Drifting

Today I am drifting. I feel as though I belong in two places. Torn and detached. The question is where do I belong? I know where I want to belong, but then I wouldn't be here in the now. I have to realize that this is the moment that I am living in. Seizing the moment. I very much need to ground myself and just be. 

I need to just be. Plant my feet on the ground. It is not time to fly away.

Wild child

I put on the bright red lipstick. The words - "go big or go home" - in my head. Today is a day to live. To be fierce. To be vibrant. To be bold. No judgement will pierce me. No eyes will haunt me. 

I am wild. I am free. And I'll wear my leopard dress if I want to. Red lips included.

Standing behind a wall

Standing there. Standing there with a smile plastered on my face. Fighting through the pain in my heart. Fighting to keep it from showing on my face. 

I make myself beautiful on the outside to hide the pain on the inside.

The Veil

I finally figured out why I do not like wedding veils.

My mother informed me the other week that I am being forced to wear a wedding veil. I had no inkling of an intention to do so. But I must. I am being forced. And I'm not happy.

What I realized though, is that the wedding veil seems fake to me. It makes me feel like some doll and that I don't belong. It looks ridiculous to me and I do not think adds to the image. Now this is just my personal opinion. I just feel like an idiot wearing a veil. Like I'm trying to be something I'm not. That's also how I feel when trying on those huge fluffy wedding dresses. I feel like I'm just a doll people are playing dress up with.

I want to be real. I want to be me. Who I am and not something I'm not. I don't care about the wedding.

I care about him.

Nothing

This is a blog about nothing. Nothing this. Nothing that. Nothing everything. What really constitutes nothing. Is it the absence of something? Or is it simply nothing? Nothing.

I lay

I lay asleep, in a dream, a dream of no end, a dream of a thousand ends. I lay asleep. This daze of going through the motions, taking a step that leads to a thousand. Walking with no sense of being able to turn back. I lay asleep. The time passes yet it stands still. Minutes erased and gone. Second tick tick ticking. I lay asleep.

Change Agent

I hate knowing that my friends have troubles or problems. They express their problems to me looking for guidance or uplifting words. I can give that to them, but what more? I can't be what changes them. They are the ones who need to make the changes themselves.

It tears me apart when I can't do more to help. I really wish I could, but sometimes there is only so much you can do.

Working for my friends

Acknowledgement. I finally met a photography student who really thanked me for helping her out as a model.

I enjoy being able to hell out my friends as a model, but at the same time it stresses me out. They are not always clear as to exactly what they want the style to be. Half the time they tell me to just wear what I usually do because I'm stylish.

Here's the thing. I wear a huge variety of clothes. It's not just me, all my friends say so as well. So when you tell me to just wear what I usually do, well that could be anything!

At least I've learned from this as a photographer myself, be specific to your models. They will not stress as much, therefor keeping hair on their head and pimples off their skin.

Brain mush

This week has been quite a week. I find that I'll be talking to someone and then my brain goes blank mid-sentence.... This is what being in college does to a person. Having school, a job and being involved on campus. It's curious, and we all say how excited we will be when school ends, but there's always the craziness of the unknown. I'm not sure we will ever find the balance. I guess we can hope for the best. Not much more to do. Just gotta live life and keep on going.

Fuzzy legs

Oh the woes of a girl. We all say how much easier it would be to be a boy. This is extraordinarily true. We could act like boys, but then we would be brutally judged and called some rather offensive names. Girls are viscous when it comes to appearance. That is why so many girls feel they always need to look nice. Over 75% of the time a girl isn't dressing up for a guy, no she's dressing up to compete with other girls.
Girls have so much pruning to do. Making sure all their facial issues are covered and their bodies hairless. This is where my predicament comes into play.

Shaving legs. Shaving my legs every(ish) day.

It's annoying and causes me to take long showers, only to realize after I get out of the shower a missed a spot, or to become very cold quickly making it pointless that I had shaven at all.

Waxing. Waxing my legs.

See I hate hair on my body. I like smooth silky skin, even if no one else is feeling it. Therefor I shave a lot. But I want to try waxing because I heard of all the benefits it does. Problem is in order to wax there must be hair on your legs. Not just some hair, at least 1/4 an inch if not more.

So here comes me, wanting to wax but loathing hair on my body. I must allow the hair on my legs to grow out.

I'm going insane.

I'm not sure how much longer I can deal with this fuzzy nonsense. How embarrassed I am when my leg hairs peak through at the end of my leggings or jeans. How at this moment my roommates lamp is making the hairs on my legs shine.

This must end.

But I must be strong.

Oh did I mention how weird it feels to have hairy legs in jeans. Not comfortable let me tell you. Not comfortable at all.

Distance

I haven't blogged in say, well I have chosen not to say because it is rather sad making. I just struggle when it comes to blogging without real purpose. If I have purpose behind it then I feel empowered and the words seem to just come. Blogging on my own though, well I don't want to sound like some juvenile lovesick teen. But I'm a writer. Blogging is healthy for writers. Therefor I must blog. So today what is on my heart is the fact that the spaces between my fingers are rather empty. I understand when people tell me at least I have someone who loves me and I get to spend my future with, but at the same time, how painful is it to know that I have someone that lights up my world yet I rarely see them because of the life of distance I chose and he chose. I know he is out there, miles away, and our little phones connect us. Tiny pixels form into letters. But these screens are not the soft skin of his hands. His words are nice, but they are nothing like the feel of his fingers brushing across my cheek or rubbing my stomach when I feel sick. I wouldn't trade our love for anything, but distance is torture. We have the hope of our future together, and the knowledge that life is better with each other in it than not at all. So for now I'll survive the distance, I keep to my day dreams about the day to come and I'll keep wishing on those shooting stars.