The Start Of A Moment.

Our pasts won’t be right now because
right now is us and right now is perfect.

It’s the start of a good thing, the start of a love song, the start of a moment meant to last. Because after tonight the stars will dance a little different, and the waves will kiss a little softer and the sun will beam a little brighter. We’ll share yesterday’s that will change our tomorrow’s. We’ll tell secrets we can’t take back, make memories we can’t forget. Our pasts will be that time, or I remember when. They won’t be right now because right now is us and right now is perfect.

Blog Updates.

Please bare with the look of Young & Twenty!
A new year approaching means a new image is needed.

There are great things planned.

As well, add Young & Twenty to 


And, please visit my project on GoFundMe to find out how to be apart of Young & Twenty! 

Screen Shot 2014-12-15 at 12.22.25 AMI would love to hear how everyone else is! Please use the comments to tell me about the projects you’re working on, your goals for 2015 or just how you’re doing today! 

No Survivors.

Don’t settle for a life, confined within your worries.

We’re enslaved to the things we can’t control, that’s life. Our faults are the things we can change, and don’t. We go through life with such slow precaution in fear of losing what we have, despite not knowing what it is. Life takes prisoners but leaves no survivors so don’t settle for a life, confined within your worries. Don’t sacrifice control of your future for security in right now.

A Gloomy Day.

Not enough people appreciate the beauty in a gloomy day. The sky teases us for hours with raindrops and distant thunder. It’s a day of suspense, a beautiful build up. We carry on, living our lives beneath a chaotic mess and we live knowing the end is worth waiting for.

The darkest days have the quietest air, letting a person’s true self be revealed for there’s no better test then how someone weathers the storm.

Thunderstorms aren’t sadness just like happiness isn’t the sun. Just like people who leave the clouds in the hands of the sky see a different allure then those who hold the clouds on a string.


I am so excited to announce that I have received my first GoFundMe donation. It’s inspiring to know that strangers can put such hope in others!

In celebration, I have created the Contributors page. This is the smallest way I can say thank you to those who have supported my project, Young & Twenty.

Screen Shot 2014-12-15 at 10.21.59 PM

Thank you to the (unfortunately) anonymous donor!

Please visit my project, HERE .

Dreaming of Perfection.

Don’t skip dinner with friends or pass on a tall glass of wine. Don’t stand in front of the candles on your Birthday cake, wishing for them to be gone and don’t count down the days to Thanksgiving like you count down the calories until you’re ‘full’. Don’t let the seconds in your day, waste away like the numbers on your scale.

I would love my faults if I believed you ever could but for as long as you hold my hand loose and let your eyes stray, I will understand beauty to be what they want. I will stand in front of the mirror and suck in my stomach. I will flip celebrity magazines and dream of perfection. I will wake up early to hide the things I hate and I will wrestle with myself, when I can’t be enough.

I will look at the floor when he tells me my smile’s pretty. I will argue non-stop when he says I’m perfection. I will run the other way when he grabs for my hand because I’ll remember to you, I wasn’t enough. 

I will reject the idea of love until I find someone to teach me that life isn’t about how you look. It’s about the person looking at you.

People Who’ve Seen the Dark.

We should all be so luck to find someone who’s seen the dark, for those people know how to shine light when we need it ourselves.

We should all be so lucky to find someone whose seen the dark for those people know how to shine light when we need it ourselves. But sometimes the people who’ve seen the dark, choose to leave their problems there.

Sometimes we’re scared of hugging, in fear of them holding too tight. Sometimes we’re scared to pick someone up, in fear of them pulling us down. Sometimes we’re scared to save someone’s life, in fear we’ll forfeit our own. And sometimes we’re scared to share the lessons we learned, in fear of retracing our path.

Don’t Say Anything.

Don’t say, “still”? Don’t say, “I thought you got over that”. Don’t say anything if you can’t understand the way pain lingers.

We hate when people assume things just pass. If you see me in a month, I  might still be confused. If you see me in a year, I  might still be insecure. If you see me when I’m smiling, I might still be in pain.

Don’t say, “still”? Don’t say, “I thought you got over that”. Don’t say anything if you can’t understand the way pain lingers.

It could be so simple if we had the same thoughts, same fears, same goals. It would be so simple to understand the walls people build, the laughs that are true and the tears that they drown in.

So we have to remember that despite tomorrow’s promise for a better day, we can’t just shut off the pain that we felt today.

Imperfection Is Perfect.

Perfection is imperfection and imperfection is perfect.

Of course we want perfection. We want the best picture, best job, best hair.

But perfection is when you see his crooked teeth beyond the gap of his smile. It’s the scar on your arm from where you fell out of a tree at age eight. The way you hold your fork the wrong way and the phobia you’ve hid for so long. It’s the way your moms voice echoes through the house and your family bickers on Christmas morning.  It’s the times someone stutters amongst excitement and the times you fall asleep, mid-sentence, on the phone. It’s the way you snore in your sleep, as you dream of perfection. But what society won’t tell you, is that perfection is imperfection and imperfection is perfect.


They Don’t Understand.

Don’t get it wrong, they care – but they don’t understand.

They don’t understand. They don’t understand why you’ve collapsed on the side of the road, sobbing hysterically into your hands. They don’t understand why their messages sit in your inbox, unacknowledged for days. They don’t understand why your mind wanders to dark places, despite their constant pleas to cheer up.

Don’t get it wrong, they care – but they don’t understand.

They don’t understand how you’ve lost respect for life, how you can’t find anything to live for. You hold onto the familiar, aching to relive the simpler days. They don’t understand how you’ve stopped dreaming. You’ve stopped embracing the warmth of fresh laundry. You’ve stopped savoring the last sip of your morning tea. You’ve stopped smiling at the innocent, young faces you see on the street. You’ve stopped living.