Kill Routine

A young and beautiful Blogger named Anki.

Link: http://ankiachievable.blogspot.com/

Check it out.

real women are not perfect and perfect women are not real.

the images of beauty sold to us by the media have been so contorted and recolored, that they result in creatures inhuman. 

images of beauty which are humanly impossible to achieve. 

yet, we are willing to do anything and everything, to sacrifice our well being in order to meet society’s standards for beauty.

what about your standards?

i wonder what your perception of beauty would be if hollywood wasn’t telling you that your self-worth was reliant upon your appearance or what the number read on the scale. 

maybe you would recognize your beauty lies in your individuality; in the little things that make you unique.

because although mannequins live in a world of perfection, every mannequin is the same.

they have the same body, eyes, proportions, lips.

there is nothing special about them.

our differences are what make us interesting and set us apart as individuals. 

our flaws are what make us beautiful.

we are human, and thus imperfect.

we cannot stop the media from selling its false promises of beauty and distorted images.

we can however, refuse to buy into them.

we can choose what and whom we surround ourselves with.

make the choice to accept your body for what is.

a beautifully imperfect vessel which carries your soul.

unique and one of a kind.

and always worthy of love.

because we all share an identical need for love, it is possible to feel that anybody we meet, in whatever circumstances, is a brother or sister. 

no matter how new the face or how different the dress and behavior, there is no significant division between us and other people.

it is foolish to dwell on external differences, because our basic natures are the same.

each day, we are given the opportunity to make choices of many kinds.

some are big, and impact our life greatly.

while others are smaller, and their effects may be less apparent. 

then there are those decisions that affect people close to us, and in turn we are also affected. 

all the same, no choice we make, is a wrong one. 

a particular decision may lead us slightly astray or down a dead-end path, but we always have the power to choose a different road and make a new choice that will lead to a better future. 

we are seldom aware of the gravity of a particular choice at the time of making it.

often times, only hindsight can reveal the wisdom of a faulty decision or a well-made choice.

nevertheless, no choice is without importance in the overall picture of our lives, both the good, and the bad.

we learn, grow, and become stronger from each experience that we face and overcome. 

and at the same time, no choice is all-powerful in determining our future.

change is omnipresent. 

we always have opportunities to make the right choices.

the world is the lock. 

but you are the key.

the recipe for change rests within you. 

“although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.” helen keller

life is full of hardships and challenges.

we can choose to meet them fearfully or in a spirit of welcome.

to choose fear, is almost as if to say, “i won’t take the risk because i might lose”.

and inevitably, this prevents us from ever overcoming the obstacle and winning—from truly finding freedom from them. 

if we welcome the hardship however, we acknowledge that life is made up of losses as well as victories—of gains as well as pain. 

it is the hardship we are faced with that allows us to appreciate the serenity and beauty that that life has to offer.

in meeting life’s struggles with optimism, we find the courage to persist, despite the odds.

and it is this persistence which leads to success and recovery. 

as long as you keep taking steps forward, you will reach the end of the dark tunnel.

you may take two steps forward and one step back each time.

your journey may be slow, but persistence and determination will get you to the end.

and you will reach the light.

only you can set yourself free.

one step at a time.

" I pray for the broken hearted.I pray for the life not started.I pray for all the ones not breathing.I pray for all the souls that needed to pray.Can you give them one today?"

Don’t bend; don’t water it down; don’t try to make it logical; don’t edit your own soul according to the fashion. Rather, follow your most intense obsessions mercilessly.

yuken teruya is amazing. check out his site here and admire his paper slicing skills.

“Best Powerpoint Ever” made with Google Docs. This is incredible.

Sadness is easier because its surrender. I say make time to dance alone with one hand waving free.

When I get lonely these days, I think: So BE lonely. Learn your way around loneliness. Make a map of it. Sit with it, for once in your life. Welcome to the human experience. But never again use another person’s body or emotions as a scratching post for your own unfulfilled yearnings.

If you want to be happy, be.

Today, no planes flew into any buildings.

Today, there was no fire falling from the sky.

Today, there were no riots in the streets.

Today, the news was mostly just about famous people.

Today, no shaky footage was recorded of children running from a burning village.

Today, not one person stood in front of a tank.

Today, no one put flowers in the rifle barrels of guns.

Today, you will check your mail.

Today, no shots rang out over a black cavalcade.

Today, there was no negotiated revolution.

Today, no flags were burned.

Today, sport will be played and people will be upset over the outcome.

Tomorrow however, is a new day.

There is no music, just the sound of the wind and the leaves it touches. But hopefully that'll be music enough, for you.

Sometimes the things you can’t change

end up
changing
you.

How many hearts would be invaded for the wrong reasons, if each time you said "I love you", you meant it?

Somewhere right now a person was punched, a phone call made, a word just finished being spoken, a word began, a word on the way, a box crushed, a dream awoken, a death occurred, a house dreamed, a person defeated, a person overjoyed, a can kicked, a bird shot, a speech concluded, money raised, suicide contemplated, truth sought, morals discarded, faith found, voices raised, lips touched, skin connected, humans created, God smiled, said “Hello Love”, blankets donated, hands clapped, thoughts happened, refrigerator cooling units clicked on, rain falling, planets orbit, cats meow, hands clasp, people pray, we all sleep in the same bed, memories made, eyes closed, we all sleep together, is happening.
somewhere, right now, everything is happening.

You said I was rare. 

Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self.

I washed the windows with newspaper,

wondering whether it was the soft paper,

the heavy inks,

or the weighty subject matter

that cleaned the glass so easily.

I walked upstairs

and found my fingers stained with the dirt.

Either the paper

or the window.

One day, you’ll wake up and realise how you let time slip away.

You’ll see the world for what it really is, and you might be saddened by how little you felt you achieved.

But that same day, you’ll do the same things you do every other day, but you’ll see them differently. Maybe you’ll realise that your actions affected every single person you ever came into contact with.

Saying good morning, sparing some change, helping others with things like crossing a road, getting off a bus… every single gesture has made you into a truly kind person, you’ll see your friends and loved ones they’ll will have a sparkle in their eye whenever they look at you.

your skin may get old, but your heart should remain young

Live everyday like it’s truly your last.

Love like you’ll never see the person again.

Always dance like nobody is watching.

Never let your fears get the best of you.

You don’t want to wake up that day, and be proven right every step of the way.

I want to tell him that I’m done
Feeling like shit
Trying to get shit together
That I’ve come out on top of all this so much stronger
But I haven’t.

I have a sign like this on my door.

It says “Please make up my room”.

Today I woke up and read Please make up my mind.

My subconscious is probably right.

Yet, no matter how accurately you write it or mumble it under your breath, it won’t change the way things stand between you. A poem, let alone a paragraph, is not a magic spell. And the only people who can write those stay in padded rooms, listening to music no one’s ever played.

People will wish you all the success in the world. And then hate you when you get it.

Lately I’ve been too hungover, too stupid, too cryptic, too unreachable, too angsty, too obtuse, too arrogant, too excessive, too tired, too lustful, too mad to give you a good impression of myself. That first night we spent together, in our unavoidable attraction, that is where we belong forever. But soon I’m leaving town, going to a place where I have no place. I just wish you were here in my bed tonight

On days like these, when my brain doesn’t want to form coherent sentences or interesting dialogues, I wish I had a pad of paper and a pen. And I wish it was alright for me just to write down what I wanted to say and show it to people. As a child, when we would pretend that we couldn’t speak, I loved to show what I wanted to express through pantomime or through my words on paper. I wish that this was an acceptable form of communication for someone with a functioning mouth, healthy hearing, and normal societal tendencies. It would be so much easier to get to know people, to express myself to them. There would be no awkward silences.

So if all we have is that glance in the window,
If all we have is till this train stops,
If all we have is till the sun comes up,
till your lift picks you up,
And if all we have is till that day comes,


One day you will be nostalgic for now.

Don’t be shy. You can take another piece of me. Everyone else already has.

Until there’s nothing left. Until I disappear.

So it’s been so long since you said,
"well i know what i want and what i want’s right here with you.

I rarely write or say what is actually on my mind. I will say crude things, I will say humorus things; but nothing that holds any weight. I’m scared to death of rejection and having any emotional attatchment to anything. So I keep myself guarded and I keep you far away from me. I push and I push until everyone is on the edge of a cliff, far far away from my heart. Its a trait that will be the end of me, but I can’t stop it. I’ve been ruined by every lie he ever told, every hand thats been placed upon my shoulder; I am damaged goods and you shouldn’t want me. I ruin people like they have ruined me. I am incapable of truely loving something back because nobody can get through my walls and bridges and locks.

And maybe I’ll sleep at the station because there’s nothing to go home to but an empty fridge and some stale mayonnaise.

And maybe I’ll make friends with the guys sleeping under cardboard boxes and newspapers and we’ll discuss what it means to love and to live.

And maybe I’ll wander the city, one lost particle in a dust storm of Mondays, late nights and reports due yesterday.

And maybe I’ll get on a plane or a ship and get lost in places I’ve never been lost in before.

And maybe I’ll keep my phone on me in case you call. And tell me there’s something to come home to.