waking up because you want to.
peppermint shampoo makes you feel fresh.
tofu scramble with a side of avocado.
wobbly bike rides, but its alright because you are with the girls.
kiss the kitten to sleep.
nostalgic freezies.
nuts on the vegan pizza.
bra strap sun burn line.
high waisted denim can never lose.
europe 2015.
gold body paint; coachella ready.
The days just exist.
it is up to you to find something good.
Lets be honest, it has been a while. The amount of drafts that sit on my dashboard like mouldy leftovers is worrying. Write a few sentences, the topic unknown, each sentence chasing the tail of the other but for no apparent reason. The excitement of a good idea suddenly withers away when it can’t grow more than a few lines long. Maybe it is a poem. No, poetry is much more than just an excuse for me giving up. I will come back it to it later. Perhaps my bus ride home will give me some new found wisdom. I fell asleep on the bus that day, and instead of critically examining my surroundings for new ideas, I am dreaming about dinner.
It is this continual process, that leads to the graveyard of half finished blog posts, quarter made dresses, almost finished self portraits without the hands because I am no good at the hands.
This is fault of mine, the lack of finishing things. Maybe it is because I am lazy. Thats what I tell myself anyways. I dream of the day when I have a book written, a clothing line in the physical world, and I have six pack abs.
I hate to say but this isn’t a blog post about success. I am not going to say that yesterday I finished all the blogs post that I set out to write those many afternoons ago, or that dress that I started three years ago has been put together. I am still looking at a pile of unfinished, half alive dreams.
We all have this incomplete pile of ambitions, a constant reminder of what we haven’t done. And when I look at the pile, no matter how big, I get this feeling in my gut, as if I have had too many espresso’s. My mouth dries out a little, and start to think about what I have done. Is there anything valuable I have achieved? If I were to die tomorrow, what do I have to leave behind in this world? What will others remember me by?
I remind myself that isn’t about others, but then again, when is it not?
That feeling in my gut doesn’t seem to go away.
Am I depressed? Is there something wrong with me? When am I going to be ‘something’?
I know these are dangerous questions, but I still ask them.
As this point, I have done nothing for my situation. I have inched toward self destruction, providing myself with a path that only leads nowhere.
So I go for a run. I do something that is simple, instinctive and meditative. It’s important to find those things. I run down to the river.
I take off my shoes, and stand in the freezing water. Its cold, its uncomfortable, but its real. I can feel it. I cry.
Going to the river doesn’t change me.
But it brings clarity.