Saturday, November 5, 2016

Tuesday, August 9, 2016


I’ve seen a lot of mixed reviews on this product, staggering from “I love this mascara!” to “This is the worst thing ever” But since mine is the only opinion that matters, let me tell you what I thought about Benefit’s They’re Real mascara. My first thought; plastic bristle brush with a little rounded top on the end…weird, but not bad. I usually prefer hourglass wands however for the sake of beautiful lashes I’m willing to try anything once. And thank heavens I did. This mascara is wonderful. The formula and wand combo coats lashes while lifting and separating them. The wand has a tiny spiked tip that finds lashes you didn’t even know you had. However, here's a tip, the spike can sometimes grab too much mascara, so be a good girl and due diligence to wipe the tip back against the tube, K!?
My lashes were so long while still natural looking, and zero clumps! BLESS! My only reservation was that it doesn’t come in waterproof, and I usually believe that if it’s not waterproof then it’s a waste of every ones time and money. I am wrong. Although it isn’t WP, it says it lasts for up to 12 hours without smudging or coming off and it’s true. I revoke my love for solely waterproof mascaras to something more like this 12-hour wear one. It gives you the freedom to play around all day long with flirty eyelashes, but doesn’t give you a battle by the end when you’re ready to wipe it off. Overall, I’m surprised that some girls are not completely head over heels for this, because I am. I liked that it holds a curl all day, and I like that I can see the length of my own lashes through my very own pupils. I also especially like the privilege to be cheeky when people ask, “Are those your lashes?” and I say, “Oh They’re Real!”  

Thursday, June 16, 2016

Three Weeks to Live

The 27 club; appealing, dangerous, selfish and iconic. Would you want to live past 27?
Because the way I see it, the older I get, the more I understand why people throw themselves off buildings, smoke their lungs black, and drink all night. I (ignorantly) find 27 to be the perfect age to leave enough of an impression on the people you love, while simultaneously being the age where you basically understand the gist of life, and therefor are ready to call it quits and move on.
In less than a few weeks I will be out of the 27 club-maybe. I'm the first to admit that I am not opposed to the idea of living fast and dying young. I know that may make some people cringe, and may make a few people even sad (Ray+Ak). But it's the way I see it. We tiptoe ever so carefully through life, only to safely and ultimately arrive at death. I can't justify being delicate and poised anymore. I want what's bad for me, I want the fun, the late nights, the boozy mornings. This I say, until I get bored and sick of it and wish for stability. But! We'll cross that river when the time comes.
If you've seen me lately, you can relate the puffy eyes, and raspy voice back to this post. Or when I'm trying to be polite, I blame most of my appearance on allergies. But I'm having a great time, living on whisky and moonlight. One day it'll all cease to exist for me, and when it does I'd just like to know that I lived before I died. 

Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Back To Life

It has been said that the human body replaces itself (via cells) every 7 years. If every 7 years our body has been renewed, we can think about this metaphysically and consider if whether or not we are the same person we were 7 years ago. Well essentially yes we are, but the phrase, "I'm not the same person" or "I've changed since then" is a little more literal if we take the aforementioned into consideration. I'm not an expert, I'm no scientist, I also didn't do a lot of fact-checking on this matter, but I am trying to fundamentally say that time changes people. Better yet, life changes people. Funny isn't it? Suddenly words find their way back to my mind, like a rush of blood to the head. I can't explain it, and I can't justify it. I was living under the toughest writers block known to man- but really is that a thing? Or did I just not feel compelled to constantly be an open book on the Internet? I just didn't want to write.
And now I do.
I can't promise that I want to fall under this spell again, but for now I feel born again.