Tell Them//Write//Spread the Word for a Better World

Tell those people who get offended over every little comment that if they truly want an equal world, it’s a world where everyone can laugh at slightly racist or other -ist remarks and move on. Those remarks don’t make you a horrible racist or sexist person. It means you can see the stereotypes and look past them – you can even make jokes about them because you know they aren’t true. I vouch for a future where can say these things and people will laugh at them and still know that we all love, accept, and are kind to the people we say them about.

Note: I’m not talking about the horrible things people sometimes say about groups of people, but the lighter things that can be funny.

Take old(er) movies. My example: Rush Hour (and Rush Hour 2 and 3). They’re hilarious movies starring Jackie Chan and Chris Tucker that I definitely recommend, especially if you need to laugh for the next one and something hours. They are peppered with stereotypes and other such jokes but they’re funny. Things like this can be funny as long as you know they’re not true and see the people behind them.

Political correctness is a load of bullshit. If you limit what I can say because one person may be offended by it, if I say something people will accuse me of being a racist and other -ists, ย where did my freedom of speech. So, no, I’m not going to be politically correct, and if you don’t like it, or a few little … annoying people want to be offended and bitch about it, good for you.

And white people get the worst of it sometimes, because we may say one small thing like I described, and we are automatically racist.

But all I can do is be kind to all people and being able to laugh with them. And hope people see me as an example to do the same. And that people will do the same to/for/with me.

And it starts with being able to laugh at yourself. I spout jokes that degrade white people in general but also myself all the time, but I can laugh about it, and so can my friends. So please don’t call me racist, because I’m trying to help solve/eradicate the problem of discrimination with something we all enjoy – laughter.

Join me if you think I’m not totally crazy.

My pledge: I’m white, female, and straight, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. There are people all over the world who are different from me who I want to meet and whose perspective I want to know about. Those differences don’t make a change how I will treat all these people – with the basic kindness they deserve, so that I can set an example for my generation and the generations that will follow us. I can connect all these people, with our differences, with our similarities, with the thing we hate and the things we enjoy, the things that make us scared and the things that make us bolder. I can connect them with laughter and love. That is what I strive for, with the best of my abilities.

Write your own pledge if you believe in a better word. Post your pledge. Repost this if you agree, repost this and add commentary and improvements. Spread the word.

 

We can do great things together. With our differences. With our strengths and our weaknesses. With our love.

Spread the word.

Ivy

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Caged In Life/Love/Honestly What The Fuck Is Life?

Today I realized how routine my future will be and how trapped I’ll feel.

 

I just want to drive away, climb to the top of the hardest trail I can find, and stay there forever.

 

I want to be sixteen.

 

I want a car.

 

I wantย out.

 

And maybe – when I’ve gotten my shit together – someone to share out with.

Image result for wisdom tree hike

(Wisdom Tree, LA, on my bucket list)

Someone to sit under the one tree at the top of the trail with and make me feel like I have a reason to be here – that I am worth more than I will ever think I am. Someone who will tell me it’s the feelings not the thoughts that count. A fellow music addict, possibly insane person, hiker, exerciser, deep thinker, meaningful conversation-haver, pervert, love obsessionaire, etc., etc. Someone who by being in my life will make me a better person.

Someone once told me that love isn’t just a feeling, but a decision. Which made sense, but I didn’t agree. We can’t choose who we fall in love with/feel love for, but we can decide whether they are worthy. Not the snooty kind of worth – no – someone who will treat you the way you deserve, reign you in when you’re being a shitty person, and somehow know when you need to be alone, when you need silent arms around you, when you need a kiss to brighten your day. And maybe once in a while but you flowers and chocolate (or if you’re me blindfold you and drive you somewhere beautiful). Who won’t be worried about being sexist or about not hitting a girl when you need to wrestle someone around. (What? We’ve already established that I’m weird).

You may not be perfect, but somehow you make each other better. That’s love.

Sorry. Somehow everything I write winds back up at love.

My life feels like a cage right now. And in that cage there’s a noose. It started as a big loop around the entire thing, but it’s tightening tighter around my neck. And heart.

The normal resting heart rate of a human being is 60-100 beats per minute. I had a day (a particularly stressful one) last week where I was sitting there at my desk watching a video or something and my heart rate was 123 bpm. (Perks of an Apple Watch you can measure your heart rate). That’s not healthy. It’s a noose.

Sorry. What am I even apologizing for? I don’t know Ivy stop doing this you know people look at you funny when you talk to yourself.

I just had one of those moments where I had to pause my music and then turned on again and was like: whoa who turned this shit up so loud??? Then: Oh. I did.

 

I’m going to sign off now. Another kinda shitty post. Oh well. Thanks for reading if you’ve gotten this far. Congratulations – you’ve crossed the finish line.

-(Caged) Ivy

Save Me

Inspired by the above picture

 

It’s not me

It is but one

Of the many intricate layers

Of the masks I wear

 

The blood

The sweat

The tears

Are all practiced

Image result for ember watercolor

So if you think you’ve found me

Keep digging

Please save me

From the person everyone around me has carved

Image result for ember watercolor

The truth hidden deep beneath

The real me is so exhausted

I cannot break through without you

Related image

i just want out

Related image

want my mask to burn

download

Let them judge me –

They’ll hear my laughter from miles away.

 

~different and proud

 

Also haha when you say you’re 99% you’ll have something posted but the 1% comes true….

๐Ÿ˜…๐Ÿ˜„๐Ÿ˜…

Ember

What if I’m not a spark

But a ย  d y i n g ย  ember

Among the ashes

Soon to join them?

Image result for dying ember

I’m 99% sure the next part of Citizen Four will be up tomorrow. That one percent involves me falling asleep the second I get home (which seems likely at the moment). I’m waiting on a little betareading. (I love you, chan. I hope you had fun today. I know you had more fun than me. I hope you like the next part). I’m excited!

-Ivy

Quote of the Day

You are beautiful โ€” so incredibly beautiful that you evoke the jealousy of the stars in the desert on a moonless night and the setting sun over the Pacific. They covet the radiant glow of your heart and the gentle warmth of your smile. You cannot hide the innocence and purity emitted from the essence of your nature, nor the joy and life that follows you wherever you go. Never before have I beheld a creature of such grace and magnificence, for truly there is no viable comparison.

-lettersillneversend.com

You are all beautiful. No matter how much you believe otherwise. What you lack, someone else will always have more of. But think of all the things others lack that you have an abundance of. You are beautiful. Smile. Take the joy from inside of you and let it shine through in you eyes. That’s beauty.

Perfection isn’t beauty. Perfection isn’t real, no matter how much the industry promotes and how much it has ingrained itself into our heads. Perfection only exists on glossy magazine pages, and that’s not real.

Beauty isn’t about smooth, blemish-free skin or having big curves. Beauty is about being able to love yourself despite your blemishes. Beauty is accepting those blemishes and cherishing them. Beauty isn’t about covering yourself up, it is screaming “I’m not perfect, world! And I like it that way! Deal with it.”

The makeup industry is a lie. If anything at all, makeup should be used to highlight the features you already have, not make a mask over the person beneath it. It’s hard to believe they make so much money off of us.

Don’t let the world – or anyone – tell you that you aren’t beautiful. Tell them that you’re glad to be there to make up for their lack of kindness. No matter what, you are beautiful. And beauty comes in a million forms.

Love,

Ivy

It Hits Writers Harder

Before I start: The countdown to tennis on Thursday begins! ๐Ÿ˜‰

Today’s Quote:

We think whether male of female we are created in Gods image and regardless of gender we all need and want to be treated with respect and dignity and love. Keep writing those letters to that man because one day God will answer those letters and bring that special man.

USAThroughOurEyes

You guys honestly deserve a shoutout – you are some of the nicest people I know here on WordPress. Somehow you always find the time to write me the loveliest things! Sometimes they’re the nicest thing I hear/read all day. I really can’t thank you enough – know that I mean it each and every time! Check them out – they’re great people!

Also, I’m really mad right now because there is not a single Citizen Four quote or piece of merchandise on the internet. Somebody needs to get their lives right, because if I made merch it would look awful. Anyone artistic want to make me a Citizen Four t-shirt? With the Cold single cover, not the Testify one. Okay. You don’t know what I’m talking about, but I will make a huge music post, this weekend hopefully. Pay no attention to my overreactions.

Also, I have two interviews coming up, one for an early college and one for a middle college, and I’m nervous even though my teacher did a mock interview with me. *Starts sweating and laughing nervously* – me at interview

—And We Begin—

I mean, this all might just be me, but it seems love hits writers harder. Or maybe it’s just me. I said that already. But, seriously, I’ve only met one other person like me.

My body may be thirteen

But my mind most certainly isn’t

Sometimes I miss my innocence

But deep issues are more interesting than the superficial ones.

I don’t know when exactly I became this way. When I stopped caring about the people at school who if I really tried could maybe seem “cool” in their eyes. When I stopped caring if people thought I was antisocial (that is a more recent one). When I realized popularity was so damn stupid. When I became a deep person.

I have to stop and thank Evie for inspiring me to write. I love writing now and it’s all thanks to you for introducing it to me. I don’t know what I’d do without writing and it’s all because of you.

Deepness and people like me: the poem explained me but I want to elaborate. Thirteen-year-olds aren’t supposed to be like this. I’m not saying it’s a bad way to be, it’s just hard to find people who understand because few people my age are this way.

Thirteen-year-olds aren’t supposed to be cooped up inside writing, they should be outside running around. 13-yro’s ย aren’t supposed to write love scenes and imagine them and think of how two people will fall in love and how it will play out. We’re not supposed to write about kissing or even sex. We shouldn’t – we have no experience! (At least I don’t. And I don’t think anyone should at this age. At least wait until high school). I shouldn’t have such dirty-minded thoughts. (Oops). But at the same time, I’m glad for it. And I don’t care what anyone thinks.

So, to make my point, love hits writers harder. I’ve started thinking (more like obsessing) about it since 13. And you get all these expectations about how your first kiss and meeting someone you really like for the first time and they’ll probably get ruined. I know mine will. My mind over-perfects everything and I know for sure it won’t be like that.

There won’t be a guy who knows exactly how to say. There probably won’t be a guy whose voice does things to you (cough Citizen Four cough cough sorry I’ll stop advertising at some point) or who looks like a perfect 10/10 (who came up with that anyway? It’s stupid). There probably won’t be a toned guy who looks amazing with his shirt on or off (Nope you can’t judge me. Yes I am a shallow person sometimes).

And everyone’s like if you are yourself you’ll find that someone because they’ll love you for you. My response: I hardly know how to be me. Who is Ivy? Who the hell am I? (Again a thought 13-yro’s don’t have:/ ) I don’t know how to be me.

High school is supposed to be when you find yourself, but the way it looks I’ll be working my ass off too much to figure that out.

Okay. I’m gonna go do my homework. Conclusion time.

How do I be me? What do I do with these thoughts? Is there another option besides waiting for life to go on and until I’m “allowed” to have these thoughts? Was anyone else like this at 13? Are you getting anything out of these long-ass posts that I’ll probably look back at in twenty years and be like: “She thought her life was hard” “I was so melodramatic” “God, I was a weird teenager” ?

Ivy is currently listening to: I Don’t Wanna Live Forever by ZAYN and Taylor Swift, which just ended and Car Radio by Twenty One Pilots came on

Keep writing those letters to that man (or woman),

Ivy

Dear man,

Maybe I’ll remember all this and show it to you. Maybe I’ll still be writing it every day. Maybe I’m sitting in your lap writing right now. If I’m not, take a hint. Maybe you’ve soothed my fears of being a blah adult. Maybe you weren’t the first to kiss me, but you’ll be the last.

I hope you treat me well, and I hope I treat you well. I hope you don’t mind when I blast music too loud or don’t eat enough because I’m writing. I hope you don’t mind all the weird shit I do.

I hope we love each other enough for the rest of our lives. And no matter how old I am, I hope these hopes (even when they’re not just hopes anymore) remain true.

Love,

Ivy

“Women desire to be pursued.” {Ivy’s Retreat #1}

If this seems out of order or weirdly cut off it’s because I wanted to end with the positive.

The only thing I didn’t like was the part where she said “Men are made from dirt. They are called to work that earth and get food out of it. They are called to provide – to go out and get things and bring them back home. To make sure their women and children and have all they need so they can have all they desire.

My response: True, true. And sometimes I do want you to provide me with things and treat me like a queen. Key word – sometimes. I can carry my own suitcase up the stairs or to the car. It’s good work for my muscles. I work out for a reason. And yes, sometimes I’ll be tired or it will be too heavy for me – and you’ll see that and get to impress me with your superior testosterone-fueled upper-body strength. Yay, you.

And I absolutely love it when you open the door for me (all those thirteen-year-old guys who have no manners I’m looking at you) but I want to do the same for you. Everything has a flip side, and I’m a picky contradictory woman, so you’ll just have to figure me out. I love you, guy in my future who I am currently apparently having a (rather one-sided) conversation with.

Sorry. Moving on.

—Okay, positivity time—

“Women desire to be pursued,” the camp counselor told us. “Men desire to pursue beauty. You are beautiful. I invite you to close your eyes and listen to this video – it’s about four minutes long.”

A man’s voice boomed through The Lodge. I could even feel it through the cold floor I was lying on. He said “You are beautiful. You are unique. That number on the scale, the amount of Twitter followers you have, those don’t change the fact that God loves you and men want to pursue you.” I can’t remember it all but was moving and (literally) shook the ground.

After it was over the counselor said “You are captivating. I’m going to say that again. You. Are. Captivating. Men are made from dirt and women are made from his rib. Men want to pursue you.”

I didn’t agree with everything she said during that session, but that was pretty amazing. That was worth sharing.

And I wonder why they don’t do these kinds of things at school (minus the religion but five times the encouragement and you are beautiful. We should have a National or International Self-Worth/Confidence Day).

Ivy is currently listening to: Now and Later by Sage the Gemini

You are captivating,

Ivy

Quote of the Day

“Sometimes I feel bad for those who partake in society. They’re so wrong about everything sometimes. It’s not about beauty, it’s about simplicity. It’s not about fame and fans and followers, it’s about being amazing at something you love doing. It’s not about dressing like trash*, it’s about wearing what makes you feel regal. It’s not about putting three gallons of expensive muck on your face every morning, it’s about highlighting the features you already have. It’s not about the amount of double-taps you get on your Instagram posts, it’s about the amount of meaningful conversations** you have with the people you care about. It’s not about the amount of people you get in bed with, it’s about the one you truly, fully open up to. That’s life. Society needs to change its mindset, and until it does, I’m proud to sit on the sidelines and shout at them how wrong they are.”

-Ivy

 

*Today’s trends bother me so much. Why are we actually trying to dress like trash? Why do our pants sag below our butts all of a sudden? I don’t know about you, but I like my bootah to be nice and supported by my pants. *bursts out laughing*

**Or even silences

There are no Citizen Four quote edits. I am shaking my head at you, internet.

Who Needs a Title?

When I feel caged I don’t feel the need for other people around me

But when I break down I need someone’s arms to cry in

 

I can talk and talk to you for hours, my friend,

But sometimes I just want to tune out the world

Maybe put down some words onto a piece of paper

 

Want a nice place to call my own

Don’t want to be bound to anything or anyone

 

Want to fall in love hard enough for it to last my lifetime

But how will he feel when I ignore him to write?

 

Just want to drive away and never come back

Just want to stay in bed at forever

 

Want to be responsible

Want to rebel and not do anything I’m supposed to – why do some get away with it but not me?

 

So. We’re back with my “interesting” life. The only interesting thing about my life are the thoughts in my head. Oh, well – better than nothing.

I have no free time – if I had like a half-hour every day I think my life would be much improved.

But a much bigger thing – not just free time but freedom.

There are so many definitions of freedom – not being chained by obligations or people or things and being able to go where you want when you want (probably the most extreme version), having enough monetary security to take off when you want to, only having to go to school, falling in love, doing whatever you want even if you don’t make a lot of money, etc. etc.

I want all these freedoms. And yet I know that that will probably never happen.

I bet my life will look a little something like this – designated driver of party, *sits in the corner at party and tries to study*, nerd, responsible, *drives the speed limit*, *makes sure friends don’t get into too much trouble*, *ends up successful*, *never has free time*.

That scares me. What also scares me is adults. You know, the ones you don’t hate, don’t really like or know, that ask you what grade you’re in and what school you go to. One of my biggest fears is becoming that.

I know I keep saying this but it irks me. So much.

The skateboarders. My favorite band – Citizen Four (I promise they’ll be a thing about this but I’m writing it I really truly am I’m actually making a true commitment to it and I’ve got Evie to keep me in check ๐Ÿ˜‰ I may have to post it in installments because it may run long but it will be finished at some point in my life. Cross my heart and hope to die). They have time to be just boys. Just people. Just have fun. Just laugh.

Especially the band – I mean they work and record and go on tour and all, but they have time to explore and just be silly boys together. And their voices are so great and honestly they look great too (I said it – and there’s nothing you could have done to stop me).

And honestly I can;t wait to get out of my house and into the world. Ideally, I’ll be a dentist and only have to work four days a week. I’ll be able to write, pursue martial arts, learn parkour (it’s SO COOL), drive straight across the country, and all the other sh*t I want to do. I will master controlling my body (I know how weird that sounds :/ ) Also, I’ll fall in love, and we’ll keep each other fit and have deep and meaningful conversations all our lives.

*Laughs evily at how f****d (I’m feeling more G rated today – not?) up her life will probably actually be*

It’s the waiting for things to happen that kills me.

Also, this summer I’m turning 14, and nothing significant happens when you’re 14. Ew.

So, I’d tell you about the retreat, but I’m still sorting it out in my own head. It was interesting and moving, to say the least. I came late because I had to take a test, so I missed most of the stuff about Catholics and premarital sex and chastity. Oops. *Cringes and laughs at the same time*

Ivy is currently listening to: End of the Summer by Alec Benjamin, (Okay I’m not listening to two songs at once but I had to advertise) the Citizen Four cover of Black Beatles (by Rae Srummurd – I think that’s how you spell it).

Anyway, Citizen Four are (is? Grammar?) amazing and you should totally give them a listen. I now dislike a lot of the original songs they cover because their voices are SO GOOD. *happy creepy double chin face* Who needs Shawn Mendes when you’ve got four angels? (don’t judge me – you’re judging me. *shrugs* I’m sorry I’ll keep talking) I still like the songs, but now I have two options of how to listen to it – example: Black Beatles – Version 1: Ghetto-ish (in a good way, I mean no offense to anyone when I say this, I need this kind of music to get through the day sometimes) that makes you feel “bad” when you sing along with the lyrics. & Version 2: angelic and amazing and makes me die inside (in a good way)

I will hopefully be posting my recently added playlist because those songs are the s**t and you should listen to them. Over and over. Until you hate them. That’s what I do!

(Can anyone sense a serious music addiction *laughs off-key*)

Ivy is currently reading: Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell. You should read it too!

Thanks for dealing with all this crazy ish over here *gestures to entire body*!

Thanks for the support, lovely comments, and follows even though all I do is ramble. I’m going to post so much over spring break you’re going to have poetry overload and be like: This is Ivy? The same Ivy who failed to post anything besides rambling for the past __ months?

At least I’m working on something to post. I won’t give up on it. I refuse. It’s going to be beautiful and weird and a total opportunity to judge the hell out of me. ๐Ÿ˜˜

Peace, love, and blaming all this craziness on the coffee I just had (I hate coffee so much I was desperate),

Ivy