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avatar for Cindy Hernandez

Cindy Hernandez

Santa Cruz, California
I see the good in people until they prove me wrong . . . whatever that makes me . . . I suppose that's just what I am . . .

"Do you believe in love?" asked Reiter.
"Frankly no," said the girl.
"What about honesty?" asked Reiter.
"Ugh, that's worse than love," said the girl.
"Do you believe in sunsets," asked Reiter, "starry nights, bright mornings?"
"No, no, no," said the girl with a gesture of evident distaste, "I don't believe in anything ridiculous."
"You're right," said Reiter. "what about books?"
"Even worse," said the girl...
"As far as I can tell, you don't have much idea about anything, Hans," said the girl, "except kissing me."
"True," said Riter, who was always ready to admit his ignorance.

By then they were strolling through the park holding hands and every so often Ineborg would stop and kiss Reiter on the mouth. . .

Im completely sane with nuances of insanity!

“I'm selfish, impatient & a little insecure. I make mistakes, I am out of control & at times hard to handle. But if you can't handle me at my worst, then you sure as hell don't deserve me at my best.”

― Marilyn Monroe

TRUE LOVE means never having to set a SAFEWORD....

Jesus was an Anthropologist. You should be one too!!

✩✩The friendship that can cease has never been real✩✩

==== one dirty girl scout at a time, i plan to change the world into a friendlier place ====

Ode On A Grecian Urn

Thou still unravish'd bride of quietness,
Thou foster-child of Silence and slow Time,
Sylvan historian, who canst thus express
A flowery tale more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed legend haunts about thy shape 5
Of deities or mortals, or of both,
In Tempe or the dales of Arcady?
What men or gods are these? What maidens loth?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What pipes and timbrels? What wild ecstasy? 10

Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave 15
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold Lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal—yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
For ever wilt thou love, and she be fair! 20

Ah, happy, happy boughs! that cannot shed
Your leaves, nor ever bid the Spring adieu;
And, happy melodist, unwearièd,
For ever piping songs for ever new;
More happy love! more happy, happy love! 25
For ever warm and still to be enjoy'd,
For ever panting, and for ever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
That leaves a heart high-sorrowful and cloy'd,
A burning forehead, and a parching tongue. 30

Who are these coming to the sacrifice?
To what green altar, O mysterious priest,
Lead'st thou that heifer lowing at the skies,
And all her silken flanks with garlands drest?
What little town by river or sea-shore, 35
Or mountain-built with peaceful citadel,
Is emptied of its folk, this pious morn?
And, little town, thy streets for evermore
Will silent be; and not a soul, to tell
Why thou art desolate, can e'er return. 40

O Attic shape! fair attitude! with brede
Of marble men and maidens overwrought,
With forest branches and the trodden weed;
Thou, silent form! dost tease
Thursday, July 20

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Friday, July 21

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Saturday, July 22

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Sunday, July 23

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