In honor of Autumn coming soon, here are some happy dogs that love the fall weather are aren’t afraid to show it. Have a great day everyone.
I walk around campus in the dark, by myself. Its cold out, September settling in like flowers wilting in a vase. I wrap the navy sweater around me, fidgeting with the gold buttons, running my fingers over the filigree patterns. I see other people walking by. I see boys walk by. I see that boy walk by. And im not angry anymore, not even ashamed or hurt, but instead I wonder what possessed him to be so cruel, whether it was knowingly or not. Frankly, I don’t know him, and he doesn’t know me. But I talked to Dylan tonight, and I agree with what he said: all you can do is try to be the best person you can be to every person you meet. There is a simplistic truth in that, a beauty hidden that most people can’t see. So I walk by him without sparing a glance, feeling the darkness swallow me as I leave the parking lot lights behind. Maybe we all just forget how fragile we are. Maybe some people just don’t care. Either way, I can still empathize with him, despite what he did. I can still picture what his life might be like, or the scars that I never saw. Because we aren’t all cut and cast from the same mold. Maybe his mother never taught him to respect women. Maybe the lack of a father in my life has created a constant craving inside of me for approval from men. I want to hear them tell me I’m pretty, even if it means I have to sacrifice my dignity. I’m not sure what exactly makes us different from each other. Because inside we all work the same, our organs are small watch parts ticking in unison, our breaths all entangled in the same web of the trachea, the aches in our joints all sting like bees, but the aches in our hearts are so very different. Maybe it’s your parents, the school you went to, the environment you grew up, the shape of your face, or the color of your eyes. Maybe it’s the myriad of genetic differences transcribed into our DNA, the way each germ cell so peculiarly crosses over in meiosis. It could be the dopamine levels in our brains, or our IQ’s. It could be that some of us feel more entitled to respect and dignity because they’ve earned it, or because it’s all they have ever known.
I come in my dorm room at 2 in the morning and hear his milky voice in the room over as I change in the closet. He made me feel like a disease, so disgusting. But the full-length mirror shows my whole body and face and hair and hands, and its beautiful. People like him are just lessons to be learned that the textbook cant ever teach. People like him show you how to love yourself, how to hold the door for the girl with a broken ankle, how to tell someone they look nice tonight, how to tutor a friend in chemistry, how to share a sympathetic bond with an abused animal down at the clinic. Because our own heads are not the only ones the need to be held above water, everyone is bound to start drowning. So next time I want to tread over others, hopefully I can remember that those footprints with stay imprinted on them forever. Id much rather it be the tattoo of my palm against theirs when I help them off the ground.
Milan Kundera (via dogs-dogs-dogs)
I DONT CARE THIS IS CATCHY AS FUCKKKK
Sheryl Sandberg, Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead (via larmoyante)