There will be no stock photo today but rather a thought written by a confused teenager

I will be writing this thought with my eyes completely closed. I have a Spotify playlist playing right now and the message of this thought will depend entirely on where the music takes my mind. Right now a song about being sentimental and remembering the good ol’ days with someone you love is playing. it is so sad how someone in your life can mean so much and have so much of an impact on you and then one moment they are completely gone. That absolutely terrifies me. How someone you can take all your photos with, spend so many memories with, and laugh with so much can be gone in an instant. Heartbreak is terrible. Why must life have people be so good to us and then have them taken away. It isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair.

Love.

What is it?

How does someone actually come to know what love is? Is it the feeling you get when you get your first kiss with that girl you’ve been crushing on for a month or two. Is it the feeling of seeing your mom after a long day and getting a warm hug from her? Is it when your dog or cat jumps up into your arms when you finally see them again? Is it hanging out with a friend all day and giving them a hug goodbye? Is it getting married to a girl you say you love and she says she loves you?

Yes.

All those things are love. Love comes in so many forms. Whether it’s romantic or intimate or platonic or friendly. Love is love. When parents tell their kids that they don’t know what love is, I laugh. How can someone tell someone else that they don’t really know what their heart is telling them. Love is what we all know it to be at that moment in time. A 6 year old loves his dog and smiles bright when the dog sees him and gives him kisses. True love. A 15 year old says she loves her boyfriend as she gazes into his eyes and he says it back. True love. Why is true love so hard to come by. I think we have all felt it. True love means you love something truly. So if I’m not feeling what you might call true love then is what I’m feeling fake? No. It isn’t. Sure there are things that you might just like or appreciate and not love. But the moment it makes you the happiest you’ve been all day or all week. When seeing that someone or something makes you feel happiness and joy and makes you smile more than ever. That is true love.

Being in love is something so special and so fragile that it needs to be appreciated. Love nowadays has been battered, bruised, and destroyed so many times that people think love comes from sex and sexual moments with others. I feel bad for those who have given their heart to others and have watched that very person they trusted so much throw it away and walk on it. Those are the murderers of love.

Thus comes the harsh reality of the pain of love. Not being in love but the side affects. Love is a war. Love comes with pain and worry and heartache. Not heartbreak but heartache. There’s a difference. Seeing the person you’re in love with hanging out with her girlfriends and being jealous because you wish you were there with her and they weren’t with them. This is where the maturity to acknowledge that that person has their own life before yours. To love is to respect. To love is to trust.

To receive love you must love first. To receive trust you must trust first. To receive change you must change first.

Be happy, love often, and forgive those who hurt you. Our generation must be the generation that revives love and restores it to what it should be. My biggest fear is that the true meaning of love will be lost forever.

Hm. Now this one has a message I know it does. Welcome back to what the freak is this stock photo. I am frightened but I am intrigued. It is quite interesting to see this girl so interested in that pomegranate with an octopus on it. She can obviously feel it. Why the lingerie? Maybe it is a big kink. Maybe the pomegranate was a surprise and the girl was hoping there was an octopus on it and now she knows and is very much into it. The girl blind folding the other seems to be running the whole thing. She’s staring off at the girl sulking in the corner. Maybe the sulking girl is annoyed that she doesn’t get to have the octopus. I know I would be annoyed. Quite the potential birthday party dominatrix octopus kink blindfolding moment. I feel like I can relate to them. It’s almost perfect.

Nature. Trees. Stars. Landscapes. Mountains. Rivers. Leaves. Sticks. That pine tree Christmas smell. Chestnuts. Grass. Freshly cut grass. Dead aspen trees. Fires. Camp fires. Out of control fires. Animals. Decay. Predators. The fit will survive. Brutality. Sunshine. Disease. Death. Sorrow. Pain. Hurt. Fear. Run. Hide. Don’t give up. Try harder. Eat more. Gain weight. Gain muscle. Gain fat. Choose. Try and be faster than the person next to you. Climb trees. Eat fruit. Be happy. Maybe. This Green Garden is a beautifully brutal place. Full of love and hate. Happiness and sorrow. Pain and joy. We are apart of this garden and we are ruining it. Waste. Pollution. Plastic. Toxicity. We are a disease. We are killing the very thing keeping us alive. Why do we do it. Why are we so ignorant. Why why why why why? Can’t we just go back to being excited with making a sharp stick with a rock or creating sparks by striking flint together? Oh the simplicity of being stupid.

Wtf is actually going on. Welcome back to the weekly what is happening in this stock image. First off. The computer isn’t on. How is she so absorbed into a screen that isn’t even on. At this point it is just a worse mirror. Maybe she’s looking at herself and trying to stay calm. Or maybe she’s caught up in the beauty of looking at herself. The thief is just as confused as we are. He doesn’t even know if it’s worth it to rob the girl. Maybe he feels bad because this girl is clearly hurting in her brain somehow. This woman is either the dumbest human alive or maybe she’s the smartest by playing so dumb that the thief doesn’t even want to burgle her.

I have thick wavy hair. You think wow lucky you. No. It is poofy and not fun to take care of. Waking up in the morning and looking myself in the mirror is a struggle as I am an unrecognizable creature. Some spawn of the underworld. Put on a hat and now everyone loves you. The hair flowing out the back and imagining running your hands through it. So dreamy. Hats are makeup for guys. We use them to cover up what we don’t want to take care of. Sort of like girls and make up. If only hats and make up weren’t a thing. We would all be quite vulnerable. Quite realistic. Life would be realistic. We would be able to see who we truly are on the outside anyway. I think we need to stop wearing so many hats and stop putting on so much makeup. Take care of your hair and your skin. Become confident again.

I came across this image while surfing the internet and well it is quite the oddity. What sort of grandmother would teach her grandkids this? The all blonde is a little much and why does the grandma use a bigger knife than the rest? Look at her watch. Typical old person. Maybe the kids are teaching her. Maybe it’s a competition to see who can do it the fastest and whoever can gets to survive the night. The kid in the back obviously is being a wuss as he didn’t cut his hand because there is no blood on the knife or on the cutting board. I say he should use two knives in one hand because he isn’t being a good sport about it.

I hate crayons. I always have. I swear I was the only kid that hated crayons with such a passion that those who used crayons I disliked and didn’t trust. The feeling of the paper on the crayon and the wax itself is excruciating. I will always like my colored pencils. So what that I’m different. My childhood was the same as yours. Just without crayons. Screw you and your 64 crayon sharpening box. I like breaking my pencils on paper and sharpening them with the class sharpener. I don’t need to be like you. Come at me. I’ll step on your crayons and smile as they break under my feet.

To recognize or not to recognize. Try harder. Look back at the picture. Go ahead. Can you see? Why can’t you? Of course these things exist. What are you doing wrong? Look harder. Closer. Name one thing. You’re not stupid. You know you aren’t. Unless you are? You say you’re smart. Then prove it. Name something in this picture. You can’t do it. You can’t open up. You’re fake. Unless… you can name something. Oh well guess I’ll wait.

What does it mean to be a robot. To be a pigeon but pigeons are alive. Does being a robot mean being predictable or not having emotions. Being programmed. But we can program robots to be emotional. I am programmed by the earth or by a higher power. Aren’t we all robots? Am I just a more sophisticated robot? We need energy to survive. Robots need energy to survive. We are robots programming other robots. Emotional robots. We are nothing but a program, living, loving, and judging other robots. Different wires different personalities. You’re a robot. So am I. What’s the big deal?