In an old house in Paris.
that was covered with
vines, lived twelve little girls, in two straight
lines.
1) Run away to Brooklyn.
Rent an apartment with a claw footed bathtub. Commute to
Manhattan during the week and put in hours at a menial publishing
job. Drive home to New Jersey on weekends to swim in the pool and
cry to your mother. Smoke Gauloises on the fire escape. Let
yellowing issues of Rolling Stone and Vogue pile into a
protective fortress around your bed. Listen to Cat Power. Fall
asleep mostly naked beneath the duvet watching SportsCenter and
drinking earl grey. Date a Yankees fan and kiss his hands on the
4 Train into the Bronx.
2) Run away to Barcelona. Eat milk chocolate magnum bars and drink cheap champagne. Burst into charming fits of laughter whenever you get embarrassed about butchering the Catalan language. Wear denim cutoffs, Dr. Pepper chapstick, and very little else. Go dancing at 3 a.m. Whiten your teeth. Tan your shoulders. Braid feathers into your hair. Perpetually wake up with sand caught in the thin cotton sheets of your tiny bed. Listen to the Rolling Stones and kiss all the longhaired boys you can get your hands on without ever having to apologize.
3) Run away to Los Angeles. Sublet a studio in Venice three blocks from the beach. Listen to top 40 radio. Go to Chateau Marmont and charge drinks you can't afford to a long-dormant credit card. Sleep with the television actor who lives in the valley. Sleep with a musician who lives in Bel Air. Break things off with both of them when gas prices begin to rise. Find Gilda Radner's star on the Walk Of Fame and swallow a sob when you see the filthy cement around her name is cracked. Walk through the Venice Canals until the sun sets and you forget your own name. Call your mother crying from the parking lot of a 24-hour Ralph's supermarket. Tell her you want to come home.
4) Run away to Paris. Gaze at the pink and pistachio glow of macarons in the window on Boulevard Saint-Germain. Listen to Joni Mitchell. Meet and Argentinean man in the Latin Quarter for drinks. Melt into his accent and kiss him goodnight, but return to your apartment alone because his face doesn't look enough like the man you are trying to forget. Get lost in the Richelieu Wing of the Louvre, admiring Napoleon's fine red damask. Walk alone along the Seine in an old dress, ten-dollar shoes, and an Hermes scarf. Fumble with the locks on the fence overlooking the river. They all have lovers' names etched into them and the girl who left the red heart-shaped lock has the same name as you.
5) Run away to Martha's Vineyard. Write heartbroken stories during the day in front of a large fan that blows curls of humid hair across your tired face. Take a waitress job at The Black Dog at night and try hard not to drop too many trays. Learn to ride a moped. Pretend you're a Kennedy. Listen to Carly Simon. Eat hand-churned ice cream out of waffle cones. Visit the flying horses and consider how many girls just like you have sat on the same horse clutching for the same brass ring. Get stoned and dance barefoot down the length of the eroded Jaws beach. Date a Red Sox fan. Yell at each other during baseball games, and then kiss and make up between tangled sheets.
2) Run away to Barcelona. Eat milk chocolate magnum bars and drink cheap champagne. Burst into charming fits of laughter whenever you get embarrassed about butchering the Catalan language. Wear denim cutoffs, Dr. Pepper chapstick, and very little else. Go dancing at 3 a.m. Whiten your teeth. Tan your shoulders. Braid feathers into your hair. Perpetually wake up with sand caught in the thin cotton sheets of your tiny bed. Listen to the Rolling Stones and kiss all the longhaired boys you can get your hands on without ever having to apologize.
3) Run away to Los Angeles. Sublet a studio in Venice three blocks from the beach. Listen to top 40 radio. Go to Chateau Marmont and charge drinks you can't afford to a long-dormant credit card. Sleep with the television actor who lives in the valley. Sleep with a musician who lives in Bel Air. Break things off with both of them when gas prices begin to rise. Find Gilda Radner's star on the Walk Of Fame and swallow a sob when you see the filthy cement around her name is cracked. Walk through the Venice Canals until the sun sets and you forget your own name. Call your mother crying from the parking lot of a 24-hour Ralph's supermarket. Tell her you want to come home.
4) Run away to Paris. Gaze at the pink and pistachio glow of macarons in the window on Boulevard Saint-Germain. Listen to Joni Mitchell. Meet and Argentinean man in the Latin Quarter for drinks. Melt into his accent and kiss him goodnight, but return to your apartment alone because his face doesn't look enough like the man you are trying to forget. Get lost in the Richelieu Wing of the Louvre, admiring Napoleon's fine red damask. Walk alone along the Seine in an old dress, ten-dollar shoes, and an Hermes scarf. Fumble with the locks on the fence overlooking the river. They all have lovers' names etched into them and the girl who left the red heart-shaped lock has the same name as you.
5) Run away to Martha's Vineyard. Write heartbroken stories during the day in front of a large fan that blows curls of humid hair across your tired face. Take a waitress job at The Black Dog at night and try hard not to drop too many trays. Learn to ride a moped. Pretend you're a Kennedy. Listen to Carly Simon. Eat hand-churned ice cream out of waffle cones. Visit the flying horses and consider how many girls just like you have sat on the same horse clutching for the same brass ring. Get stoned and dance barefoot down the length of the eroded Jaws beach. Date a Red Sox fan. Yell at each other during baseball games, and then kiss and make up between tangled sheets.
--5 Fantasy Exit Strategies
Courtney Preiss
Courtney Preiss
I've
been to New York, Rio de Janeiro, Sydney, Rome, Japan, Miami,
Paris, and now Beijing?!
THANK YOU SUBWAY SURFERS!
THANK YOU SUBWAY SURFERS!
ME AND MY SISTER HAVE BEEN SAVING FOR ABOUT 6 YEARS SINCE WE WERE
10, IT WAS A DREAM AT FIRST BUT WE FINALLY SAVED ENOUGH MONEY FOR
THE TWO OF US TO GO TO PARIS! YAY IM SO FREAKING EXCITED!
✈ ✈ ✈
One day we can travel the world
I don't think feelings change, not people, I think
situations do. I know that it's possible to dislike
someone after loving them so much or to love someone after
feeling so much hate towards them but, it's not because
people change. It's because it's not the same.
It's because something made you think differently.
Something
opened your eyes. Something caused you to see everything the way it was last. It's like days. Days
can be cloudy, or days can be sunny. Days don't change. The weather does. And nothing can play
a part in that or fix it, they can just let it be.
opened your eyes. Something caused you to see everything the way it was last. It's like days. Days
can be cloudy, or days can be sunny. Days don't change. The weather does. And nothing can play
a part in that or fix it, they can just let it be.
format by youngblood
He tries not to smile, noticing that she's intimidated by him.
He wasn't sure what was so striking about it, just maybe the thought of it.
She smiles timidly at him when she sits on the couch over his own.
She expresses her manners through a timid tongue.
Red is the color of her cheeks when he tries to speak to her, make her unafraid.
Red is the color of his blood when he unintentionally tears his bottom lip open.
In his car, she sits in the back, quietly humming along to the repetitive melodies.
In his seat, he thinks of how things will be when she's a little older for him.
They laugh and joke a little, but never a true conversation.
They silently say the things that aren't ready to be said.
Intimidation may be one's key to their locked-up heart.♥
Tangled in
Two
Chapter
Two
Hunter picked me up from my house the
next morning.
He was usually my ride to and from school.
"What's wrong babe?" Hunter looked at me and held my hand tight while the other gripped the wheel. "Nothing." I forced a smile through my teeth.
He sighed. Hunter knows me.
He knew something was wrong, but he also knew if I didn't want to talk about it, I wasn't going to.
Once we got into school, I told him I'd see him later before nearly bolting off.
"Hope!" He called out down the empty hallway as he chased after me.
"Yes?" I turned around with watery eyes.
"Wh-what's wrong Hope?" He pulled me into a tight hug and rubbed my hair.
"I'll see you later." I whispered pulling away.
"No kiss?" He said looking at me.
I leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
I could see the hurt in his eyes.
I could see how much Hunter cared, and wanted to know what was going through my mind.
I just couldn't tell him in school, and I couldn't tell him through text last night.
I guess I'll just have to tell him after school today.
It is Thursday, and I am leaving Saturday morning.
This is going to be the hardest.
I guess I haven't told him, because I'm scared of goodbyes.
I've never had to say goodbye, but I understand how powerful they must be.
My father left my mother.
Not because he had a choice to, but because God had bigger plans for him, but it was a goodbye.
The only goodbye I've ever had to learn from.
My mother didn't do well after that goodbye..
I can't do this.
I can't say goodbye.
He was usually my ride to and from school.
"What's wrong babe?" Hunter looked at me and held my hand tight while the other gripped the wheel. "Nothing." I forced a smile through my teeth.
He sighed. Hunter knows me.
He knew something was wrong, but he also knew if I didn't want to talk about it, I wasn't going to.
Once we got into school, I told him I'd see him later before nearly bolting off.
"Hope!" He called out down the empty hallway as he chased after me.
"Yes?" I turned around with watery eyes.
"Wh-what's wrong Hope?" He pulled me into a tight hug and rubbed my hair.
"I'll see you later." I whispered pulling away.
"No kiss?" He said looking at me.
I leaned up and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
I could see the hurt in his eyes.
I could see how much Hunter cared, and wanted to know what was going through my mind.
I just couldn't tell him in school, and I couldn't tell him through text last night.
I guess I'll just have to tell him after school today.
It is Thursday, and I am leaving Saturday morning.
This is going to be the hardest.
I guess I haven't told him, because I'm scared of goodbyes.
I've never had to say goodbye, but I understand how powerful they must be.
My father left my mother.
Not because he had a choice to, but because God had bigger plans for him, but it was a goodbye.
The only goodbye I've ever had to learn from.
My mother didn't do well after that goodbye..
I can't do this.
I can't say goodbye.
