nothing is more painful. than missing a jew.
(Source: somewhereclosetolondon, via palms-painted-gold)
The hardest thing I have ever had to do was be in a long distance relationship and actually falling in love. I fell harder than falling off that man built swing in my aunt’s backyard that was held by worn out ropes and machete cut pieces of green water hose material, when I was seven. The things that make me happy are the things that bring me sadness because I don’t have them. Not having him. Maybe the first time I fell in love it shouldn’t have been that kid from high school with the impeccable smile and over worn red jacket he luckily threw away in college. No not the kid that was incredibly stoned at a dance performance in school while trying to get to know me. Not the kid that lives 1,000 miles away and can’t hold me at night like I wish he could. Not the kid that makes me turn inside out because nothing in my entire life felt so real and unreal at the same time. Not the kid that I want to spend the rest of my life with or what it seems from my young nineteen year old heart. I can fantasize about my future with him a million times over, me a well respected lawyer in my gorgeous two floor house, with incredible dark wood furniture made entirely by him. I can picture the kids a bunch of olive tan or even pale skinned dark brown haired boys running around and later sent to the pillow room when misbehaving. I can see everything; I can wait the world for him and could wait in my apartment for years to come when he finishes art school, lives in Israel all of it I can wait. I can never understand how it happened. How one person can create so much within me and as to make me willing to do anything? I have never loved the way I love him. I didn’t believe in being so naïve. Brian Fata turned out to be my biggest weakness. To make me give up almost anything, I always considered myself one of those women who put themselves above anything, I also found out that love is selfless and for that I would give anything up, for true love itself. I love everything about him, I long for his hands to sweep across my body, his soft kisses on my neck at night that make me turn pink figuratively anyways, I long his arms around my waist making me feel small and protected in his loving warmth. I live for the moments my heart performs 45 flips as if in the Olympics. His laugh when I tickle him by just sliding my hand through his back, the taste of his lips. How he kisses me in the morning even after I tell him my breath stinks but he doesn’t care. I love how he thinks I’m beautiful no matter what horrifying face I’m making or when I have boogers in my eyes and still when I refuse to where make up. I love him for making me always feel at home, there’s nothing that I need. Nothing at all. I don’t want to move an inch away from him, when I have to go through the dreaded flight back home all I do is cry like a baby to the passenger next to me dwelling my love story of me living in Florida and him in Michigan. How I hate that I rejected him in high school and how he makes me feel so incredible. Never stops reminding me of how much of a bad ass I am as a chick, intelligent sassy and funny and how lucky he is to have me. Missing him doesn’t describe the pain of having to go each and every day without your best friend, person you tell your fears, mommy issues, desires, embarrassing secrets and so on.(You know you love someone when you don’t care if you fart around them anymore) No he is not just someone I find immensely attractive and irresistible he’s my best friend that won’t judge me and can make a long day feel like it never happened. Without him, I would have never experienced real happiness. I would have never found love. It didn’t ask me on a date at a club it sat next to me on a long bus ride home from the happiest place on earth.
Farewell of the Day: Aaron Swartz
Aaron Swartz, a computer programmer and Internet activist best known for his contributions to RSS 1.0, Reddit and Demand Progress, has passed away at age of 26. Found dead at his Crown Heights residence on January 11th, the cause of his death has been since identified as suicide by hanging. The tragic news came only months before his trial on felony hacking charges was set to begin, as Swartz had been indicted in July 2011 on federal charges of allegedly hacking into the academic paper subscription service JSTOR and downloading nearly all of its archives with intent to distribute them for free via file-sharing networks. In mourning his death, Anonymous has already launched a hacking campaign against M.I.T websites.
Did some scans of the large painting I’ve been working on, I actually might just consider it finished because I’m sure if I add anything else it’ll be destroyed. Oil on paper.