reblog and make a wish! this was removed from tumbrl due to “violating one or more of Tumblr’s Community Guidelines”, but since my wish came true the first time, I’m putting it back. :)

Men are supposed to fall in love with you falling in love with yourself

For years I never quite understood the whole you have to love yourself first in order for others to love you.

But now I do and I’ll explain it as best as I can:

When you walk into a room, the only thing you have going for you is your appearance and attitude (aka confidence)

You could be a loving, creative highly intelligent woman beneath the layers of insecurity, but if you act insecure, don’t take up space and speak negatively of yourself, people will just accept that conclusion about you because again they can only know what you show them, they’ll assume that you must have something to be insecure about.

Similarly, you could have previously been the ugly duckling, could have been bullied at school, picked last, a victim of trauma, but if you act confident and speak highly about yourself, that’s the only conclusion people will take with them, they’ll assume you have a good life going for you because you’re confident.

You are a walking advertisement for yourself, everywhere you go, through your confidence(or lack of)you’re telling people how you feel about yourself and how they should expect to treat you.

We are wired to want the best for ourselves, so given the choice between a confident and insecure person we’ll choose the confident one, because they carry the promise of a good time!

Think about weddings, there’s always that one bridesmaid who’s a bundle of light, she’s talking to the DJ, and helping the staff serve food and chatting up the elder family members, everyone loves her and remembers her. Think about the cool girl you meet in the bathroom of a club, she lets you borrow her lipstick and gives you an uplifting compliment and makes you feel good about yourself, and you think wow I’d love to get to know her.

THAT’s the impact of self confidence, it’s this luminosity that’s so addictive and that draws everybody in.

In dating too, you will have the best outcome if you carry yourself with utmost confidence knowing that you’re adding more and contributing to anyone who walks into your life.

something about horror as a genre is very inherently similar to romance, but it’s differently romantic. it’s like if romance could be compared to a rabbit, then horror is a hare. a hare is the same shape-ish as a rabbit, but it’s different; it’s upturned and eerie and comes at you from a sideways angle.

i think this connection between the two genres is the presence of love. love as a concept. romance is the genre that beautifies love, and horror is the genre that explores love in ways that aren’t beautiful. horror is the monstrosity of love gone sour, or the absence of love, or the emotions that the intensity of love and pain birth. slasher horror is monstrous obsession, while existential horror always has a narrative that makes you rethink what love means, what being human means. just like romance.

sorry if this makes no sense but i’m willing to talk about this if others discourse politely!

When did I become I and the body? When did the two of us separate? ~ Adit Nagrath

The Letters of Vincent Van Gogh (Part II)

Quotes I Enjoy:

• When one lives with others and is bound by feelings of affection, then one realises that one has a reason for living, that one may not be utterly worthless nd expendable, but it is perhaps good for something, since we need one another and are journeying together as compagnons de voyage.

• I find it hard to bear this thought and even harder to bear the thought that so much dissension, misery and sorrow between us, and in our home, may have been caused by me. Should that indeed be the case, then I might wish it were granted me not to have much longer to live.

Yet when this thought sometimes depresses me beyond measure, far too deeply, then after a long time another occurs too: 'Perhaps it is only an awful, frightening dream and later we may learn to see and understand it more clearly.'

• It is sometimes so bitterly cold in the winter that one says, 'The cold is too awful for me to care whether summer is coming or not; the harm outdoes the good.' But with or without our approval, the severe weather does come to an end eventually and one fine morning the wind changes and there is a thaw. When I compare the state of weather to our state of mind and our circumstances, subject to change and fluctuation like the weather, then I still have some hope that things may get better.

• It is true that I have forfeited the trust of various people, it is true that my financial affairs are in a sorry state, it is true that my future looks rather bleak, it is true that I might have done better, it is true I have wasted time when it comes to earning a living, it is true that my studies are in a fairly lamentable and appalling state, and that my needs are greater, infinitely greater than my resources. But does that mean going downhill and doing nothing?

• If I do nothing, if I study nothing, if I cease searching, then, woe is me. I am lost. That is how I look at it - keep going, keep going come what may. But what is your final goal, you may ask. That goal will become clearer, will emerge slowly but surely, much as the draft turns into the sketch and the sketch into the painting through the serious work done on it, through the elaboration of the original vague idea and through the consolidation of the first fleeting and passing thought.

• You said, we used to agree about many things, but, you added, 'You have changed since then, you are no longer the same.' Well, that is not entirely true. What has changed is that my life then was less difficult and my future seemingly less gloomy, but as far as my inner self, my way of looking at things and of thinking is concerned, that has not changed.

But if there has indeed been a change, then it is that I think, believe and love more seriously now what I thought, believed and loved even then.

• Can you tell what goes on within by looking at what happens without? There may be a great fire in your soul, but no one ever comes to warm himself by it, all that passers-by can see is a little smoke coming out of the chimney and they walk on.

• You may never have thought what your country really is, he continued, placing his hand on my shoulder; it is everything around you, everything that has raised and nourished you, everything that you have loved. This countryside that you see, these houses, these trees, these young girls laughing as they pass, that is your country!

The laws that protect you, the bread that rewards your labour, the words you speak, the joy and sorrow that come from the people and things in whose midst you live, that is your country! The little room where you used in days gone by to see your mother, the memories she left you, the earth in which she rests, that is your country!

You see it, you breathe it, everywhere! Imagine your rights and your duties, your affections and your needs, your memories and your gratitude, gather all that together under a single name and that name will be your country.

• Sometimes he is a person whose right to exist has a justification that is not always immediately obvious to you, or more usually, you may absent-mindedly allow it to slip from your mind. Someone who has been wandering about for a long time, tossed to and fro on a stormy sea, will in the end reach his destination. Someone who has seemed to be good for nothing, unable to fill any job, any appointment, will find one in the end and, energetic and capable, will prove himself quite different from what he seemed at first.

• I should be very happy if you could see in me something more than a kind of ne'er-do-well. For there is a great difference between one ne'er-do-well and another ne'er-do-well. There is someone who is a ne'er-do-well out of laziness and lack of character, owing to the baseness of his nature. If you like, you may take me for one of those.

Then there is the other kind of ne'er-do-well, the ne'er-do-well despite himself, who is inwardly consumed by a great longing for action, who does nothing because his hands are tied, because he is, so to speak, imprisoned somewhere, because he lacks what he needs to be productive, because disastrous circumstances have brought him forcibly to this end.

Such a one does not always know what he can do, but he nevertheless instinctively feels, I am good for something! My existence is not without reason! I know that I could be a quite different person! How can I be of use, how can I be of service? There is something inside me, but what can it be? He is quite another ne'er-do-well. If you like you may take me for one of those.

• A caged bird in spring knows perfectly well that there is some way in which he should be able to serve. He is well aware that there is something to be done, but he is unable to do it. What is it? He cannot quite remember, but then he gets a vague inkling and he says to himself, "The others are building their nests and hatching their young and bringing them up," and then he bangs his head against the bars of the cage.

But the cage does not give way and the bird is maddened by pain. 'What a ne'er-do-well,' says another bird passing by - what an idler. Yet the prisoner lives and does not die. There are no outward signs of what is going on inside him, he is doing well, he is quite cheerful in the sunshine.

But then the season of the great migration arrives: an attack of melancholy. He has everything he needs, say the children who tend him in his cage - but he looks out, the heavy thundery sky, and in his heart of hearts he rebels against his fate. I am caged and you say I need nothing, you idiots! I have everything I need, indeed! Oh, please give me the freedom to be a bird like other birds.

• A justly or unjustly ruined reputation, poverty, disastrous circumstances, misfortune, they all turn you into a prisoner. You cannot always tell what keeps you confined, what immures you, what seems to bury you, and yet you can feel those elusive bars, railings, walls. Is all this illusion, imagination? I don't think so. And then one asks: my God, will it be for long, will it be forever, will it be for eternity?

Do you know what makes the prison disappear? Every deep, genuine affection. Being friends, being brothers, loving, that is what opens the prison, with supreme power, by some magic force. Without these one stays dead. But wherever affection is revived, there life revives. Moreover, the prison is sometimes called prejudice, misunderstanding, fatal ignorance of one thing or another, suspicion, fake modesty.

• If you ever fall in love, do so without reservation, or rather, if you should fall in love simply give no thought to any reservation. Moreover, when you do fall in love, you will not 'feel certain' of success beforehand. You will be a lost soul and yet you will smile.

• When he reads something profound, he doesn't immediately come out with: that man means this or that. For poetry is so deep and intangible that one cannot define it systematically. But Mauve has a keen sensibility and, you see, I find that sensibility worth a great deal more than definitions and criticisms.

• Books like that are filled with reality, but what is more real than reality itself and where is there more life than in life itself? And we who are doing our best to live, if only we lived a great deal more!

• Who is the master, logic or I, does logic exist for me or do I exist for logic, and is there no reason or sense in my unreasonableness or my lack of sense?

• I am anything but a man of learning, and I am so amazingly ignorant, oh, just like so many others and even more so than others, but I am unable to judge that myself and can judge others even less than myself and am often mistaken. But we pick up the scent as we wander about and there is some good in every movement.

• The world, however, does not reason like that and never sees or respects man's 'humanity' but only the greater or lesser value of the money or goods he carries with him so long as he is on this side of the grave. The world takes no account at all of what happens beyond the grave. That is why the world goes no further than its feet will take it.