“You cannot convince people to love you. This is an absolute rule. No one will ever give you love because you want him or her to give it. Real love moves freely in both directions. Don’t waste your time on anything else.”—Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar (via candor-thoughts)
Reblogging this in nonromantic context of “choosing” one’s friends
no, I’m not saying I’m a fan of Australian metal rock music, though I’ve never given it a fair shot to say I couldn’t be
Regarding my actual name, it’s a pair of clues (~oooh, ahhh~):
Sydney = “like Australia” (how I often introduce myself when people always — always — hear “Cindy” (or some outlandish sci-fi sounding moniker they just happen to assume, in a split second in their mind, is a normal blond chick name))
Metal = Zink. Zn. Zinc. Periodic table and stuff. That whole category of metals, Zinc being one. Get it? I was never good at chemistry. I don’t read the vitamin labels. Maybe it’s not a metal. Maybe I’ve been wrong all this time, just sounding like a smart-aleck prancing around this name. I don’t know. Talk about an identity crisis. (I have “ZN” on the back of a sports sweatshirt my team made for me in high school, but my dad told me yesterday that the sweatshirt just looks like my first name starts with Z and last name starts with N. ~has identity crisis caused by periodic table of elements~)
I don’t really know how the adding people thing words on Steam since I have a grand total of zero Steam friends listed, but in case it’s relevant, my profile name, not my registered name, is Full Metal Racket. Hey. HEY. Don’t make fun of it.
Steam being a lil’ punk about my friendlessness (though Dead Trigger 2 (Android tablet) is the real sassmaster):
emojli is even worse!!! “You have no friends.” Very first thing I see signing up. THANKS, EMOJLI, STOP RUBBING IT IN
This year in college, I’m not going to wear uncomfortable outfits and crap makeup to go to overwhelming parties with boys I don’t like. I’m going to wear my favorite clothes around boys I do like to do genuinely fun things and talk about cool stuff. College parties are the worst. Party outfits are even more so the worst. Being in the wrong crowd is THE WORST.