I'm Analise. I'm 20 going on cynical old lady. I like beautiful pictures, funny things, words, music, food, fireworks, television, magic, dogs, Harry Potter, wanderlust, books, sarcasm, cheese, movies, and anything else that strikes a chord within my soul. This blog is a reflection of where my mind wanders and the things it finds along the way. There's a lot of food, whatever I'm obsessing over at the moment, and general randomness.
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n. the smallest measurable unit of human connection, typically exchanged between passing strangers—a flirtatious glance, a sympathetic chuckle, a nod of mutual respect, a shared laugh about some odd coincidence—moments that are fleeting and random and unexceptional but still contain powerful emotional nutrients that can alleviate the symptoms of feeling alone.
(Source: dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com)
We’re all taught that one day, one perfect day, we will fall in love with someone who loves us back. In one precise moment in time, we will be lucky enough to love someone who feels the same way. Not that you will love someone who doesn’t care, that someone else loves you when you can’t love them, that the one you are trying to love loves you too much, or that you and another just missed the moment to love each other. No, it will be perfect. You’ll just know, they all say. Know what? That the one I love I can’t have? Is that the great love they all speak of? That perfect moment is not here, not now. So I will tell myself that this is not love, to get me by.
