Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him. Many people thought he was mad and stupid for doing so because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn’t possible have any direct correlation to one’s happiness, but I never saw that. If you were so unhappy that even the maddest ideas could possible work, like painting the walls of your internal organs yellow, than you are going to do it. It’s really no different than falling in love or taking drugs. There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken or overdosing, but people still do it everyday because there was always that chance it could make things better. Everyone has their yellow paint.
I’m not for everyone. I’m barely for me.
a guy walked into the board room and said
"hi sweetheart if you could fix me up a coffee real quick im meeting with the regional reports manager in like five minutes, thanks darling"
and i just stared at him and coldly said
"i am the regional reports manager"
we are now twenty minutes into this board meeting and i dont think i’ve ever seen a man look so embarrassed and afraid in my whole life
My mom taught me one thing:
You don’t always have to tell people you love them. You just have to give them no reason to doubt it.
Once you start dating someone its like, impossible to insult them
"suck my dick" ok
“bite me” hell yeah
"kiss my ass" sure
"Fuck you" well if you insist.
"my mother was right about you, you’re pathetic, you’ve got no job, and you’ve got no future" if you insist