<3

emily hereeeeeeee. i am chilling at may's house and she is working on a dress for school so i decided to make her a picture haha! took me like 2 minutes on photoshop but its all good :)
may is very cool, she's sweet and she's funny and she's beautiful! you should be jealous that you don't have her as a friend, and well you can't anyway because she is my friend!

loveeeeee x

dont's

As any ordinary person, we walk down the street from time to time. Well relatively often - possibly every day. At least in Amsterdam. Sometimes, I tend to wonder "did you not look in the mirror before you left?" or "does it not occur to you that it's -7 degrees outside?"
But maybe that is my outlook on certain things, I couldn't say.
Anywho, you know the boys/men who think that ugg's look good on them, or I'm sorry to say, redwings. Well, no. I think it looks ridiculous, I mean both are relatively awful looking when girls wear them (I have to admit that I am one who favours uggs), but really, who decided that boys should follow that trend too. Especially jeans tucked into boots - it's a no go boys.
Another thing are those tacky girls with their fake-fur coats, roaming the streets with their bleached blonde hair and nails painted perfectly with leopard print - I mean, really?
They walk the streets in packs, clones of each other. What happened to originality and expressing personality through clothing, colours and textures. That's what I miss when I went to school in Hilversum - the individuality was completely swallowed up by a black-hole. Which resulted in an on-going line of long-haired, skinny-jean-and-ugg-wearing girls. How boring? Yes, i agree completely.
But once moved into Amsterdam, there is life, there is freedom, and their is personality. Everywhere. All kinds of people, from all corners of the world. That's heavenly.

the tendency to love

apparently, love defines who we are. what we do. how we behave, and so on..

but can we believe this to be true, this assumption, the crazy conclusion that someone pulled?

i don't know.

i loved someone once. a boy.

when i was 14, my first love, my first kiss, my first real boyfriend.

what an amazing experience, an abundance of feelings. a rush of excitement whenever you see, hear, smell, feel him. this feeling, a feeling that cannot be replaced in any shape or a form. a memory that cannot be erased, even in the greatest attempts to. a shame? no.

an experience that should be cherished and told to ones grandchildren.

i think about him often, but more often than not do i think about my second love.

this tall, dark-haired, light-eyed God of a boy. whether the feeling is still mutual, is the question, whether i still feel the same, is another question.

but the beauty of it all, are the gained experiences.