You know you want to...

What is your favorite thing about your appearance?

Think about it, long and hard. Something popped into your head, but you want to suppress it because you don't want to sound conceited. You all know you find something attractive about yourself, yet you would never say it aloud for fear of bitchy girls calling you names.

So, what you're saying is that it's okay for you to post gorgeous pictures of yourself, with you damn well knowing you look gorgeous, yet you are allowed to degrade yourself? You can say "Eh, bad hair day, but I needed a new picture" ?! You know you do it, don't lie.

Everyone needs a little self-assurance. I mean, I'm not saying I walk around jamming that Keri Hilson song, screaming "don't hate me 'cause I'm beautiful!" Because I don't think I am. But, you can't walk around believing you are ugly, because you are not.

So, think about it. What's your favorite thing about your appearance?

Mine might be my eyes, but only when I smile. I think everyone looks prettier when they smile a true smile, because it means that there's nothing they want more than to be happy.

I love taking pictures of people not looking, completely unaware of me taking a picture. It shows their true selves more than anything else I believe. I think everyone needs to see a picture of themselves unaware, because then you realize how you are portrayed to society.

I hope one day you all get that picture. And in it, I hope you're smiling your truest smile.

Beauty Isn't Skin Deep.

Since when is beauty pursing your lips while rocking a Snooki poof and some gaudy jewelry?

Since when is beauty drinking a Four Loko and throwing up a Peace sign in your Facebook default?

Since when is beauty little 13 year old girls wishing and acting like they're 17?

Why has beauty become such an ugly image? I don't know, but to me making you BBM status "Don't hate me because I'm beautiful (;" when you're merely 13 years old shows just a tad bit of promiscuity for their future. 

I am 15. I have class. I have morals. I'm that teenager that HATES, LOATHES, DESPISES, other teenagers because of the image we are given. I am what you would probably call a nerd. I am proud.

As a sophomore in high school, most kids are out having sex, doing drugs, and drinking, especially on nights such as Mischief Night.

Wanna know what I did? I had a giant game of Red Rover in my friends backyard until 11pm. No drinking, no drugs, no sex. Just simple hand-holding. These days, these little things are lost in the materialistic manners of society, and it sincerely is such a shame. 

I walked down the street and bumped into an elderly woman, and therefore turned around and apologized. The woman RAN. I tell you, RAN the other direction, because by-proxy, I was an unruly teenager who surely wanted her purse.

I walk around town in my softball workout clothes as prima-donnas strut past wafting their Pepe La Pue fragrances and shifting overly done-up eyes at my clothing. 

But, wanna know something? My smile, braces and all, my character, mud-sweat dripping down my face, reflects my beauty far more than booty shorts and a pushup bra.

Girls, we are more than our clothing. We are more than boys thoughts. We are tomorrow. We are someone to be proud of. We are mothers, teachers, presidents, voices. So, stop now before you've gone too far. Look in the mirror, and wipe off your mask. You have potential my darlings, to be SOMEONE of importance.

When you're giving me my food through the Drive-Thru, who can see your beauty t h e n ? 

Be someone you're proud of.

X- Hopelessly Hopeful

Soakin' in the Surroundings.

I'm sitting here, looking around my living room. What do I see? My mom watching "All In The Family", the Christmas tree unlit, boxes of presents unsent. I sit here feeling 30 years old with the weight of the world on my shoulders, yet I look at my reflection and see a 15 year old girl.
I sit here pondering what I've just seen in my home. My broken, tattered home. I sit here smothering tears as my mother shakes with sobs in the next room, clinging to my father for dear life; Her life.

Sounds normal, huh? So fucking normal.

Welcome to my life, the one which is currently being destroyed by the Tasmanian Devil: AKA my 19 year old sister.
I swear to you, sometimes it feels like I live in an Eminem song.

As I sit here in my favorite seat on the couch, I'm sitting in the eye of the storm. I don't know how long the calm will last this time. Days, weeks, months. Who knows anymore? I sure as Hell don't.

Let me back up the party train right here. Here's some background, because I know you're all just dying to know about this eventful life of mine. (Please note the sarcasm.) I will take you through the fast forwarded version. Big Sis hooked up with Douchebag # 1 at the beginning of Freshmen year at college. Big Sis dumped D-bag #1, after finding D-bag #2, who is a true winner. (I'm all about the sarcasm here, people.)
I tell you, that little children's song, "First is the worst, second is the best, third is the one with the treasure chest" really hit the nail on the head. She couldn't have hit a better lotto. Well anyways, Mama and Papa Bear hate him, as well as Baby Bear (muah).  Big Sis keeps going out with him, leading Mama and Papa Bear to hold on to their wit's end by a string because Big Sis can't get it through her thick skull that, Hey! This boy is a jerk! I should break up with him!
But hey, who's Baby Bear to judge?

Well, anywho, we're not a white picket fence family. It's more like, fiery Irish family screaming at the TV and elected officials, instead of baking brownies for the PTA.  Well, we do that too, actually. We're a very diverse people.
No, we're not white trash, or any kind of trash. We're working people, no better than you, or that guy behind you. And we're a strong people, no doubt. But that's besides the point. Normality in our home consists of softball doubleheaders on Sunday mornings, Jazz Band rehearsals, and opinionated discussions. Normal for us isn't playing with the dog as Mom cleans and Dad comes home from work.

But now, normal is my parents hugging while crying after my mom told me that they'll be getting a divorce. My sister walks around indignantly as usual, fixing whatever stick is up her ass today. And I, sit here absorbing this information and hoping that one day, I'll remember what normal used to be for my family.
 Well see you seen blog fam. Adieu until next time! :D


X: Hopelessly Hopeful