GENIUS OUTSIDE THE CITY: FLOYD DOBSON

GOOD gets REAL

Once a Good girl goes bad.... REal....
She's gone LIVES forever....

faccades diminish......
and Good becomes Real
Maybe Leaving Good doesn't always mean becoming Bad

UnEXplainable ME

I have yet to attain the ability to adequately describe myself in words
.....anyone with this ability is either miserably simple or has stopped evolving...
i hope for neither of these to happen to me.

Bloomington: SHOW ME A GOOD... STylE

I spent majority of my college career constantly daydreaming about the Big Apple, hoping to take a bite of the fashion, culture, and stories I adore:

BUTTTT..... Dreams, Thoughts, Culture, Style & Fashion are surrounding us, outside NY borders:

This blog is dedicated to every New Yorker at heart: rather Bloomington, Chicago, DC, Atlanta, LA, or a small county in Wisconsin. 

NY may be the US fashion captial, but Style, Dreams, Culture, & Fashion transcends pass city limits and is embraced in every state: 

BLOOMINGTON, Show Me A Good Style: 

Ink My Soul

inked on her skin
reflects her soul

EasilyIntrigued, Rarely Satisfied

...after the night is finished
after we release our skeletons,
lay our fears and hopes between the pillows

...after she shares bits of her soul

...........i must apologize for leading her on...........

FUll OF PRomise

"I was an astronaut who was going to fly so highs, so far beyond the moon, so far beyond the whole wide world.

But then I never had to worry about a crash landing because I never even took off"

Prozac Nation, Elizabeth Wurtzel

LiFE StoRiEs

Beautiful stories... Every life, eloquently written, is worth reading.
~myself~




I find myself analysizing every move, every finger that taps against the table, or eye roll buried in irritation. There is rarely a time that I am not occupied analyzing the thoughts and ideas that lurk in people's mind. Sometimes I think that I have recieved a gift to read people's unspoken thoughts...these thoughts that are meticulously embedded in their gestures.Ridiculous I know...

Yet, the most ridiculous aspect of this idea is that... I really believe that I can read each person. When people tell their childhood stories, longing wishes for success, sometimes if you look closely, deeper than the sarcastic remarks and courteous "laughs" to lighten up the serious mood, there "it" lies.

The "it" that I am referring to is "the person" in their uncensored, unprotected, and completely vulnerable state. In each moment they are giving you pieces of their soul, but only if you accept....

....an invitation to illustrate who they are to themselves.

Each of these stories, these moments in time, are worthy of their own book, are movie premiers in the making....

these moments most of all are.....unnoticed. The invitation is rarely recieved....& i stand there acting oblivious to it all.

bittersweet.

removal of the mask

I once held dear to my mask. We so often hear tales of the wolf conquering the sheep. So much so that these vulnerabilities, as beautiful as they are, become hidden, camouflaged. The cowering sheep clutches to the mask of a wolf.

I watch as my friend becomes ... a mere sheep in wolves clothing, hiding behind the mask...covering her insecurities, but she's worn the mask so long, that the mask has become her....

so i whisper to her ...darling you are more beautiful than your mask could ever attempt to become.

O how i love to watch her smile, and her mask fall.