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Sonnet 87

Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing,
And like enough thou know’st thy estimate,
The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing:
My bonds in thee are all determinate.
For how do I hold thee but by thy granting,
And for that riches where is my deserving?
The cause of this fair gift in me is wanting,
And so my patent back again is swerving.
Thy self thou gav’st, thy own worth then not knowing,
Or me to whom thou gav’st it, else mistaking,
So thy great gift, upon misprision growing,
Comes home again, on better judgement making.
Thus have I had thee as a dream doth flatter,
In sleep a King, but waking no such matter.

~William Shakespeare

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Spring

I had watched you taking in the spring
through dusty sun-kissed bodies wondering

Between you and me
As if they don’t see this distraction
This beautiful view
This delicate you in the way

If I follow you tonight
And leave tomorrow
If it’s all forgotten love
forgotten love

If I follow you then
I will need you closer
One more day is not enough

Anything that I could ask of you
Is more than anything that I could do

What did I say
I cannot say I remember
but every word
Seems so absurd my love

If I follow you tonight
And leave tomorrow
If it’s all forgotten love
Forgotten love

If I follow you then
I will need you closer
One more day is not enough

I don’t mind
If all this time
Is all that we had to spend
Everyone carelessly pretend

If I follow you tonight
And leave tomorrow
If it’s all forgotten love
Forgotten love

If I follow you then
I will need you closer
One more day is not enough

Two Door Cinema Club

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17

Bad boys

Alright, here it is, what you all (or at least the nice guys) have been waiting for…my take on “bad boys”. Not that you’ve actually necessarily been waiting for my take specifically…but I like to pretend you care what I have to say. And I do know that this is a topic of interest. 🙂 So, I have a theory, and I will share it with you.

My theory is quite simple actually… I think women like bad boys because they think they will be better in bed.

Now, before you freak out and tell me this isn’t so, first of all, it’s my theory, and yes I could be wrong, but second of all, I think a lot of women either won’t admit this or they don’t even know it themselves. It can be subconscious. It’s not really something we need to think about, it’s just a vibe they give and we get. Even if women are not pursuing sex at the time, it’s always something that’s on the table in male/female interactions. It may be completely not addressed, but it’s always there.

To break it down a little more as to why women may feel this way, generally bad boys have been with a lot more women. More experience translates to more skill, which of course is better. Also, they seem to be more wild, bigger risk takers, etc.; translating to more interesting sex. I think we fear nice guys just won’t be that fun. More considerate, sure, caring about what makes us happy…but if we want fiery passion, bad boys it is.

I think there could be other aspects to our love of bad boys too; usually bad boys are highly coveted so if you’re with one, then you are better than all the other women that aren’t with him. He chose you. (Even though he may be choosing ten of you at once.) Big self-esteem booster. Also, they may be more fun in general, not just in bed. Maybe we like a man that’s in control, and we feel like nice guys just let us do whatever we want.

I’m sure there’s plenty of psychology on this, but I haven’t discovered any yet, so I will not be able to touch on the potential multitudes of contributing factors for why women love bad boys. If I find stuff on it maybe I’ll do another post. But for now, just based on my own personal study of it, I think the main reason, whether we know it or not, is that we think they’ll be more fun “in the sack”, as the kids say…haha 🙂

*Women – before you go attacking what I said, I want you to think about it for a really long time. If you still disagree, please, comment! 🙂

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Thoughts from today

Some things I was thinking today…I suppose you can, and will, take them however you’d like…

Women overanalyze, but men are blind.

Money can’t buy you love, but sex can buy you everything else.

I think that more beauty in writing, and maybe other art forms, comes out of heartbreak. Poems/writings about love can be very beautiful, but they don’t generally leave me absolutely speechless and make me just want to cry but be unable to. Poems/writings about lost love often do.

I’m a photographer. I love Love. But out of the thousands of photos I have, there is only one that is Love to me, without being cliche. I can’t take photos of Love. Or maybe it’s harder to capture…