Top 5 Hipster Tattoos

Want to be a hipster? Like tattoos? Then here's your guide to be hip by your tattoos & if you have all five, then you're the shit.

1. Birds/Feathers





Birds have feathers, so naturally that's hip.

2. Heart





Like having one already isn't enough.

3. "This too shall pass"/I carry your heart"/"Let it be"













I don't even know. Everyone and there mom has these tattoos. So just jump on the bandwagon, hipster.

4. Bows





Gotta tie your life, skin, or sorrows together.

5. Chest piece







Nothing's hotter then a chest piece & if you have the previous 4 in it, God you are THE SHIT! High five to you! You're more of hipster than me. Congrats.

Tick Tock

"Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future."
John F. Kennedy




"Time passes. Even when it seems impossible. Even when each tick of the
second hand aches like the pulse of blood behind a bruise. It passes unevenly, in strange lurches and dragging lulls, but pass it does. Even for me."

Anyone that knows me, knows that I hate my grandfather. I resent how some of his past actions have affected my family. My issues with him aside, I've never met a person on this earth who doesn't deserve a second chance more than him. Then why, do I ask myself, am I feeling slightly sadden by his current state? He's dying. Lung cancer that's metastasized. He's supposed to be dead by July. His figure resembles nothing like what it used to be. He's withered away. The demon of a man he used to be is hard to find these days, but it still reels it's head every now and then. I find it extremely hard to accept that just because he's dying that I should forgive him. I don't want to. Forgiving him isn't going to change anything. It won't change the two christmases I had to go through as a kid. It won't change the way my dad's programed. It won't change my childhood. It's just not gonna change anything. He wants me to have all his dishes, pots and pans for when I get an apartment of my own. If he was anything like an actual grandfather then he'd know that I have all that stuff and that I've been living in an apartment for the last two years at school. There's a secret part of me that feels sad about all of this. Mostly however I turn a cold shoulder to the whole situation. Does this make me a bad person?

Run away. Far. Far away.

I've been in a pondering mood today. For whatever reasons these lyrics have been tossing around my head.

"God only knows how much I'd love you if you let me
but I can't break free at all."

"I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My finger in creases of distant dark places."

"What am I gonna do when the best part of me was always you...
And what am I suppose to say when I'm all choked up and you're okay..."


Lots and lots of mixed emotions today. I feel hopefully for the summer, but there a little doubts picking at the back of mind. Lately my life's felt like the whisper of a memory.

Things I've done to get to NYC: started a dance troupe & developed several ideas for pieces.

Where do I go?

Well, a lot has changed since Monday. One week. One bloody week and my life is upside down. This weekend I watched a large chunk of my friends walk out of my life. Graduated. They graduated. I know that we'll still be friends, it's just hard to process that they won't be down the hall or a quick trip downstairs. And in the last week I've also grown accustomed to having someone holding my hand and kissing me. Most of all I've grown accustomed to him sleeping in my bed. Last night was strange not feeling the touch of his skin against mine or the heat of his body again me. There's one word for what I'm feeling. Missing. I miss him. Even though it's been two very short weeks I feel close to him. Which is extremely forgien to me. I've never really let anyone in and sometimes in the back of my mind I wonder if I'm just going to get hurt in the end. Someone I know told me I should try and live in the moment, so here I am attempting to living in it. It's hard at times. I feel like my mind is trying to protect myself and that's why I still haven't fully processed all that's happened. As I struggle to find the words to write how I feel, I can feel my chest tensing and my breath hiccuping. I want to cry. I really do, but I can't. I almost did this morning when mother asked me what I was going to do about internships. How hard is it to fucking process that because I don't have a car it's hard for me to find a job, more or less a fucking internship? Or how about the fact that I feel fucking alienated at home because I have no car. I feel fucking trapped and fucking alone. You wonder why I'm always tired here, it's cause I'm fucking depressed. All I want to do is sleep while I'm home, yay for fucking me. I was happy at school and I resent that my home makes me feel uncomfortable. I'm going to go out of my mind until I see my friends again. 6 days. 6 fucking days to survive, until I get to see some of them. God all I want is a fucking car and a life. Goodnight cruel, cruel world.

Things I've done to get to NYC: Learn how to say goodbye

Letter to Lost One

Dear Lost,
I'm writing this to explain exactly what happened. I don't know if you'll ever read this nor do I care. I had a wonderful week with you that I wouldn't trade for the world. I enjoyed our late night conversations and I really let myself be vulnerable with you. I told you things I shouldn't have so soon, just because I was comfortable with you. You don't know it, but you changed a lot of my perceptions about things. Before you I just wanted a fuck buddy, I thought all I needed was sex. Then you came into the picture and you made me realize that what I wanted was a relationship. You know how shitty my last guy had been to me and yet you weren't perfect either. Don't lay with me in bed and tell me who much you care about me and how much you like me and say shit like "I'd ask you to be my girlfriend, but with graduation..." Fuck you. You told someone that you didn't want to smother me. Is that why we couldn't walk down the streets of Franklin holding hands? Is that why you didn't kiss me goodbye in the Campus Center, but the morning before you refused to leave my condo without one...You'd probably say that it was only supposed to be a thing, but when you start telling a girl how you feel about her, no matter how hard she tries to be, eventually that shit will sink in. So thanks for telling me "I'm beautiful" in private and not acknowledging it in public. Thanks for trying to make me feel like shit when I was breaking up with you. Thanks for calling me selfish for ending things with now with you instead of watching you walk out of my life at graduation. Thanks for making it seem that things might have worked after graduation, when you know they fucking wouldn't have. If you had really wanted things to work you wouldn't have ignored me in public or keep bringing up graduation. I'll tell you right now the three reasons why things wouldn't have worked:

1. I'm a party girl. I want to go to clubs & bars.
2. You still don't know me, you hardly asked me anything.
3. I'm still in college, I wouldn't have made you wait for me.

And you want to know the saddest part of this, that as much as I care about you I haven't cried. That night after we talked...I curled up onto B's couch, waiting for her to come home and only two tears fell. Two. And then I was over it, over it all. Granted there have been times in the past couple days that somethings made me think of you or like last night when I slept in my bed for the first time since Thursday night, I smelled you and it made me sad. So I can't say that I don't miss you and that I still don't care about you. I do. Thinking about the last week makes me happy, sad, and so angry. In your own way you treated me shitty. You should have known that I'd get attached and that bringing up the whole graduation thing and how this was nothing too serious, was shitty. And I'm not writing this to get you back, I'm writing this for me. I'm selfish. I want to write these things to move on and to stop caring about how you're doing. I'm not the bad one, but if it makes you feel better, I'll be the fucking bitch that hurt you, but I'm not "another girl who rejected you". I got out before either of us got too hurt. Trust me, things would have been a lot worse the longer this went on.

Love,
Sarah

p.s. Hope you're doing fine. I'm sorry.

Things I've done to get to NYC: Broke another part of my heart.