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“We’re fools whether we dance or not, so we might as well dance.”
[my art blog dedicated to everyday muses]
Posts tagged life
You’re still growing up, even into your 30’s.
Nobody tells you that. It’s like as soon as you hit the big 18 people no longer say you’re still growing up. They make it out as if as soon as you’re done with college a couple years later theres no more growing up to do. You’re at max capacity. But you know, we’re not, we are by far not even close to hitting the end of trying to grow up and we need to hear that now more than we ever did when we were kids.
I don’t know why we have this notion in our heads that as soon as you get out of college you need to get your shit together. As if this magical fairy is going to pop out and give us adulthood. When we don’t get it and we crawl back to our parents house and work part-time jobs that aren’t related to our college degree to pay off said college degree we feel like failures. Not only that, nobody is there to encourage you. You’re just looked at as this giant lame ass who isn’t doing nothing in your adult life when every day you’re busting your balls trying to make ends meet and still try to maintain being happy with your short comings. Your parents, friends, the world acts like theres nothing more you can do. You’re an adult, you don’t have the job that you want, you’re in debt, you’re living in your parents basement, you suck as an adult, have a nice life its not going to get better.
That’s not the case. You’re not an adult, you’re STILL growing up figuring out shit and thats okay. Most of us didn’t get that magical fairy either to grant us adulthood and we’re fucking up and growing up right along with you. I have no idea what the hell i’m doing and i’m pretty sure a lot of people reading this also have no idea what the hell they’re doing. We’re in this together. Some people can do the growing up right away, and some of us can’t. Some of us don’t know what we want. We’re allowed to change our minds and we’re allowed to be brand new as many times as we feel. Theres no cut off age to growing up. People just keep trying to scare us into adulthood and its gets stressful when you feel like you’re the only person not doing it right. But believe me, you’re not the only one and you can take your time figuring it out. Shit, I still haven’t figured it out.
We’re still growing my friend, and thats okay. We’re okay. You’re okay.
692 notes (via brain-food)
See, I wasn’t attached to the obsessive, methodical activities because I thought something bad would happen to me if I couldn’t do them—they just gave me something to do while I made up stories in my head.
Pretty much my childhood was also spent on little hobbies to keep my hands busy while my brain was zooming a million miles a minute. Wow. It feels so good to read I wasn’t the only one! Though I never was neat so my compulsions took the form of messy arts and crafts endeavours rather than organizing and sorting things.
I suppose you could say thats how I started loving art and is why I continue to make it today. I still have a million stories in my head I tell only to myself :)
Yeah, coz that’s what life does to you, even if you are a fictional perfect TV land female. Goddamit.
I don’t know: perhaps it’s a dream, all a dream. (That would surprise me.) I’ll wake, in the silence, and never sleep again. (It will be I?) Or dream (dream again), dream of a silence, a dream silence, full of murmurs (I don’t know, that’s all words), never wake (all words, there’s nothing else).
You must go on, that’s all I know.
They’re going to stop, I know that well: I can feel it. They’re going to abandon me. It will be the silence, for a moment (a good few moments). Or it will be mine? The lasting one, that didn’t last, that still lasts? It will be I?
You must go on.
I can’t go on.
You must go on.
I’ll go on. You must say words, as long as there are any - until they find me, until they say me. (Strange pain, strange sin!) You must go on. Perhaps it’s done already. Perhaps they have said me already. Perhaps they have carried me to the threshold of my story, before the door that opens on my story. (That would surprise me, if it opens.)
It will be I? It will be the silence, where I am? I don’t know, I’ll never know: in the silence you don’t know.
You must go on.
I can’t go on.
I’ll go on.
”
I love this shops quirky yet wonderfully sharp comics printed on greeting cards.
