if you greet your dog with a hug every time you return home
the flavor of toothpaste you use (I hate cinnamon flavored, personally)
if you like milk or sugar in your coffee and how much of each
if you are allergic to peanuts or grass or pollen or something ridiculous like pumpkins (I am)
if you call your mom every week or only on the major holidays
the tv show you watch as a guilty pleasure when you’re bored
what you do after a long day of work to relax
the way you smell (fresh cotton laundry detergent with a hint of something I can’t figure out)
the number of miles between us
the sound of your voice when you are sad
if your cheeks turn a bright pink or a deep red when you blush
the exact color of your eyes (kind of blue with splotches of green and brown)
the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth when I can’t hear it
if you think about me at all
if you miss me at all
if you love me at all
If I love you at all (actually, I think I know this one)
If any of this is even worth it (this is the hardest one)
Hey everyone! On this blog, I’ve accumulated a fair amount of followers. As you all know, The Bottom of the Ocean is my theme. Though I have never really explained it, that phrase means a lot to me. Together, with two of my closest friends, who are also english majors, I am starting a new blog that puts strength to this phrase and explains it.
Here’s the URL: bottomoftheoceanblog.wordpress.com
So, what is the ocean?
You are the ocean. You have the ability to hold so many different treasures and lost belongings. Imagine being free to dive in and collect all those loose memories and creative, thoughts, then having a place to recollect all of that on page, on an easel, in a camera, wherever. Then, imagine showing it to the world in a manner as unique and as expressive as you are. Our blog is the place to do this: to vent, to be inspired, and to inspire others.
The point of this post is to encourage all of you to send your support our way. We have not yet started posting (we’re making sure everything is perfect first) but in time, our blog will be an interactive platform where you can share your ideas and be inspired by works of arts from new artists every week. We will feature works of arts from all of our followers and the best part about our blog is that it can be any medium! We are not limited to just writing if you can create it, it is art. We will also have prompts up each week to inspire you to not only keep creating, but to discover what lies deep within you, that is, what is at the bottom of your ocean?
Anyway, if you’ve read up until this point, thank you so much. Please give my new blog a follow and stick around, I promise you it will be a very fun blog to follow. Again, here is the link to follow:
“You’ll find someone” I say to myself, as I squeezed the pudge on each side of my stomach. I examine every inch of my body in the mirror, wondering if it’s the love handles on my hips or my not-so-white smile or maybe even my boring brown eyes that make me not appealing. “You’ll find somebody” I repeat, looking myself dead in the eyes, searching for confidence but only finding fear and self-pity. They keep telling me that I will find somebody, it happens to everyone eventually. But I don’t want eventually, I want right here and right now. I want something, anything, and all I ever get is nothing. I believe that people take getting their heart broken for granted. I’ll gladly get my heart broken if it means that for once in my life, I feel anything other than nothing. I watch my best friend, who is the most beautiful person I have ever known, doubt herself and it makes me hate myself even more. If she is ten times prettier than me and she is lonely, what will ever happen to me? I look at her and I look at myself and we are so sad. Why do we base our happiness on the idea that a guy will look at us and call is beautiful? We both acknowledge that we are wrong to do so, yet we still place our happiness and our confidence in the idea that we are not appealing. If I can look at myself and say “Kacie, you are beautiful, don’t worry about not having a boyfriend. You don’t need that.” If I can look at myself and say that, why the fuck don’t I believe it? What is so wrong with this world that I can base my value off of how many boys I have (or haven’t) kissed. Something is wrong with this picture. If I can sit here and write an entire story on why this is wrong, yet never change, something is wrong. This comes from the genuine, human emotion of being wanted. I want to be wanted. Everyone wants to be wanted. Sometimes, you don’t feel wanted. Even if I have a loving family, an amazing best friend, and a million other friends who would be heartbroken if I were to pass, I still hate myself because I don’t have a man to tell me I am beautiful. I have been wanted my entire life, just not by the right person. What is wrong with me that all of this happiness is cancelled out the absence of a guy that doesn’t even exist yet. You’ll find someone, they tell me. But shouldn’t they tell me that I should find myself first?
The clouds moved in suddenly, strangely, and they sat there, suspended by strings. Oh how I wanted to climb a ladder up high and sit myself upon one of them and forget everything that ever happened. Maybe, just maybe, my body could be taken in by the clouds and I could sink deep down into the sky where no one would ever think to look for me. I would make friends with the stars that come out at night because I know they’re already dead, they won’t bother me. I’d use the crescent moon as my bed and I would sleep away the rest of my years quietly and contently. I would be at peace, as a child of the sky, and I would never again set foot on ground.