Emily Bronte

Remembrance

Cold in the earth -- and the deep snow piled above thee,
Far, far removed, cold in the dreary grave!
Have I forgot, my only Love, to love thee,
Severed at last by Time's all-severing wave?

Now, when alone, do my thoughts no longer hover
Over the mountains, on that northern shore,
Resting their wings where heath and fern leaves cover
Thy noble heart forever, ever more?

Cold in the earth -- and fifteen wild Decembers,
From those brown hills, have melted into spring;
Faithful, indeed, is the spirit that remembers
After such years of change and suffering!

Sweet Love of youth, forgive, if I forget thee,
While the world's tide is bearing me along;
Other desires and other hopes beset me,
Hopes which obscure, but cannot do thee wrong!

No later light has lightened up my heaven,
No second morn has ever shone for me;
All my life's bliss from thy dear life was given,
All my life's bliss is in the grave with thee.

But, when the days of golden dreams had perished,
And even Despair was powerless to destroy,
Then did I learn how existence could be cherished,
Strengthened, and fed without the aid of joy.

Then did I check the tears of useless passion --
Weaned my young soul from yearning after thine;
Sternly denied its burning wish to hasten
Down to that tomb already more than mine.

And, even yet, I dare not let it languish,
Dare not indulge in memory's rapturous pain;
Once drinking deep of that divinest anguish,
How could I seek the empty world again? 

Fun is the New Hot.

Working out has a converse effect on me. The skinner I get, the fatter I feel. Anyone with me?

When you're throwing down triple chocolate meltdowns, life is good. But once bizarre things like getting more defined butt dimples becomes the sole reason for your existence -- you start to hate your body and your life.

I feel like health, fitness, and beauty is this huge melodrama that women get sucked into. And it's so pointless. No one notices when you lose five pounds. Or cares.

This is the thought that led to my brilliant daydream. Imagine if all the beauty-obsessed women in the world transferred their energy into being fun. So like, at a party where everyone would typically be competing for the hottest, trying to get the most guys, and instagramming sexy pictures of themselves (booooring), instead, the secret competition would be about who could be the funniest, the craziest, and make the most people laugh.

The results were as follows:

Since you can't be fun all by yourself - no longer would girls be catty, exclusive, and throwing each other under the bus - they would be spontaneous, silly, and willing to look stupid for a change. In fact, we would probably be having so much fun that we wouldn't care about meeting guys. Then they would have to chase us -- which is what we're really after anyway (lets be honest).

Oh, and, we'd probably all just get skinny from being so happy.