Graduate from Stony Brook University with English and Political Science degrees.
I like to learn. Teach me anything, and we will be friends. Languages are a special interest: I know French and Latin, a little bit of Japanese and Italian. Let's have a party and speak to each other in tongues.
I shoot with a Nikon D3000 and an older Pentax. You will usually find me with a camera wherever I go. Also, a pen and notebook for stray thoughts.
I fight fires as a volunteer. There is nothing more rewarding; I recommend everyone try it out.
I live on a barrier island called Fire Island (off of LI), and am a pretty stereotypical Islander, which I would like to call the four S living: Surfing, Smoking, Swimming, Sex(ing).
My life, how I live it, and my thinking has radically changed in the past couple of months. And I like it.
My Food Blog: thecollegefoodblog.tumblr.com
My Fashion Blog: lesbellespersonnes.tumblr.com
My Political Views
I am a right social libertarian
Right: 4.42, Libertarian: 3.74
Political Spectrum Quiz
violins I: we're the superstars fuck everyone else its all about us
violins II: why do we always get the boring parts
flutes: we're so lonely
piccolo: lol fk your ears
french horns: and im not even french hONHONHON BAGUETTE
oboes: IM SORRY I TUNED BEFORE I SWEar
violas: evERYONE ALWAYS FKUCING FRORGETS ABOUT US
trumpets: wats 'p'
trombones: wats quiet
bassoons: im so posh but i really just honk like a truck
timpani: EVERYONE LOVES ME BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM
bass clarinet: lol where am i
tuba: *waits for a wagner piece to do something exciting*
harp: im just a more sophisticated piano
piano: FUCK YOU HARP I GET CONCERTOS WRITTEN FOR ME SCREW EVERYTHING WHO NEEDS AN ORCHESTRA WHEN YOU CAN PLAY EVERYTHING ON ME IM THE STAR OF EVERYTIHNG
english horn: im literally only useful for dvorak's 9th like what am even i doing here
basses: semibreves, tied to a semibreve, tied to a minim, tied to a crotchet, oh wait a quaver wow exciting ok back to semibreves
cornets: trumpet wannabe
cymbals: BOOM CRASH CRASH CRASH CRASH IM SRO HAPYP CRASH CRAHS
xylophones: am i meant to be here?
bass drum: MY TIME TO SHINE FUCK YOU ALL
I saw this gem on Reddit tonight. It was posted under a topic of “What ‘little’ things you can do to improve your relationship with your significant other.” I’m definitely taking this piece of advice with me into my next relationship. (via blakebaggott) added note: this is useful in ALL relationships, not just romantic ones! (via edrecoveryprobs)
It has never been easy. When I was sixteen, I knew every potentially fatal thing in my house: Nail polish remover under the sink. Bottle of rubbing alcohol beside it. Hammer in the tool box. Forty foot bridge across the highway. Traffic outside my window.
I thought about slamming my own head against a counter until I lost feeling. I thought about punching myself in the face until I stopped breathing. I thought about running out into the street at two a.m. and waiting until a car came.
I never thought I’d make it to twenty-five. But I told myself to stay. Just for a little longer. Just to see.
So I did. I sat silent amongst my friends, searching for a way to speak. I stopped leaving my house. I swapped sleeping for staying up all night, staring at my bedroom walls. When someone came into my room to talk to me, I started crying. But I stayed. Because I thought, if I plan on dying in a few years anyway, what do I have to lose? And some days I didn’t feel like I was being swallowed whole. Some days I sat by my pool and sang until the sun set. Some days I kissed somebody on their parent’s couch and didn’t feel lonely when I got to my own bed. Some days I listened to a really great song and felt understood, if only for a second.
I stayed. And still I thought about bridges. And hammers to the head. And swallowing acetone to cleanse my insides. But slowly slowly slowly I began to understand that it was okay to cry, and shake, and feel anything but okay. I realized that there would still be days that my fist would rise to my cheek. And still, my face would sometimes resemble a bruised peach.
But now I tear up my lists of potentially ways to die before I complete them. I replace prescription: pills, rubbing alcohol, and razors with memories of the good days. Of holding your hand through the entire state of Oregon. Of running half-naked down a snowy street three New Year’s ago. Of riding go-carts in the Canadian wilderness. Of smoking cigarettes on the beach in San Francisco with someone I met six months ago. If I had left, we would not know each other.
If you feel the same way, stay. For the good days. And the sunsets. And the people out there who understand. Stay because being submerged in black water does not mean you have to drown. Stay. Just for a little longer. Just to see.
Stay | Lora Mathis
Erase the stigma behind mental illness. Being alive isn’t easy. We all have to help each other out. Losing Robin Williams to depression was a tragedy. Reach out to those around you and always offer help.