How Taylor Swift's Facial Expressions Perfectly Articulate Our Feelings

How Taylor Swift's Facial Expressions Perfectly Articulate Our Feelings

Her face says it all.
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Taylor Swift is the epitome of dramatic facial expressions. No matter what she does, she always puts 110 percent into her attitude, whether on tour or in interviews. Here are some examples of how well her facial expressions perfectly articulate our feelings about everyday situations!

1. When you look back at old photos from middle school.


Yeah, it was an awkward time for everyone.

2. When you see a spider in your room.


Oh, my God, someone kill it!

3. When your BFF tells you some juicy gossip.

She did what now?

4. When you're downtown with your friends and see a fine looking guy at the bar.


Why, hello there.

5. When you realize that finally going to the gym was a bad idea.


Yeah, no thanks.

6. When the girl you don't like walks in looking flawless and you have to admit it to yourself.


Oh OK, I see you.

7. When your mom walks away after a fight and you get back at her by secretly doing this.


Ha! Take that!

8. When you're showing off your dance moves in the club.


I can't dance at all, but look at Taylor shake it!

9. When you're trying to be subtle.


Enough said.

10. When you're proud that you got an A on your final exam.


Thank you, thank you. All that hard work finally paid off!

11. When you walk by a mirror and low-key check yourself out.


Come on, we all do it!

12. When the haters walk by.

Excuse me while I curtsy.

13. When the cute guy in class winks at you.

You suddenly start hearing wedding bells.

14. When you know the truth, but bae is making up what 'actually happened.'

Oh, really? Please continue.

15. When you see your best friend all dressed up and she's looking fabulous.

Work it, girl!

16. When you're getting ready to go out and start taking model selfies with your friends.

Then you spend the next half hour figuring out which one to post on Instagram.

You've got to love Taylor!

Cover Image Credit: EOnline

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The End Of The Semester As Told By Todd Chrisley

Because we're all a little dramatic like Todd sometimes.
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The last 3-4 weeks of every college student’s semester are always crazy hectic. We have last minute assignments, group projects, and exams all squeezed into the last few weeks before break.

Sometimes we all need a little humor, and sometimes we are all a little dramatic, so why not experience the last few weeks of the semester as told by the king of drama himself, Todd Chrisley of Chrisley Knows Best.

1. Sitting in class listening to your professor explain upcoming assignments/exams.

2. When your group project members refuse to do anything until the night before it's due or just show up the day of to present.


3. When you and your roommate try to cook with whatever few ingredients you have left in stock.

Because we definitely want to avoid going to the grocery store at the end of the semester if we can.

4. When your parents get tired of you calling them about every little inconvenience in your life.

5. Sitting down to work on assignments.


6. Your thoughts when the professor is telling you what they want from you out of an assignment.


7. When you've had about 30 mental breakdowns in 2 days.

8. Trying to search out the class for the right group members.

9. The last few days of classes where everyone and everything is getting on your nerves.

10. When your friend suggests going out but you're just done with the world.

11. This. On the daily.

12. When all you want to do is snuggle up and watch Christmas movies.


13. Studying and realizing you know nothing.


14. When your finals are over and it's finally time to go home for break.


You're finally back to your old self.

Cover Image Credit: Instagram

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The Breath of Solitude

A Poem With A Prologue // Polar Viewpoints.

mccall
mccall
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Prologue:


She smacks your parted lips,

sucking the dry,

open cracks to a seal.

Pumping energy into your chest

and sending a continuous shiver

from lung to navel.


You can't help but cough,

as your lungs tighten and twist.

Ringing the frosty sensation out –

slipping through your parted lips.


The same parted lips that

allowed her deliberate fingers

to crawl inside

where she can escape her own dimension

of solitude.




The Breath of Solitude


All I know

is solitude.


We chat

every day

in conversations that circulate

behind the backs

of the present.


Solitude grinds my coffee beans,

as we sit

with our legs crossed,

waiting for dawn

to explode over our opaque landscape.


Solitude runs my bath,

bubbling

as the Sun crashes

against the diminishing horizon.


But none of this is reality.

I am above

the dimension of reality.

Not theoretically,

but physically.

I am only a tool

to be used in the dimension

of your reality.

Drifting in and out,

twirling through your negative space.

My only purpose

is found through your breath;

but what do I do

when you stop breathing?


I wait for your fingers,

less deliberate than mine,

but filled with that

that I lack.


I cannot see the blood

that sloshes through the veins

in your innocent hands.

The blood that energizes

those fingers

upon which I wait.


But I know

the blood is there.

It isn't

what you do.

It isn't

the way you move.

Simply put,

it is

the way

that you exist.


The sheer fact

that you have a bursting burgundy waterfall

streaming,

not only through your fingers,

but engulfing all of you

in its rich,

rooted,

energy.


The only waterfall

that I encompass

is the waterfall

that you imagine.

I have no blood;

I have no way to exist.


And so I

wait for your fingers,

less deliberate than mine,

but filled with that

that I lack.


I wait for your fingers

to filter the heat

to a state of regulation,

a state of production,

a state in which I can exist.

The peach fuzz

that sleeps on the bridge of your nose

begins to rise

when your fingers initiate the flame.

The temperature reacts,

as would my heartbeat,

if I had a bursting burgundy waterfall,

or some type of life source

inhabiting my chest cavity.


As the heat

starts to melt

my metaphorical skin,

I become reality.

I don't have a face to smile,

or eyes to produce tears.

But I have thoughts.

I have words to say,

I have feelings to express.


I still can only drift,

in and out,

twirling through your negative space,

but now spiraling

into your positive space,

as well.


mccall
mccall

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