All week long I intended to write something meaningful but now I feel a peculiar loss as to what this post is going to be about. I have ideas, inspiration, and rainbows swirling around in my head but I’m not sure how to express them in a way that will make any sort of sense. But things don’t have to make sense. Just the mere idea of existence doesn’t make sense to me. I often think that life is just an illusion. It’s all a fantasy and I do my best to seek out the magic that comes with each day. The enchantment is all in my head, and I’m beginning to realize that I view life in a way that not many other people do. I see magic in everything, and I will often view the world objectively as if I’m looking down on the planet while I’m floating around in space somewhere.
We’re only here for a short amount of time, and I fail to comprehend the idea of giving into certain social normalcies and following a path that’s constructed by others. If I want to walk around in vibrant wigs, glitter glossing my eyelids, and orange lipstick, I shall. There is no reason as to why we can’t express ourselves however we choose. We’re all so conditioned to play by the rules, which make me feel trapped. It’s easy for me to say that I’ll do whatever I want, but it terms of execution, succeeding can be tough. I just want to be free, and the freedom I’ve found in writing and fashion are the only senses of freedom I know. If either of the two were taken away from me, I would actually die. There would be no point of living anymore and I’m certain that my heart would shatter into cold little pieces.
In the past few years, I’ve noticed the voice in me that is constantly shouting. Constantly. It’s always been there, but I’m only now realizing its power. It controls my life, and if that makes me completely crazy, so be it. It doesn’t go away until I write and the thoughts are expressed. The thing with writing is that I don’t even know what I’m going to write until it happens. It’s almost as if my soul instructs my fingers to type and I’m just sitting here anxious to see what’s going to be said.
I’m not sure what I intend to do with writing and fashion in terms of relating them to a career. Neither of the two will ever leave me, regardless of whether or not I’m professionally involved in them. In a way, I’m afraid to peruse them in fear that they’ll shift away from interest and I’ll merely just label them as work.
I've just been really confused about the direction of my life, so take my mind off things I've been obsessively organizing my Pinterest boards (i am normal). And to leave you with some visual appeals, here are some of my favorite Pinterest photos this week:
|Vivien Leigh-- Cleopatra|
|Detail of La Jeune Martyre, Paul Delaroche, 1855|
|Birth of Aphrodite by Claude Verlinde|
|Scott Baio & Pamela Anderson|
All photos via Pinterest