Jennifer Aniston is fed up with the rumors and media scrutiny surrounding her and other women and wrote a strongly-worded blog post titled “For The Record,” which was published on The Huffington Post.
“Let me start by saying that addressing gossip is something I have never done. I don’t like to give energy to the business of lies, but I wanted to participate in a larger conversation that has already begun and needs to continue. Since I’m not on social media, I decided to put my thoughts here in writing.
I am a true believer that everything happens for a reason – and I am greatly appreciative of what you contributed to my life. I look back and do nothing but smile at all the great things that our short “spark of interest” took place. I was once a small seed, hung in the window waiting to be planted and you’ve planted this lonely seed and it .. I spurted life and for that alone … I say thank you.
But my dear friend this pains me to write these words to you … love is a very complex thing and it effects each of us different, but what I am trying to say is that falling in love was easy – falling out isn’t so much. My sweet you, the first one to take me expose me to the world I thank you. But like a baby bird talking flight for the very first time I must fly away. I spread my wings with the knowing that I have been taught well.
Love is like a rose, the soft delicate petals held up by a long stem but protected by thorns – so the hands of society will be careful when reaching for it. but you reached for it and the thrones careful arranged for my defense where pruned - and my rose bud blossomed and I became defenseless but I knew that I would be ok for you were holding me … I loved you for not allowing me to fall, not allowing me to wilt , not allowing me to be a captive soul.
Though the more I grew, the more we talked and exchanged love notes writing in-between false hope and wants …I happen to see the reflection of my self-bounded by questions and for that I have to break free only to find myself to understand the things that I want, the direction that I want to go. I need to figure out who, what I am and where I am willing to go. I want to make sure that no matter what I am doing that I can commit to the feelings that I have. I want to make sure that everything is lined up. That my house is in order.
I hope you understand for this young heart still has a lot to deal with, a lot to overcome, and a lot to understand and though it might sound like feet hitting concrete I want to make sure. I want to know that who I am giving my attention wants me, not for my body but for my mind to know that I am more than good looks and inexperience. I want to awaken to text messages of GOOD MORNING; I want random midday thinking about you’s. I want the same effort that I put in to you to but put in to me. I want to be loved, because I sew in love and reaping what you sow’d is where my heart is at …
Hi my name is Jess, and I am a student at Lafayette College.
I had a great idea. I’m going to start a book.
It’s a compilation of letters and picture. You provide the letters; I’ll provide the pictures. I want letters from exes: happy, sad, regretful, hopeful, long, short, etc., I want them all. Please send them to me, typed up or submitted, with or without a name, preferably with a date. Let people know!!! I want this to work!
Your presence gives me vision. If I could I would tire over canvas so that you could see what you inspire in me. At night I see you in my dreams. On a dock, tall grass swaying around you, kicking your feet into the deep blackness. You beckon me to sit with you. I can’t. I see you in a rowboat way down below. I’m on the rocks and you wave to me, lantern swinging. It’s raining but you are laughing, you throw your head back. I can only watch, I’m too high up to reach you. Its winter cold and we’re on the beach, you leap into my arms and I twirl us in a circle. Sand trickles from your driftwood-coloured hair, we crash and you disappear. In your eyes I see clouds rolling across the ocean, I wait for the sunlight to play a more cheerful tune as I sit to sketch you. You squeeze my hand tightly but the water laps at your feet and you run into the waves. I feel your heart beating as I press against your ribs, is this the last time that our bodies will intertwine? I think of it often.
I should stop dreaming but how can I feel alive and forgo love? If we can love each other quietly when the fire dies down and everyone’s back inside, will you sit with me? Wrap our arms around our knees and say each of the hard things. I love you but I don’t think we will ever see what potential we hold in our limbs and toes. Fingers wrapped tightly and cheek to cheek, hips swaying slightly but still beneath a thin white sheet that separates and folds our lives into two different molds. Maybe we’ll sit back to back in a field of wheat and dream out loud and then fall asleep only to wake up face to face, rearrange ourselves back into a proper place. This isn’t a proper place, but I’d like you to know that I’ve waited more than a year for these feelings to fade but instead they continue to steep into a strong black tea more bitter than sweet. And I can only hope that I love you still even if the edge of this thrill does eventually dull and I am finally lulled back to a more wakeful state. Until that time, just know that each night I am yours, and yes this is something I might regret but I’m glad that you’ve found out that you are the one that I’ve been dreaming about. Did you know? And maybe this is too much to ask, but if you find yourself dreaming of oceans and shore, sand under feet and rain in your hair, if there are stars up above and rocks way down below, glance over your shoulder because you aren’t really alone- I am with you. Come find me.
A cleaned up version of an unfinished poem I found I reckon I started this way back in 2011
He doesn’t listen to you, he doesn’t return your calls He’s done one on you ain’t he? Chewed you up and spat you out proper ain’t he? And no message you spend in a bottle Will ever reach his shores You’ve been hustled out of your intimacy
You can’t stop going over the scenario All the possibles and probably could'ves The next holiday, your first child’s name But you’ve been hoodwinked good and true It pains me to see the pain crawl on your face But I can’t help but succumb to a grin This is the most I’ve ever seen you in a week I always want to see you, but only now you agree
You can’t get the boy you want But you can get me, I guarantee You always had me whether you knew it or not You had me good and proper you did Cos I never feel more at home at all Unless I’m sharing the same soil as you As we see the day to an end On a cul-de-sac hillside, wondering why
I know I’m not the working class atlas I know I’m lagging on the witty pace But nothing amounts to the glee I feel when you’re in my vicinity But maybe that’s just dead selfish of me You might be better keeping me at bay
Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories. See if there are any patterns. Tag your favorite authors!
So I might have stolen this from one of my favorite authors, @fancyladssnacks Moving on. I pulled the last twenty I posted, because I don’t remember what order I wrote all this in and I cannot be bothered to try to find out. Ooops.
Devil’s Fox: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6422401 After a childhood of being not more than a few hours ride from my son, with the capacity of contacting him once a week if not once a night, it was difficult to be regulated to once every several months.
Continue the Species: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6000016/chapters/13782910 They had caught them fair, the six of them, he and Virile; six weak humans and their wolves, skulking around and killing his brothers, one in a metal case that had protected him more than the others when they had fallen into the trap, though none of them had been strong enough to escape.
The Devil Was An Angel Too: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6297613 By the time Silas retired from the military, he decided, he was going to have so many weekend passes accrued, he’d be able to take a month and a half right off the end with no fuss.
Little Lady: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5992927 Sixteen was the limit in Little Lamplight; he had no illusions that some of the younger kids might want him to stay, but sixteen was the limit for a reason.
I suppose the only pattern I see is they all start sort of declarative/explainatory? Hm. That’s a thought.
Everyone really aught to do this for giggles, but some of you I know are writers! Like @egodominustuus and @zpansven and @princess-of-assholes and I’m approximately 90% sure @missblue664 also writes. I know that @khantoelessar writes, because I read it and it was delicious, and @allisonpick writes and I need to respond to one of her tags anyway. Whoops. @asukaskerian writes delicious fic all over the place and should definitely be read, as does @chaoticreactions who writes for Voltron (help I tripped into the fandom) and @arcanebarrage who I now officially stalk because they officially drug me into Overwatch and now I ship Hanzo/McCree. Help.
Not necessarily true on Taylor not naming names. Dear John? The secret message in Should've Said No? Hey Stephen? Her hyping the infamous Joe Jonas phone call? It might not always be in a bad way. I wish I had a link because I remember in an interview she was promoting her new album (Red maybe? Possibly Speak Now.) and said "this time I'm naming names." Not trying to be rude, and I know she doesn't do this anymore since she has matured.
Dear John?????? lmao there’s such thing as a ‘dear john’ aka a break up letter, it could’ve been about any John (it was purely the media and hilariously, john mayer himself who decided it was about him)
should’ve said no - well I mean….yeah she was 16 and it’s not like his name is in the song and it’s not like he’s in the spotlight at all, he was literally just another 16 year old pimple-covered teenager from her high school
hey stephen - hey this is a nice song! who wouldn’t want someone to be like ‘hey I wrote this really nice song and I’m dedicating it to you!’ plus the guy is virtually non-existent in the spotlight
the infamous joe jonas phone call lmao idk she was like 18 or something….in comparison to a 39 and 35 year old….