Meet The New Face Of Hip Hop: Miss Eaves
I had the pleasure of talking with Miss Eaves and consider it an honor and privilege to be the first on Thought Catalog to introduce ya’ll. Spoiler alert: I asked her to be my friend and she accepted.
I had the pleasure of talking with Miss Eaves and consider it an honor and privilege to be the first on Thought Catalog to introduce ya’ll. Spoiler alert: I asked her to be my friend and she accepted.
My legs kept moving but everything inside went still. I finished the lap, excused myself to the bathroom, and cried my eyes out. There it was: rejection and embarrassment before the 5th period bell even rang.
Because I never told you this. And I should have.
I had to stop calling a pair of arms that did not belong to me home. It is not easy to sleep when you are homesick for a place that was never yours.
We think if we claim to not care it somehow magically transforms us into these superhuman invincible beings. If you don’t care about something, it will be powerless to hurt you.
You are out at a bar. You make a joke about a girl. I want to throw up and I have not been drinking.
We’re so often afraid of actually working on things. We like manuals and guides. We want Google answers that will point us in the correct direction. We read lists. We make lists.
You genuinely hope the best for people and truly think it’s never too late for anyone. Except maybe Amy Winehouse.
I have prayed three times in my life, and two of them were inside a hospital. Hospitals must know so many secrets, the inner workings and hopes of desperate souls.
This is not my escapism. This is my honesty. You are the shot of whisky that turns my throat from a body part to a cathedral.