Whey Applesauce Pancakes
Mix 2 parts Vanilla Whey Protein Powder with 1 part applesauce. Add in salt to taste. Put on a pan and grill like a pancake!
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Mix 2 parts Vanilla Whey Protein Powder with 1 part applesauce. Add in salt to taste. Put on a pan and grill like a pancake!
dandelion greens sauteed in coconut oil + keifer + nutritional yeast = BEST AND HEALTHIEST MEAL EVER
I guess I didn’t sauté my fish long enough in my wine sauce….because I’m definitely feelin’ it. Woooooo.
Interviewer: If you are in the mood and you don’t have a boyfriend, what do you do?
Adele: Uhm, I just go to sleep.
Interviewer: But you have to do it!
Adele: No, you don’t have to do it.
Interviewer: But it’s good for you!
Adele: It’s good for you but you don’t have to do it … I don’t really want to talk about masturbating on TV when there’s cameras.
Interviewer: I was not talking about masturbating, I was talking about singing!
Adele: Oh my god.ADELE YOU FUCKING HERO
You may think the grass is greener on the other side. But if you take the time to water your own grass it would be just as green.
Letter to my Five Year Old Self
I don’t even know what to say, just ok cause
that’s what this is sometimes,
just ok.
And hey, little girl, little 5 year old dreamer
you naive believer
you were wrong.
It’s not all fairytales and kisses and songs -
No -
it’s a push and pull, it’s a right and wrong
cause it’s always right and it’s always wrong.
And you, boy -
Did I trick myself into thinking I belonged with you?
Could bond with you?
Hold onto you?
Grow old with you
have kids with you
to GET THROUGH?
I gave you all of me now with the hope that now would last forever
but now it’s dead-er
than when it wasn’t even born.
And I know we reincarnate and live and die together
over and over and over
but forever?
I think I know better.
Secretly, little girl, you know what’s going on,
you know that it’s always right but it’s always wrong,
you try to sing that tune, your song,
but you’re silenced and you don’t even know it.
And maybe it’s you and maybe it’s him,
your insecurities, his, and the caves that you hide in.
You’re afraid of yourself, of your beauty,
Afraid of God, of the unknown, of the power within.
Yeah, you’re not free.
You thought you’d be.
Little girl you thought he’d be the key
the prince that would worship you on bended knee
that sexy man who’d fit you perfectly.
But little girl, now that you’re grown do you even want that -
do you want to sit on a thrown?
Be a princess, inflate your ego and
be thrown
into the tiny and limited world of love?
Or do you want something more, something bigger than a soul
bigger than a human, than a prince, than that unrealistic imagined form that you twisted and ripped apart to fit the shape of your gaping, empty hole?
You’re wide open, that hole in your heart is pounding little girl,
filling itself with anything it can - you’re drowning little girl.
That hole is wide open - agape - agap - agaPAY little girl
you know it’s true.
You want that agape deep inside of you,
to thrust into you,
to bust inside you
to turn that ego into dust till there Is No You.
Yes that’s what you NEED, little girl.
Now go out and be freed, little girl.
She takes just like a woman,
She makes love just like a woman,
And she aches just like a woman,
But she breaks just like a little girl.
No one wakes up and announces over coffee, “Today, I’m going to fall head over heels in love with someone I’d never marry.” I didn’t.
It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air -
and there, night came in.
When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography -
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.