Shannon Mullen Famous Quotes
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Her eyes remind me of the Pacific: Raging. Fearless. Restless.
It is not the darkness of shadows: one that follows you, haunts you, terrifies you.
Instead, it consumes you, becomes you, weighs you down.
It IS you.
It is comforting. Familiar.
I have walked with it. Eaten with it. Loved with it. Smiled with it.
Yet I feel it destroying me.
Like cancer.
But I can't remove it. It stays inside of me, taunting me to kill it, myself, but it does not realize that this seduction keeps me alive.
Somehow I find the energy to continue the run. Part of the high that comes after finishing a long run is overcoming the wall, that point when your body crashes but your mind keeps moving you forward.
Perhaps love in the digital age is more like Netflix binge-watching: we enjoy bursts of fantasy, and then move on to something else when it's done. Like browsing for a new series on Netflix, if the relationship doesn't fit perfectly, you can trade it in for something new with the click of a button or a swipe on your phone.
I guess love distorts our perception of reality, and it's even harder to recognize the truth when it's buried underneath layers of what we imagine relationships should be like.
Suddenly, I'm lighter, only half of who I was.
How can any of us even know what to believe anymore? Our culture's full of so much phoniness and deception. Companies advertise products to make us believe that we will be more beautiful, more healthy, or live longer by consuming their products. We are seduced by lovers who feed their porn addictions when we're asleep. We're taught to believe that if we work hard and take risks, that we can achieve our dreams, yet youth unemployment is the highest it's been in decades. Fairytales tell us that true love exists, but half of all marriages end in divorce.
He nods, looking through the pictures on the screen on the back of his camera. Some relationships can only exist as memories. But unlike ephemeral digital images that can be sorted and deleted, we can't erase the past. We have to learn to live with all the images that are stored in love's archive, memories tagged good and bad. No Photoshopping. Accept the negative before moving forward.
The idea to go West just fell into my lap from the sky. Go west, young man. That's how the best ideas happen. Just out of nowhere. When you're not even thinking. Like they've been created for you and you just have to reach out and grab them before someone else does.
A bus drives past and I'm nauseated by a whiff of exhaust. Then rotting fish. The rancid stench of sewage. Is it garbage day? I'm trapped in the pungent fog, in the dreary suburban-style shops, the rat race of city life. The city, even on the west coast, has the power to beat us down, to suck us of passion, to crush our dreams.
I guess all the time I spend on social media has made me believe that love exists above the surface, that it's supposed to be light all of the time.
The west coast is a mecca for wild hearts, wild minds, wild spirits and I'm a WMD - I've got so much energy I'm about to explode.
In a way, we're all addicts by nature.
My mind feels like a race car on the track, getting faster and faster every time I pause to think or blink or try to focus on anything. Nothing can keep up to it, not the other cars, not my body, not anyone else in the bar. It's a rush, pure exhilaration, and I'm having the time of my life. But instead of driving, I'm in the passenger seat, along for the ride, watching myself race around the track from my barstool.
Maybe the truth doesn't exist if you look the other way.
Maybe love's more than the daily comforts: more than morning coffees and flowers and notes in my lunch bag and holding hands while watching the stars. It's about never giving up, believing in each other, and supporting each other through the good and the bad.
That's what mountains do, they taunt you, lure you to the freedom of the wilderness, and it is fucking exhilarating.
Sometimes our heroes let us down.
Even the tiniest of flowers can have the toughest roots.
It's hopeless, trying to recruit a stranger to help me find someone who's a stranger to him. But then again, we are all strangers to ourselves, caught up in the monotony of daily life, stuck in our routines, never really stopping to think about what will happen to us if we fall off track.
Sometimes you have to fight for the past and sometimes you have to let go.
Due to their short bloom time, Sakura blossoms are a metaphor for life itself: beautiful yet fleeting. You'll realize when you're as old as me to hang on to the good times because they won't last forever.
We're lost in each other, in the heart of Toronto, slow dancing to nothing but the beat of my heart and the sound of her breath on my neck. I know the subway trains are trembling beneath my feet and that we're amidst the constant buzz of city life, yet I hear nothing but my heart beating and feel nothing but her breath on my neck.
Can I Tinder swipe for cat cuddles?
As I accept the flowers, I release my grip on the balloons, and they bounce gently against the ceiling the way they did before - hovering, annoyed, frustrated, contained by the ceiling and disappointed by the limits of life.
