My 16 year old self is kicking my 26 year old self’s ass. Because of who I have ‘become’, of interactions & choices in life that I have made – and the consequences I have and will face because of doing such.
But mostly because lil miss xXpunkXrawkXx is far from being that person I was then… and yet I am in this weird state of ‘label’ limbo. I have absolutely no fashion sense, nor do I really care to – I’m plain jane, and probably always will be. And yet part of me is female and craves fashion knowhow, and then part of me is still secretly punkrock and wants sleeves and my Monroe piercing back.
And my 16 year old self had knowledge of direction and ambitions I craved. I knew what I wanted to do – and knew what it took to get there. Yet now floater me, is lost – because I have floated for the past 8 years, and now have fallen and have to stop. Wings Chopped, baby.
Women should not be allowed to look at pictures of their romantic partner’s ex-girlfriends. Nor should we be allowed to look at pictures of our ex-romantic interests current love interests. Further, we should instead remember our own beauty and exemplary gifts to the world. We (and I) have so much to offer and yet We (and I) sell ourselves so damn short by constantly comparing ourselves to blonde haired, size 2, catholic sorority plastic chicks. That just ain’t me, and honestly – even as lost and unaware of who I am as I may presently be – I know enough, to know that won’t ever be me.
In the meantime I’ll continue to be one who at 26 wears chucks, pearls and braids in the same moment. I will forever love hemp necklaces, birkenstocks and outdoor festivals. I will continue to hug trees and feel closest to g-d in nature (I believe in g-d, only I spell it n-a-t-u-r-e – Frank Lloyd Wright). My soul craves bon fires with my anam cara and closest of friends. I will forever want to be married with my most intimate friends & relatives under a big, forest gump style, oak tree on a perfect late summer evening, bare foot. I want to help others realize that their past does not define them, and the future is theirs to conquer. I want to help 16 year old girls learn the importance of self-esteem, and not have to struggle with body dysmorphia/eating disorders. I want to help inspire those who thought life was cut short by tragic mistakes they’ve made – that there is still hope. I will never believe nor accept the idea that government is of any use or benefit to any human being except those who want to control and monopolize those beneath them. I will forever want to engulf myself into every culture and society – to learn more and never stop learning. I hope I am never content with the knowledge I have and always crave to obtain more. I want to accept that ‘courage is being scared to death but saddling up anyway’ – even if John Wayne was a draft dodger. I want to teach my children true, true love in the most simple of ways. I want to be better – always striving to be kinder, more loving, more uplifting, more devoted, more passionate, more simple ha. I secretly want to sell all my possessions and run away from this stupid country – and in the same breath give my deepest and most sincere gratitude to the men and women who have helped fight to give me the rights I have to bitch about this stupid country. Hockey moms should simply be that – great moms not presidents. I want to be content with what I have – not want more. I want to be grateful for what I have, and desire to have less and give more. I want to make art – beautiful art – that inspires, encourages, that changes the world. Even if it only changes me. “It's no big deal. What's thirty? Just, you know, the end of youth. Goddamn it, I am looking forward to it!”- ♥Jonathan Larson, I want to write music. I want to sit down right now at my piano and write a song that people will listen to and remember, and do the same thing every morning for the rest of my life. ♥…..and before I go overboard (which I probably already have) I’ll stop my ADHD-madness here.