to cope before it drives them to insanity?

It's been over a year now, and I've learned to cope.

No, it wasn't easy. No, it wasn't a complete success story. No I'm not better, I'm just surviving.

How did this all come to mind, you may ask. Why is it resurfacing now? Don't you have other things to occupy your time?

Well, last night I dreamt that we had been able to work out our differences, that Saint Jimmy and I were finally happy.

Then I woke up.

It was like ripping a bandaid off slowly.

I'm not going to lie, I cried. I don't know if it was from the sadness of waking up from happiness, or from the utter humiliation and frustration I felt in light of it.

I absolutely HATE the fact that he still makes me this happy.

I HATE the fact that my brain is still idolizing him and romanticizing  a relationship with him.

I HATE the fact that my brain can't just forget it ever happened because he was the source of my joy for a period of time.

But, realistically, what can you do...?

This is why I've decided that this year is the year of me.

This is the year I take better care of myself. This is the year I learn to finally love and accept myself. This is the year I figure out how to make me happy.

This is the year I find a new, dependable source of happiness, be it art or otherwise.

I am going to love myself, and from there beautiful things can begin to happen.

Thank you my Internet Hipsters, and good night <3


-Caitlin xoxo