It’s a little odd to me that some people make it their mission to “win” a woman’s heart (or perhaps “winning” something a little more tangible?).
Last time I checked, a woman isn’t a game to be played, she’s a person to be loved.
Chivalry is (almost) dead.
The way most people see it, it’s a crutch: only the weak resort to it and only the weak are attracted by it. Everyone else who is more privileged with wit or charm or some other asset can afford to set it aside from time to time. Admittedly, weakness has its uses: some use it to create a facade of being ”sensitive” or “considerate” while others use it to take advantage of the unsuspecting. We may praise it open as something noble, but in reality it becomes a bit of an inconvenience.
It’s a tragedy to see that we live in a world in which virtue is considered a sin.
Just walk out of my life. Just like everyone else.
I absolutely hate this feeling. But God has better things in store. He always does.
She just stood there talking about how many guys didn’t compliment her… she stood there insecure…
“Hey excuse me… where is your smile? You’ve got a smile that brightens the day… Can I just say that I am truly amazed? You are beautiful through a real man’s eyes. You are beautiful… “
And that was all that was said.
And that was all that was needed to be said.
This Fishbowl Sink concept is a unique way to get people to preserve water. The water in the fishbowl decreases as you wash your hands. The idea is to force people to shut the water off in order to save the fish. Once the faucet is off, the water refills.
I saw it coming long before it ever started.
As the train pulls away from the station, I sit quietly with my hands tucked in my pockets on the old cast-iron bench just outside the station door. The feel of paper interrupts my brief escape from reality, and the rough fibers brush roughly against my fingers as I make an attempt to grasp it. It’s an old ticket, faded just like the leaves that fell the day it fell into my hands.
I don’t remember exactly where I was going at the time. Perhaps I was going nowhere, running away from home yet in search of one. But I remember that autumn day when I stopped before getting on the next train to pick up what I thought was a tiny, insignificant scrap.
Somehow, that scrap caused me to miss my train. Somehow, someone else had had the misfortune of missing her train as well. Somehow, a simple “Hi” and a smile to the stranger sitting on the other side of the bench began an unlikely conversation and, in time, an unlikely friendship.
Anyone else would have moved on and caught the next train, but we didn’t. Neither of us could afford to, and neither of us wanted to. So we stayed and talked, sometimes for brief minutes to long hours with only the stars to witness the quiet murmur of our voices.
The days passed us by like trains rushing onward to their distant destinations. She used to sit quietly and watch them leave, relieved that life didn’t have to go on as quickly as she feared. But even in our happiness, I knew that a train station is no place for a lady.
So I kept on waiting for just the right time for the right train to come. The right train to bring you to where you need to be. You needed to move on, and when it finally came, I was the one who walked you to the platform. You took your luggage. I left mine at the bench. As the train pulled away, when you reached your hand out to invite me to come aboard, I reached mine out to wave good-bye.
So here I am, watching a plume of pristine white steam fade away into the distance. I’m sitting at the same bench where it all started, but this time, I’m smiling at nothing. But it’s okay. I’m smiling for the future of a woman who is on her way to something better.
We’ll keep in touch, no doubt. A letter here, a phone call there, a meeting once in a while to talk and smile and laugh together again. It’ll be different, yes, but it’s what was meant to be.
Miss, I wish you all the best because you deserve nothing less.
AnonymousHaha, I was waiting for someone to ask me this. Hopefully this answers your question. http://dangitsdaaaaang.tumblr.com/post/14048700914/day-forty-six-miss
I don’t believe in keeping up appearances.
Actually, I’ve been dressing much worse than I’d like to for the past couple of years. People think I don’t realize that I don’t match well or that I always manage to wear as many unflattering outfits as possible, but to be honest, I assumed that most people would realize that one has to try to dress as badly as I do.
Of course, this creates an interesting reputation. But for me, it’s one of the best protective measures that I have for myself. For the most part, it’s managed to keep shallow and superficial people out of my life because those who truly care are the ones who can see past what is on the outside. I may not be the most well-liked person, but at least I know that those who do like me are sincere.
So maybe that’s why you avoid me, miss. After all, a pretty face like yours wouldn’t understand what it’s like to see things from the other side.
I believe it is possible to know everything about the world but still find that love is a mystery.
If you haven’t done so already, please help my friend (@doctorchair) and I win the YL Library Film Festival by creating an account and liking this short film we made on Vimeo! :)
Or you could just watch and enjoy it! That would mean a lot. :)
Thank you!
