And even this...

I'm single. I want to help Kristen Stewart. I go by Sydney Jaded. You may call me either.
Or just SJ.
Broken brain. Fractured heart. Killer smile. Wicked sense of humor.

In the face of the beautiful-awful-tragic-absurd-mundane-heartbreaking-impossible-wonderful,
all I can think to say is:
and even this...

“I record my life, sifting and trying to separate what is real from what I’ve dreamed. I have decided not to tell you what is fact versus what is unfact primarily because (a) I am giving you a portrait of the essence of me, and (b) because, living where I do, living in the chasm that cuts through thought, it is lonely… come with me, reader. I am toying with you, yes, but for a real reason. I am asking you to enter the confusion with me, to give up the ground with me, because sometimes that frightening floaty place is really the truest of all. Kierkegaard says, 'The greatest lie of all is the feeling of firmness beneath our feet. We are most honest when we are lost.' Enter that lostness with me. Live in the place I am, where the view is murky, where the connecting bridges and orienting maps have been surgically stripped away.”
— Lauren Slater

“I want to be remembered as the girl who always smiles even when her heart is broken, and the one that could always brighten up your day even if she couldn’t brighten her own.”

AIM: andeventhis
Email: andeventhis[at]aim[dot]com

Install this theme

dealbreaker:

justinbecker:

DUELBREAKER: You Left Your Rapier In The Carriage House

Sir, you have gone too far! I had hereto considered your failure to compliment m’lady’s new bustle as the veritable height of impudence, but you have climbed quite past it now! Lo, what dizzying heights of impropriety we now find ourselves at the precipice of! I am made to be lightheaded by the vista!

When I challenged you to a duel, I expected you to bring three things- a duly appointed second to carry on in the eventuality of your death, an array of sweetly-scented poultices with which to anoint your corpse, and above all else, a well-honed rapier! Now I am struck nigh unto speechless by your temerity. In what world could one poultice be considered an array? And where are your second’s dueling britches? Dear Lord- are… are those grousing togs? GROUSING TOGS!

But such follies pale when held against your own conspicuous deficiency. How do you propose I duel you without a weapon? Fisticuffs? Am I to batter you about the face and neck, getting your blood and teeth all over my new silken cravat? I think not. Are we to just stand here bandying words until one of us succumbs to syphilis? That could take a fortnight! I am sorely tempted to slay you where you stand, but that would just be murder and by writ I would owe your son a favored cloven animal.

I demand satisfaction! M’lady has a new bustle!

Points off for confusing a Duelbreaker for a Dealbreaker, but bonus points for everything else!