"I color papers with the words I can't say because
my mind is buzzing and there is no one to listen."
Hello you ! Je te souhaite la bienvenue dans ma petite boîte à trésors ! Je m'appelle Angela, j'ai 22 ans et j'aime les mots. Depuis longtemps, je m'amuse à les récolter et à les garder précieusement et puis un jour j'ai décidé de leur donner vie et de les partager avec d'autres, aujourd'hui avec toi. La vie n'est pas toujours très clémente, peu importe notre âge ou d'où l'on vient. Je sais qu'elle ne l'a pas toujours été avec moi, voilà pourquoi j'ai créé ce petit refuge. Parce que je crois sincèrement que les mots peuvent apaiser certaines douleurs, à défaut de les guérir. Je met du c½ur dans mes articles parce que chaque texte, chaque citation raisonne en moi. Tu tomberas parfois sur des textes que j'aurais moi-même écrit, sache que la plupart d'entre eux sont nés dans des moments vraiment douloureux pour moi. Pourquoi je te dis tout ça ? Et bien, parce que maintenant que tu es ici, ce blog, tu as le pouvoir de le faire vivre autant que moi. Tu peux le garder pour toi, y venir quand tu le souhaites, mais tu peux aussi le faire partager à d'autres. Je tiens beaucoup à ce blog et j'espère que tu l'aimeras autant que moi !
Pour ceux et celles qui ne sont pas doués en Anglais, pas de panique !
[ Chaque article a son doubletraduiten Français dans le Blog Secret! ]
Celui-ci est ouvert à tous à partir du moment où vous me suivez et que je vous suis en retour, il vous suffit de cliquer sur les trois petits c½urs ( ♥~♥~♥ ) présents sur chaque articles et ils vous mèneront à la traduction. Sachez que je traduis moi-même toutes les citations du blog, cela me prend du temps alors faîte au moins l'effort de laisser un petit signe de votre passage lorsque vous visitez mon petit monde, ça me fera vraiment plaisir ! Je suis présente sur Twitter et Tumblr pour ceux/celles que ça intéresse. Si vous voulez discuter, n'hésitez pas, je n'ai jamais mordu personne !
6. Remove negativity from all of your social media - or delete social media in general - it truly is a root of evil if you become sucked into it enough. Everything that you find making you feel weird inside when you see it, remove it. Unfollow it, block it, delete it. Fill your space with things and pictures and quotes that make you feel charged and hopeful. 7. Become involved with something that involves helping others. It's proven that extending kindness and helping others HELPS yourself as well. It's a ripple effect of love. 8. Have a tiny journal that you keep with you where you can jot down words throughout the day. I have a hard time expressing my feelings sometimes and I know many others find this difficult too. If you can jot down words, whether good feelings or bad feelings, you are still releasing that energy onto paper. Then you can go back later and evaluate, come up with a solution, or be grateful that the feeling has passed. 9. Find time for gratitude. In your little notebook, take time to jot down things you are grateful for. It could be anything. Something as simple as our breath, or a family member. Food. Sun. Tea. Heat. Smiles. You can find gratefulness in anything. Open your heart up. 10. I could really go on forever about ways to better your mental health because I have been learning and battling mental illness all of my twenty-five years of living - the most important one I can think of to help you is to learn that you are a human too, who is equally deserving of love and kindness, just as anyone else is. Even if it doesn't feel like you are... you are. Keep reminding yourself.”
“Maybe our love won't be like the movies. Maybe there won't be a grand ending, an airport run, a long embrace where the I love you's come pouring out as fast as the laughs and tears. Maybe it'll be as simple as breakfast on a weekday. You'll be drinking coffee, I'll be eating cereal;
“Why can't you love me? Is because I am bleeding too much and you don't like stains. Or is it because my mind runs away while you stand still. Is it because my sadness is too heavy to carry? Or because my thoughts resonate in a place in your mind you didn't know existed. Do you fear me like the night time or do I save you like the sun light. Why can't you love me? Do I smile too wide? Or cry too often. Something about me is always “too”. Too much talking. Too little understanding. Too much touching. Too little distance. I can't move because my head is being weighed down with memories of your hands and smile. And the hope that you placed into my heart is now tearing it apart.”
“My dear, some people - yes, even if they bear the name family - will do nothing but try to ruin you, and you deserve to take back with fire and blood what's rightfully yours. Or else they will keep destroying the garden of your heart that you painstakingly grew, eating your own rage should not be yet another one of your daily chores. Let no one tell you that girls can only be kind and courage is not angry nor shrewd that girls can only be silently gentle and have no right to stand up for themselves and roar.”
“I crave love, the purest, deepest and rawest form of it. The movie love, the book love, the Romeo-Juliet love. Just someone's careless kisses on my neck and my yearning lips. Someone to hold hands with and run into the sunset with. Someone I can write about endlessly, never getting tired of writing about how they are my sole galaxy in this dark universe, my one nice thing. About how every word that falls off their lips can put poetry to shame, or how his eyes have all my favorite colors in one place, right where I can see them. How his hands are rough and strong, and how mine are soft and fragile. How he would kiss my fingers every time I would remind him why I love him. How he and I would make each other mix tapes and pretend we're in the 90's.
I wonder if he would write about me too, that's the dream, two writers in love. Exchanging letters and small notes, proclaiming our love in ways that haven't been written about yet, with two different point of views for the same story. I want to dance with him, even though I don't know how to and I am sure he's a brilliant dancer. And I want him to sing with me, even though he is a terrible singer. I want to kiss him, which is nice cause we're both great kissers. I want to hear his far fetched theories about alternate universes and how he reckons we stumbled across each other, fate or sheer coincidence?
I want to fall in love with the whole person, and not just the idea of them I have constructed in my head. I want to love them for being shitty, for being sad, for being weird, for crying, for being pathetic. For being one hundred percent themselves, and being okay with letting me see every side they deemed unlovable. I want to kiss him lazily like we have all the time in the world and also urgently, like there's no tomorrow. I want to cuddle with him, trying to burrow myself deeper into his scent and him. That's what I think heaven will smell like, leather, cinnamon and him. I think heaven will sound like his voice, every goddamn thing he says sounds like honey and chocolate milkshakes.
Where are you? When are you planning to show up?
I am exhausted even though I am only seventeen, But I'll wait till I am seventy if I have to.”
“Girls, we are wolves. We hide our fangs behind innocent smiles and red lipstick. Girls, we are dragons. Our voices carry the heat of our injustices and pain. Girls, we are fighters. Bullets and knives can pierce our skin but not our souls. Girls, we are human beings. We crack, we fall, and we bleed. But we always, always stand back up.”