“That’s the point. The guy I dreamed up doesn’t exist. And if he doesn’t exist, I’ll never die of a broken heart.”
– Practical magic
These past few months have brought on so many different changes. Thankfully, they’ve all been reminders to show me that I’ll never have to face anything in this life alone.
Another era has ended.
Another sister is married.
Another move from one side of town to the other.
Another job put behind me.
Another relationship placed in the past.
Endings are typically painful, but through them we are better able to uncover our truest selves, while embracing new challenges adventures, and growth.
Life is too precious to be taken for granted or wasted away. We must strive to make the most of our time together and remember to always love one another in spite of our differences and pain.
“They say two wrongs don’t make it right..
And I was wrong and now it ain’t right“
Ex husband #3 to Marilyn Monroe;
American playwright, Arthur Miller, was once quoted saying..
“She was a whirling light to me then, all paradox and enticing mystery, street-tough one moment, then lifted by a lyrical and poetic sensitivity that few retain past early adolescence… She was at this point incapable of condemning or even of judging people who had damaged her, and to be with her was to be accepted, like moving out into a kind of sanctifying light from a life where suspicion was common sense. She had no common sense, but what she did have was something holier, a long-reaching vision of which she herself was only fitfully aware: humans were all need, all wound. What she wanted most was not to judge but to win recognition from a sentimentally cruel profession, and from men blinded to her humanity by her perfect beauty.” #arthurmiller #quotes
#Repost @artisticalex ・・・
Marilyn Monroe- “Do I feel happy in life?”..
If I’m generally anything..I guess, I’m generally miserable…” #ditto #marilynmonroe #vintagebeauty #icon #1960s #stillrelatable #stillrelevant #60s #normajeanebaker
There is a sadness to the summer; a loneliness that lingers in all it’s expectations. Waking up to the sound of cicadas in the early morning and then the subtle sound of crickets ringing in the night’s approach; the soundtrack to this season eats at me so bittersweetly.
There are all these little pieces that equal a much larger whole that are missing; they’ve always been missing.
And I have all these intangible things that I can’t let go of; I can never let go. There are these invisible chains anchoring me to a life that I cannot return to. There are ghosts haunting me, creeping into my sheets, teasing me, reminding me of their death. I have fantasies of a fairytale; some happy ending with someone who doesn’t even know what happiness means.
And all these things are killing me; the aching of yearning for something so close yet so far. But I choose these fatalities- consciously I choose them- because I am a creature of catastrophe. Not an evil kind, but more of a masochistic; I dwell in the depths of all that is lost. I find solace in that emptiness of the missing; I find comfort in the abyss of yesterday’s promises.
“If I could do it all again…”