phenom.

So like no really. Lets talk about this whole crying phenom. and not phenom in the sense of phenomenal- but just phenomenon or even phenyl. cause frankly it reaks.

I mean there's always going to be the breakdown into tears, granted. Like that night that you stayed up all night writing your mmw paper but then the screen blanked and you had to ctrl+alt+delete your way out of followed by the loud roommate so you cant concentrate and you stain your favorite sweat shirt with the coffee you are drinking and then your pant pocket gets hooked on the door latch and you lent out your favorite pen and didnt get it back finally as you are scribing along with a crappy mechanical pencil you run out of led and reach for that last scoop of ice cream you had been saving just to find out your roommate's friend ate it while they were drunk and you begin to cry. you just stand there 2am in your stained sweat shirt and ripped jeans, freezer door open in the middle of the kitchen with an empty carton of cherry garcia and tears just start to stream down your face and drop to the linoleum floor. Breaking point.

But since when has my threshold decreased? I mean really. Since when have I lost the ability to reason my way out of tears and submitted to the pout? Its rather embarrassing- even just the let down- the slow down - that simple breath after a long day has brought me to tears over small frustrations that I should not logically affect me so much- do. It needs to stop. and that's just it right? Blame game is great right- "o your just stressed sweet heart"- "o its just birth control or hormones in general" but at a certain point I had to come to the realization that its not- everybody deals with stress and practically half the population is on hormones- so what it comes down to is sucking it up and getting over it. done.

At the same time sometimes when your in target with your boyfriend and you have to buy the cheap blender instead of the quality full power blender right next to it because neither of you have any money you just stop and cry right there in aisle 5 amongst the kitchen appliances.
Sometimes someone just keeps picking on you about your shoes and you want to take it lightly but it just hits your breaking point and you burst into tears and just wish they would stop picking on your god damn shoes.
I mean shoot, these are the stories of the two girls who inspire me most- and sometimes crying doesn't need to be justified. Tricky. I'd rather just not.