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"Felicity. You are remarkable."
"Thank you for remarking on it."
(Oliver and Felicity, Arrow)


*Catching up on episodes of Arrow. I am not big on shipping. I usually just like following the story but these two get to me. There's just something about how he only smiles when he's around her. Awwwww.

skipping ahead*

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I want to think 
that
we are merely
not on the same
page.
But today
just made it clear
that we are not 
even in
the same
book.


*another excerpt from another book I'm not really writing, which I want to call breaking the bibliophile's heart
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“So long as you write what you wish to write, that is all that matters; and whether it matters for ages or only for hours, nobody can say.”
― Virginia Woolf, A Room of One’s Own
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“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,' he said.” 
― Rainbow Rowell, Fangirl

Unfortunately, I do.

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“She was waiting but 
she didn't know for what. 
She was aware only of her solitude, and of the 
penetrating cold, 
and of a greater weight in 
the region of 
her heart." 

(Albert Camus)

eating one's feelings

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I think I'm a medium-type of loner. By this, I mean that while there are certain things I cannot imagine doing alone (off the top of my head, weddings, bars on Mondays and Fridays, concerts, and book stores when I am on a budget), I am certainly strong enough for movies and the usual event/play/thing.

So when D cancelled on me today, I thought, why not. I haven't hung out with me a lot lately. And, I'm super fun. (Hahhaha)

And now, I will tell you what Solo Saturdays mean: good food, a great book, and a willingness to be judged for eating alone.

Eating alone is a doozy, isn't it? I find that no matter how many times, I really still feel the sads when I go to eating places on my own.

I believe it's more my family's fault, really. I grew up in a home where one simply didn't alone. We waited for each other, we talked, we shared.

And when I went to college, try as I might, I couldn't shake the notion that I eating alone was bad juju.

Still, we all have to grow up. And the reality is, I only go home on weekends to where everyone is.

So now, I'm 'manning up', and eating my way through the stares, one chocolate-laced dish at a time.

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Sometimes, they come back.

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“How do you stop longing for what you absolutely know you can’t get? Which really means: How do you absolutely know you can’t—and won’t—get it, not ever? How do you pinch out that wisp of feeble, ruthless hope?”
(Leigh Newman, Still Points North)

 I do not know how to imbed videos so the weepy song is through here

I think I lost the ability to write. Hahahha. This post might be the break this blog needs, not that it gets read a lot. But still. One never knows. This post is so weird. And I feel so messy right now. Messy is a state, isn't it? Not a feeling. But I feel it all, and I hate it and I need to yell at you, but I can't so I will just content myself with this.