02 Sep 2015 Leave a comment
25 Aug 2015 Leave a comment
18 Aug 2015 Leave a comment
17 Aug 2015 Leave a comment
There is this huge movement going on right now. It’s been brewing for a while, but now with a family member rushing into things head first and embracing many of the facets of it, it’s hard not to have some opinions brewing. This movement is not just acceptance for race, or religion, or sexuality. No, this movement is going so much further and deeper. This is more about finding a label for every little feeling, fetish, and kink you could possibly imagine. It’s one thing to be straight, or gay, or bisexual. To dress for your gender type or to cross dress. To fully commit to being the opposite gender than that you were born. To each their own.
But then there are those who have to use those other labels: agender, pansexual, girls wanting to be boys who want to be girls, those who think they were born the wrong species, and so much more, so much deeper. It’s about finding a niche for yourself, and then trying to out-weird one another. And once you’ve gotten to your optimal comfort zone of weirdness, you take it a few steps further. Then cry about the injustice of not being accepted by society, or of being ostracized by your family or friends, or by the other people around you.
In this whirlwind of labels and boxes and stereotypes and discrimination claims, I find myself asking “WHERE IS THE LINE DRAWN???” When can you say that a person simply has a mental illness and leave it at that – treatment or not. Furthermore, why does it have to be a public display?? I don’t go around saying “I’m a female, and I identify as a female, and I am into [this and that] sexually.” Who the hell cares what I’m into sexually, besides my lover? Why would I want all of that very personal, private information out there for the world to see and know? It’s all just a public cry for attention. Whether these people who make all of these claims about themselves are genuine or not, why is it necessary to put every little detail out there? Why is it necessary to find validation for everything online, or amongst other people?
And though all of this irritates me so much, the advice that still rings true is BE YOURSELF!!! And for crying out loud have some self-respect and keep private matters private. No matter what you’re into, or what’s inside, just be you. You don’t need to be validated by like-minded people. You don’t need to cry and grab attention from the haters. You don’t need to put a label on everything, or fit into anyone else’s box of characteristics. Keep the sexual stuff to yourself, to discuss and enjoy with a lover of your choosing. Just please, please, for the love of all that’s holy, keep it private!
16 Aug 2015 Leave a comment
How To Love A Hippie.
Kate RoseVia Kate Roseon Aug 5, 2015
Gianni Sarti/ Flickr
Original Post: http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/08/how-to-love-a-hippie/
To love a hippie is to take a walk into a soul’s garden and stop to smell the flowers.
It’s early morning sunshine stretching across a bed tangled with “I love you’s” and the soft gasps of dreams.
To love a hippie is to escape from the mundane into a world that is magical—seeing the joy in the moon rising above the distant sea and the beauty of lips pressed against fresh daisies.
It’s music that lifts and dips, this way and that, moving to a beat all its own. It’s bare feet and long hair tangled in your sleep, and it’s the smile you just can’t forget.
To love a hippie is to hold hands with nature while kissing the stars.
It’s moonbeams and rainbows—and just a little bit of thunder.
It’s the smell of summer rain steaming against the hot earth, and the touch of grass wet with dew upon up the toes.
To love a hippie is to decide that the rules aren’t always worth pursuing. For even on the best day, a hippie will manage to break a few.
A hippie’s love is free as the lark in the sky, and as vast as the night.
Everything and nothing at once, it’s the indescribable feeling of wanting but not needing.
It’s the taste of Elderflower liquor heavy with the smell of Ganeshas Dream hovering in the air. Bare shoulders and wild eyes that dance at the edge of reason and passion.
To love a hippie is to journey into the tempestuous unknown of this life with nothing more than a soft hand and hope.
To love a hippie is to thirst for adventure as others desire their morning coffee. It’s a love like sleek cobblestones and icy glaciers.
To love a hippie is to know that the journey will matter most—that the destination will somehow become lost between 2:00am kisses and fresh bread from the bakery. It’s homemade strawberry jam licked from expectant fingertips, and the taste of honey dust upon bare skin.
To love a hippie is to journey above the rules of relationships and far beyond the expectations of society.
It’s free love, and it’s always the best kind.
To love a hippie is to marry at sunset with the sound of the surf as the only witness. It’s a marriage of two hearts—without rings, without lace and without pretense. It exists because the universe has conspired to make it so.
To love a hippie is to journey not just into love, but into finding yourself as well. It is comfort and understanding—and patience as warm as mamma’s quilt by the fire.
To choose to love a hippie is to decide to make romantic love real. It’s a candle’s flickering glow.
It’s the beauty of love that exists simply because—just as the chicory grows along the wild riverbank—because the very best of things just are. Just as the sun rises in the morning above green-laced hilltops, and as the moon glows pearl-like over fields, the love for a hippie just is.
For a hippie loves another from the purest place in their heart; they don’t know how to love any other way.
If you’re lucky enough to be loved by a hippie, it won’t be because of anything you own or the money in your wallet. It will be because they see you for who you really are; they see the magic you create when you’re not looking.
They are the ones who love with the enthusiasm of a meteor shower in the middle of summer—for they do everything with all their hearts. They are full-throttle—passionate.
They don’t just desire your body; they want to touch your soul as well. They won’t just kiss your lips, but your fingertips too.
They don’t just want you for a night, but for as much of their future as they are willing to plan.
And while they know only the foolish make promises of forever, the truest oath they can make is this:
As long as the sun and moon still kiss the sky, they will try to love you as they did the very first day.
To love a hippie is to know that wherever life takes you, you’ve got your own bit of paradise right next to you—and she’s just waitin’ for a kiss.
Author: Kate Rose
Editor: Toby Israel