Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Not quite seven, and not quite awake, I suddenly rose to your beauty. Unconventional at best, but a refined symmetry ideal for a watercolor. I envied the way the sun kissed you that morning; so delicately pecking your cheek. Your eyes refracted pools of sadness, but an undefinable serenity. Were you safe in my flimsy arms? My pedestrian looks only enhancing your beauty. Was I not enough? Or maybe, too much.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
I always wanted to be that simply beautiful girl. You know, lace and pearls and a deep part with dark brown cascading locks. No lipstick and maybe some mascara. Nothing excessive, just pure beauty. But I am not. I’m leather stifling in the Florida heat. Shreds in your tights and an uneven part. An overprocessed blonde and seven rings. No simplicity because it’s never enough.
Friday, February 17, 2012
Why is it that hypocrisy is the most distinct foundation for everyone’s life? Disagree all you want, but then that will just make you fall under that category even more. We’re told to let our feelings out, open up, break down those walls we spend our whole life building up, and the second we do, we are ridiculed, slaughtered and served for supper. The instant we put our personal issues and struggles out there, we are suddenly classified as whiny, self-absorbed, selfish individuals. And isn’t society always telling us to love ourselves because we’re beautiful just the way we are? The queen herself has even embedded into millions of little monsters’ heads that they were “Born This Way.” Yet, once one prances around with pride and refers to their self as, gasp, beautiful, it’s an abomination! How dare someone actually possess confidence and acquire self-fulfillment? Society depicts the perfect person as accessible, yet still defensive; humble, yet still secure. But in actuality, we’re all stuck in a lose-lose rut.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
1- Ya know those 24 hour sappy love movie marathons that you hate to love, but can't resist? Without the attachment of a nagging man, you and your girls can freely enjoy! So go ahead ladies, drool over the celebrity eye-candy, we won't judge.
2- You won't have to worry about which heels to wear with that little black dress. The only fashion crisis you may run into is whether to wear your black or blue sweats. Does it really get any better than that?
3- Extravagant dining will not be on your list of activities for the night, and your thighs will thank you for that.
4- The faux smile and "Thank you, I love it!" that you've got rehearsed, won't need to come into play.
5- It may just be a bear and some chocolates, but America seems to believe that just because a stuffed animal is stitched with dingy red hearts and silly little sayings, it should double in price. One of the biggest pros about not having a Valentine, is the fact that you will actually be to able to pay your bills in the month of February AND splurge on those sky-high stilettos you've been lusting for. Thank you nonexistent lover!
Just kiss me goodbye and be on your way, it’s the easiest solution for these cruel games I play. I make them fall and swoon, and then I flee. A jester, at best, is what I make them to be. But who am I to do so? As I’m a mere peasant, or worse, a thief..a criminal. I’m no better, matter of fact, I am far below. Subjected to the pillory for good intent, but shameful execution of my heart’s aim. But it’s all for the sake and protection of myself; my emotions are the ones to blame. A heart twice my body isn’t an easy organ to possess. It weighs heavy on my head, heavy on my chest. You see, those with the biggest hearts hurt others the most because it takes triple the love to repair the damage. Only they are capable of being so destructive to someone they love, and not only bandage the wound, but heal it entirely.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Sometimes I feel like I have a loyalty to fashion, a bond that, if broken, I will be submitted to the hounds of hell. It's almost like I am married to style, fashion and designers and we have this unspoken vow to one another that til death due us part, we shall remain committed. And even in the fiery pits of hell, because we all know that's where the style slaves end up, we mustn't part from one another. This attachment to fashion is slightly an obligation, but without the force. It's a dedication that I feel I not only owe to the industry, but I owe to myself. Throughout all of my darkest days, (and God only knows there's been a plethora of them), the one consistency in my life has always been style. People have fled, pets have died, money has diminished, but the spirit of style has stayed faithful to me regardless of the situation. It's kind of romantic in a cheesy, disgusting way if you ask me. Fashion and I, we've been through our rough patches, but our unconditional attachment and love for one another has remained. There's something really comforting about having one thing in your life that will never part from you and that you can pour every ounce of your energy, frustration, ecstasy, urgency and heart into. It makes the nights of solitude, sitting, sipping a glass of Pinot feel like a personal party for two.