True "Therapy," in a Nutshell

A fellow blogger shared one of the most interesting videos with her readers today, and I remember watching it years ago. If you are not familiar with the UK T.V. show Skins, then watch this video of one of the main characters of the show, entitled "Cassie's Video Diary." It's brilliantly mental. Also, many many thanks to Melee [I love that name] over at The Midnight Train of Thought for leading--essentially, tagging-- me to this eccentric little post. She is one of the most inspirational and eloquent writers I have encountered on the Internet, so it would be wonderful if you would please pay her a visit. Also, feel free to create your own post.


The trick here is to fill in the words that are not in italics with your own preferences, loves, and hates. The script goes a little something like this...


[If you are reading this, then I am already dead.
Wow, just joking! So, this is my Therapy Post.]

- - -

Abracadabra, wow! 

I like boys with dimples and distinguishable laughs and girls who have the audacity to speak their mind.
I like red velvet cupcakes and crème brûlée.
I like singing to myself (loudly) in the shower.
I like the amazing feeling, almost of electric sparks, that one encounters while being kissed on the neck.
I like knit stockings and old jukeboxes.
I like gifting others, and the feeling that comes with it.
I like eating at diners, the home-like feel welcomes me more than anything in the world.
I like the idea that in due time, I will be legally able to backpack across Europe.
I like sitting on my roof, staring into the depths of the twinkling stars.
I like that smiling is the same for every language on planet Earth.
I like large, vintage eyeglasses that can barely rest on my nose.
I like how even the slightest whiff of a past perfume can revoke old memories.
I love the smell of rain on the concrete sidewalk.
Today I imagined a better, more futuristic me.

- - -

In some ways, I love everything.

It's less, it's less of a thing to like, it's less distinct, it's less particular

I like things that I like but I love everything

There’s more choice in like

'Cos even the worst things have things you love in them

I don’t know what you mean about things I hate.

- - -

I hate the feeling of not knowing what others feel about me, at times.
I hate the still, dark depths of night, when one lies helplessly in bed, afraid of the lurking shadows.
I hate the rude sound of rap music.
I hate the hairline one must cross to anger me, and the way I react each and every time.
I hate gazing into the night sky and seeing only clouds of pollution and smoke.
I hate sarcasm in the wrong situation, and superficiality.
I hate individuals who come and go as they please, with not so much as a care for anyone but themselves.
I hate it when you yearn to say something that must be said, but cannot find the words, or dignity, to say it.

I hate this, wow. . .
Sorry.