When Did We Decide to Grow Up?

Life is all pretty silly, if you ask me. I can say I’ve been through the wringer and I can probably say, with relative safety, that I’ve gotten myself enough of a taste of trouble to know what it should feel like. And in all seriousness, it’s just plain silly.

When did we decide we wanted to grow up? I remember being a little girl and having the time of my life pretending to be an alien from another planet, or an insect, or a brilliant inventor. I remember children’s novels being so much more entertaining than scandalous romance novels. Yet I don’t recall wanting to be an adult until I was fourteen. An age not old enough to drive but not young enough to play pretend without looking immature. Let’s face it; kids don’t have a lot of back off. They see something they want and it’s in their hands the next second. Kids trust their instincts. They know their feelings.

Grown-ups, however, play the very unnecessary game of keeping up with the Jones and maintaining the best appearance, whether that be physical or perceived. We are so afraid of ‘what other people are going to think.’ But why do we even give a damn? When did it start mattering so much to us? We didn’t have to try to have friends when we were young, we didn’t have to impress anyone and we got along fine. Why are so scared of not being accepted now?

I started thinking the other day that I should go to Claire’s, an accessory shop I frequented when I was little, and buy a pair of ice cream cone earrings. Just for the hell of it. Why not?

Acting like an adult and being super uptight when you’re not is actually incredibly fun. It isn’t until you actually become an adult and super uptight that you wonder why life turned to Hell.

I don’t want to be a kid again. I’m not interested in building Legos or catching lizards in my backyard. However I want to be an adult with the same carefree nature I had when I was a kid. If being a grown-up means being concerned about appearances and what others will perceive you as and withholding yourself from life, then I don’t want to grow up. Ever.

Unheard Of

I’m not angry. I’m not going to ignore you for three days straight. I’m not going to cry either. But I’m going to tell the truth, and that takes strength, both for me to do and for you to listen.

I could’ve called your bluff many times, but I didn’t. The desire to be the Alpha in a relationship has waned greatly in me. I don’t respect being ‘told’ what to do by anyone, not even the Greats, and I would assume the same of you (as I would anyone) which is why I refrained from speech and held my touch through thick and thin, until the last straw. Not that I’m the better for it, but I’m not much worse off either.

I don’t need to tell you what you already know. We’ve had this conversation many, many times. But here’s the one thing I haven’t said yet.

All the earth shattering mistakes or inconsequential blunders you may have made do more to harm you than they do anyone else. They are but shadows on the wall. This I can vouch for. It’s owning up to them, saying ‘Yes, I was the one to cause that terribly foolish mistake’, as hard as that might be, that is the only way to ever free yourself from entrapment. You want to talk about baggage, that’s a fine example right there; everything you’ve ever done to the detriment of a past significant other, left to the responsibility of ‘someone else’, carries with you through all future relationships.

At this exact moment, I neither want you back nor despise you. I have no reason to. If there is anything in the world that I can do for you, it is only to get you to understand what I am saying. And you should realize, this isn’t for my benefit; trust me, I would’ve let you drown. However, I’ve come far enough along to discover that no one, no matter how inhumane their past actions, deserves to be left stranded. And though I will surely take the blow for this as well, my bulletproof vest has lasted me this long, I see little reason to doubt its efficacy now, particularly in a time of most dire need.

So it is with these last words that I leave you. By these statements, I wish only to enlighten, not to blame or scorn. I saw the devil in the dark and I danced with him many times, but I will not forget that I also saw a beautiful, capable, warm, courageous person behind a closed door. All you have you have to do is open it. Now is that so unheard of?

Wounded

Sometimes all you want is someone to care. It’s not difficult.

How do you help a wounded bird? You care for it. You go slow and gentle so you don’t frighten it. You don’t berate it for having damaged itself somehow. You don’t stand back and assume it’s going to fix itself. You don’t shrug your shoulders and go on with your life as though a living being isn’t injured and within your reach. You help it; but first, you have to care enough to help it.

When the person closest to you has priorities obviously more important and vastly different from making sure you know beyond a doubt you have someone you can count on, what is there to do? It’s a great thing to get angry about; I don’t want you to take sympathy on me. All I want is a hug. And I don’t want to have to ask for it. Why is that so difficult?

I can almost always pick myself back up, but on those few occasions that I can’t, I want your help. It’s so fucking easy. I want you to care, even if you don’t understand. And if that’s not happening, then we don’t have anything left to talk about.

Winter

Cold is the evening winter breeze, leaving a chill upon my skin as I lay beneath a cloud-veiled moon. I am alone. I hear the sounds of cars as they drift down the street toward their destinations, carrying weary passengers to their warm beds.

I think I am alright. Though I am not certain. The world seems at ease, and as I ponder it, I think I am too. I feel no fear, no pain, no desire. I am not numb, for I can feel the steady beat of a heart beneath my ribs-thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump-and the warm flow of blood through my veins.

Winter holds me in his arms, a comfort, a faithful friend, and I know he will never let me down. Sure as the moon shines bright behind the cloud cover, as the sun will greet my half-closed eyes in the morning and the birds will sing again.

I know adventure lies ahead. I can almost hear the crunch of gravel beneath my boots as I trek the treacherous and winding mountain roads that lay beyond the deceitful serenity enveloping me. But I will pay danger no mind, not now. Let the great bird rest its wings; it cannot frighten me now. For fear is a choice, and I choose more wisely this time. Though the storm may continue to brew on a burnt amber horizon, I adjust my sails as I swing toward it, a fire in my heart and peace in my mind, and I know this time, I will not be afraid again.

P.S. I Still Love You

I once posed myself the question, “What would I prefer, a relationship with the highest of the highs and the lowest of the lows, or one that was steady and rather unexciting?”

My answer, at the time, was the former. I didn’t want to depend on anything and I wasn’t willing to compromise. I wanted the highest of the highs even if that meant having to brave the worst storms. But, after some consideration, I realize that I’ve already done that. I’ve already lived through more emotional pain than anyone needs to experience.

When you and I broke up, I was happy. Not because I was ready to be done with it, no. The reason was because I was no longer disturbed by an unfulfilled prophecy. You see, I was afraid to be happy, afraid to get exactly what I wanted because too many times it had been taken away from me. I was resigned to the fact that you and I would eventually end, and that loving you more would only make the pain far more unbearable when it inevitably came to a close. I was jaded, cheated by years of experiencing repetition and coming to the conclusion that that was to be my life, and the harder I tried to change it, the harder I’d fall, so why bother with it?

I tried to move on after you. I really did. I searched for a distraction, a friend, a lover, someone to save me from myself and make me forget you and how happy I almost could have been; someone to take away the scent of possibility I would never be able to touch. So I thought.

It was halfhearted but I convinced myself otherwise. I may be a cruel person but I was also wounded, and deeply, and for a long time.

Suddenly, upon meeting someone else who I become shockingly close to in a matter of hours, I began to ponder if my so-called affliction was cured, or at the least mitigated. I explored the possibility and confirmed it to be true. I could get what I wanted. Life became sweet again.

This brings us back to the original question: “Do I want the highest of highs and lowest of lows, or steady and unexciting?” The answer is neither. And funny enough, we were neither.

So I have come full circle this time, starting down the path I set out on. This may trouble you and I apologize that I continue to make the mistake of treading carefully, but you must understand I am an old dog and learning new tricks is easier said than done.

At the end of the day, one thing is certain. We may not be perfect, but you’ll never find me anywhere else, and I can already say the same is true of you.

P.S.
I still love you.

After Dusk

Going out after two days of having a cold is very peculiar. Things look largely disproportionate and often too brightly colored. Half the time I feel like I’m going to fall over; the other half, I’m worried about something trivial.

That’s the one thing about being sick I could certainly do without; the stress. It’s already difficult enough to secure work during the week. I don’t need three days of being laid up in bed, essentially incapacitated, on top of that.

But here I am in the outside world, trying not to worry about things. I sold my camera to cover part of my rent, now I need to hustle to make the rest without selling my soul. Trying not to worry….

So you know what I’m going to do? I’m going to use my iPhone solely for all my photography. This means a few good investments to be made at Photojojo and time spent testing out a lot of different apps.

So far I’m enjoying the classic Camera+ for shooting and editing, as well as Vintique for filters and interesting frames. I’m in love with vintage filters. Enough said.

Secondly, I’m starting to shoot video. Again, I have nothing but my phone to shoot with, so if any apps can be recommended to me, I’d be much appreciative. Directr looks worth a shot.

As for New Year’s resolutions, I have but these few, and they are as follows:

1. Be more honest, even to the extent of being crass.
2. Become a famous Hollywood actress and model.
3. Lose twenty pounds.
4. Actually start using a calendar and schedule for the very first time in my life.
5. Channel my frustration into any creative outlet I can get my hands on.

One of my resolutions, though not listed, is to maintain this blog weekly and keep people honestly informed of my goings-on. I believe a good day to publish my weekly edition is Thursday. Therefore, look for a new post from me every Thursday, this week excluded for I have already gone and gotten myself a head start. Aha!

And this time, I promise to be a little less cryptic. Just a little.

Explain This

Ok. I officially declare myself to be utterly confused at this exact moment in time.

Not two days ago, I had made myself a promise that I would not do a certain something until another certain something occurred (if ever it did occur), and if that second something never occurred, then I would keep my resolution to refrain from doing the first something no matter how painful it would be to do so. Now how’s that for being vague?

Anyways, that certain something did occur. Whether or not I actually had anything to do with it is neither here nor there; all that I know now is the promise I made to myself must now be fulfilled.

Oh, Future Me, you are so fickle a thing, undulating like a ribbon in a breeze, deciding and undeciding which direction you will flutter. It never ends, does it?

In other news, I have a non-refundable ticket to a photography workshop in Canada and just over a month to make enough money for airfare, accomodations, food and a passport. Alright. I can handle this. Cake.

And here, for your enjoyment, are three random photos, taken at three random locations. Stay peppy my friends.