Bingham Boys.

Young, wild, & free.




So when was the last time you looked at someone? The last time you actually looked at someone's face, looked into their eyes, and didn't let yours dart away the second they met? When was the last time you held someone's gaze just a little too long? When was the last time you smiled at a complete stranger? When was the last time you told someone you didn't know to have a great day, and truly meant it?

When was the last time you felt like someone you didn't know cared? When was the last time you felt like someone you didn't know, wanted to know you? When was the last time you truly, absolutely knew you were doing something right in your life? When was the last time you were okay with getting lost a little? When was the last time you texted him first? When was the last time you danced out of pure joy, because you finally got the girl, finally got the job, finally got the part, finally got the grade?

When was the last time you did something crazy? When was the last time you kissed someone? When was the last time you jumped in a pool, or a pond, or a lake? When was the last time you trespassed?

So maybe he doesn't like you. Maybe he told you the girl he likes is in love with someone else, and maybe you know that that girl isn't you. Maybe he told you you're a good friend. Maybe he didn't say anything to you at all. Is that something you can change in the next fifteen minutes? Give yourself fifteen minutes and do something with them. Make moments, people; life is about the little things, no matter what your math teacher tells you about the ACT. You aren't going to get everything in life and that's a fact. It might not be something you'll always want to hear but it will always be something you need to live with. And that certainly doesn't mean you can't take the next fifteen minutes and find a stranger, talk to him, smile at him, flirt with him. It doesn't mean you can't blast music in the car, scream sing along even though your throat is already gone, follow random people around just because you can. It doesn't mean you can't take every oppurtunity to laugh. Memories don't make themselves, you guys. You have to go out, be actively searching for these moments, you have to be willing to say yes. You have to be willing to let go of all the bad minutes and immerse yourself in the next fifteen. Don't let the boys keep getting you down. Don't let your hair keep getting you down. Whatever you do, don't let technological difficulties get you down (yes, this is a reference to the two huge pictures.) Because you only have so many moments. Whatever anyone tells you about minutes and hours and days, life is composed of moments, chronologically stacked up in our heads. Make moments, not salt water.

love always, laura elizabeth.

People, God, and other things to believe in.

Not all who wander are lost.

 

 

 

It's hardly a coincidence that all the things in my current life are suddenly coming together to make me believe that much more in the consciousness we loosely call God. I'm not in India, studying in an ashram (though I desperately want to be), but I am reading "Eat Pray Love" and I'm in India with her, which is sort of the same thing, and maybe living vicariously through her is enough to get me where I need to be with my spirituality. Because here's the thing, the road to healing oneself isn't some straight, smooth plane of easiness. Not that anything really broke me, except myself, probably. I'm good at that; I think we all are. I could tell you in a million and one ways the reasons why I am not enough, but I will refrain and simply tell you the one reason why I am: Because I am alive, and God lives in me.

 

I'm not religious to any extent; that much about me is painfully obvious. But that in no way means I'm not spiritual. I'm a dancer, aren't I? I've tapped into that energy more than some, even if I've been hesitant to call it divinity. But here's the thing. I finally stopped putting out the negative energy that has kept me cynical and within the hour, I received positive energy back. If that isn't God, then I honestly don't know what is. I might be skeptical about religion and Bible stories and creation and everything else I know almost nothing about, but when it comes to God, I know him as much as the next person.

 

Who am I to tell myself I am not enough? In one regard, who am I to keep telling myself that I will ultimately end up alone? Who am I to tell myself this means there's something wrong with me? I know it's been said that we accept the love we deserve, and I think it's about time I realize I deserve a lot more than what I've been accepting lately. Look at me. I've stooped to the point where I am attached to a boy who loves to call me because he thinks I'm hot. That isn't some high love, people. That's the love of physicality. Which, of course, is important, but it's the root of love, and certainly not all I deserve.

 

Before today, before this moment, I never truly understood that quote, the "we accept the love we think we deserve." I mean, I always thought that the fact I am a hopeless romantic meant I already think I deserve great love. But that's not it. In fact, being the hopeless romantic I am and have been has left me incredibly vulnerable to the love I've been accepting lately, because if we're being honest with ourselves, hopeless romantics will accept almost any love due to the fact that all they want is romance. But that doesn't mean I can't and haven't already changed. I'm still a hopeless romantic, but in the best way. So come at me, people, and do your worst; I'm riding high on the vibes of positive energy that was bound to make its way back to me eventually. And that is the meaning of God.

 

love always, laura elizabeth.

Tie Dye.

So, whatever, one of the best nights of my life, NBD.

Addy: "Just make out already!"

(x100000000000000)

 

 

And right now, I'm just glad there are a million pictures of everything in the world.

Maybe not of Taft and me, last night, dancing and living,

but of things like cats in top hats and shoes.

I'm glad there are a million songs waiting to be discovered,

especially if you discover them on a cd from a good friend.

I'm glad there are a million flowers to be smelled,

and trees to be climbed,

and stars to count,

and pinteresting things to make,

 

and I'm especially glad there are a million people I've met,

a million people I know,

and a million people waiting for me in the next million tomorrows.

 

go dancing.

love always, laura elizabeth.



The one that got away.

It was bound to happen, anyway,

it's for the best, anyway.

I guess if you catch one once, you can catch one again,

and I can learn how to skip rocks with or without him,

and as long as it's "for the best"....

I will, I will find a boy

who is respectful and thoughtful and kind and sweet and cares and is intelligent,

not that he isn't any of these things,

but some he needs work on

and really we're both just too messed up for each other anyway,

aren't we all

but it's for the best

and I'm sorry for this post but I just wanted to say,

I guess if you can catch one once, you can catch one again, right?

love always,

laura elizabeth



Attitudes, parties, and prom dresses.

A girl worth kissing is not easily kissed.

A girl worth hugging is not easily hugged.

A girl worth loving is not easily loved.

Boyce Avenue.

Mitchell, will you please love me like that?

love always, laura elizabeth.

Grunge.

What a word. 

You don't hear "grungy" much anymore and I bet you hear "grunge" even less. 

Guess who's bringing it back?

^^ I guess this Christmas we'll see who really loves me..

The funny thing about mornings is that I wake up, I just don't get up...usually until I have about five minutes left.

The funny thing about boys is that I don't understand them.  At all.  And yet, I still like them.

The funny thing about my teddy bear is that it's secretly a real person that hugs me to sleep every night.

The funny thing about math is I'm actually sometimes good at it.

The funny thing about pillows is that lately, I've been more comfortable without one.

The funny thing about Harry Potter is that he's consistently there for me.  Every time.

The funny thing about singing is that I can't.

The funny thing about my dance performance is that it's on Saturday.

The funny thing about me is that when I think, "We should just agree to disagree again" is that I really mean "She should just agree to agree.  With me."

The funny thing about owls is that I LOVE THEM.

The funny thing about taco bell is that I haven't had it in far too long.

The funny thing about homework is that I actually don't hate it, I just hate the time it consumes.  We only get the one life, you know.

The funny thing about Teddy is that I think I might be starting to like him...gug.

The funny thing about birthday parties is that I always feel obligated to bring a present.

The funny thing about weekends is that for the past many, I've almost always had great plans with great people...Like I'm some sort of socially awkward butterfly.

The funny thing about toenails is that once one finally grows back to a decent state, the other one begins to bruise.  And you get blisters on your toes that bleed all over your toe pads.

The funny thing about dance is that it's physically a sport but emotionally an art.

The funny thing about life is that it won't wait and let you sort through the jumbled mess of your emotions.  It just keeps going endlessly-for the time being, anyway-on.  You don't get a chance to catch your breath or really think about what's happening.  Lately, for me, that's been sort of a blessing.

love always, laura.

  I don't care what you say- except I do because it hurts me when you tell me the love of my life doesn't match your standards of physically challenging.  But how often do you have to suffer through extreme tests of endurance while putting on a pretty face and making it all look good?  Please don't feel like I'm attacking your sport, because I am absolutely not; besides, we've already cleared up that it would never be possible for me to even try it.  I just want you to respect my passion and if you still have a different opinion about Ballet, please just keep it to yourself.  It's better for both of us in the long run.

Just Dance.

I hope the sun shines

and it's a beautiful day

and something reminds you

you wish you had stayed

Because this is real life, people.

In real life, people do drugs and have sex and tell lies.  In real life, people kiss you because "why not?" and people don't kiss you because "why?".  In real life, guys give incredible hugs and make beautiful manipulations.  In real life, girls compliment the face and gossip behind the back.  In real life, tables come crashing down because three teenage boys are playing war at a party.

In real life, feelings collide and so do thoughts.  In fact, real life is practically a war of head and heart, with a little will mixed in.  That's just real life.  Real life is math equations and story problems and punctuation and bad singing.  Real life is harsh and doesn't make sense.

But sometimes we get to have moments of fake life, like first kisses by a stream and fitting in.  Moments like painting a set or winning first place or someone unexpected flirt with you.  It's like re-reading your favorite book by a fireplace or having caramel hot chocolate with the most amazing people at IHOP at one in the morning.  Fake life is like hope and happiness and non-reality.

Fake life is taking risks, but so is real life.  We're all fake life and we're all real life and it's all life and the best part is that we all share it.

The best way to stay clean is to not start.
love always, laura.

No good life is led on maybes.

"Here's my palm; care to read it?"

Because, who knows, maybe you'll learn something.

Maybe you can tell my why I'm so constantly on the verge of tears lately, for no good reason; I've seen my two best friends more in the past three days than I have in the previous two weeks, I'm understanding my math, and I've been reading more often.  Why am I on the verge of tears?  And why can't I seem to talk to him about it anymore?

Maybe you can tell me how I feel; what I think and what I don't.  You could see, possibly, what I think of him and what, hopefully, he thinks of me.  Why I think I have to act a certain way when I don't and why I can't seem to talk to him anymore.

Maybe you could tell me how he really feels, from looking at the hand he once held.  Maybe it left something, residue, for lack of a better word; maybe from that, you can deduce why he's doing what he's done and why he's said what he said.

Maybe, also, you could decide how long my life will be.  But don't tell me; I don't want to know.  I prefer living in my dream of forever young; after all, we only grow up when we stop having fun.
Maybe I miss how we were.

Then again, maybe you can't.
But I know we can never go back.  So thanks, Mitchell, now I'm alone again.

Maybe you'll see a tired hand, fingernails painted some off color that you know I hate, but that's all.  Hands really don't tell you much.  If you really want answers, look at my eyes.  Eyes will tell you everything.
For one thing, if they're green, you'll know I've given up holding it back.

love always, laura.

In Hell we starve; In Heaven, we feed each other.

"Laura, what happened?"

"Nothing happened.  Nothing has happened.  Nothing has been said and nothing has been done and nothing is precisely the problem."

"Nothing happens and nothing matters."

I re-read what I said to that lovely, lovely boy and then I re-re-read it.  And then read it thinking of nothing as an actual thing [which may be contradictory, but oh well. It's fine].  And suddenly it was a much happier sentence.
Nothing happens because things can't always be happening, but nothing is a thing too so maybe they can.  Nothing may mean nothing good, but nothing can always mean nothing bad too.
Nothing matters because without nothing, we wouldn't appreciate the somethings.

Don't take nothing for granted.  Don't take something for granted.  Don't take people for granted and don't take your senses for granted.

love always, laura.

Magic is the night sky.

I admit the time is rather unconventional but after inspiration fueled by reading everyone else actually posting, I decided to get off my lazy cyber bum and write the post that has eluded me for the past week...ish.

I saw a shooting star tonight while craning my head back, observing the stars as I always do while blindly making my way towards my house.  I wished.  I told a few special people.  I remembered the last time I saw shooting stars.

There's a month and two days left of summer.

I realize that just about all I've wanted is a Summer romance. [that lasts beyond summer.]  All I've wished for.  Is that petty?  Maybe.  Did that stop me? ....

All I've done is daydream and long to be held.

But I realize that it won't always work out, that you have to wait for the right guy to come along instead of settling for someone else just because you want the feelings again.

So, unless a month and two days is enough time for a boy to fall madly for me, one of the lines on my bucket list will go unchecked:

"Be kissed by someone special."

And I'm slowly making myself okay with that.

love starfish.