posts tagged "poetry"
All I really want in life is for Topshop to be affordable.
And to have babies one day.
That’s all. Really.
Typing out my old journal before I start a new one.
Reading my old writing makes me feel a lot of things. Embarrassed, happy, sad, nostalgic. But for the most part it makes me feel more present and more connected to who I really am. A lot of it is painful to re-read; looking back and seeing words connected to thoughts and feelings that I longer understand is an odd experience, but maybe necessary. Writing brings me back to the part of myself that only comes out in words. The only part that comes out correctly, anyway.
Haha, thank….you? And I used to be terrified of heels, but I’m kind of starting to realize that life is too short for me to be concerned with what everyone thinks of how tall I am. I love fashion. I love it. And depriving myself of beautiful shoes because I’m self-conscious is just stupid. I actually wore like 4 inch heels to work today at J. Crew. Of course I get a few stares, but hey, a little attention never hurt anyone. And, honestly, for the most part, any attention I got because of my height today with heels was mostly positive.
Thoughts on trying to start writing anything at all.
There are so many words I have inside me that seem stuck in between my ribs. They’re piled up and fading, never clear and never strong enough to let one rise above the rest and lead into a story, an essay, a stream of thought. I seem to have so many words inside me that there are too many to ever choose a first sentence. The beginning gets lost in the fact that I have so, so, so many middles hiding, falling, stolen by each other, all laying inside me, under my heart - past that place that wants so badly for things to start rolling into motion, falling together at the steady rate of my pulse.
I want to forget beginnings. I want to forget the awkward stumbling over the crack in the sidewalk of all my words. The sidewalk that leads to the end of a story that I can’t quite seem to get out of me. It’s hard to have a story without a beginning, especially when all I seem to see is the middle.
I want to finally live the middle and write it over and over. I want clarity. Because nothing gets done through beginnings. Nothing was changed because of the first sentence of the world’s greatest novel - it was the middle that made it substantial, wasn’t it?
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the beginning is the most beautiful part of any story because it’s the hardest to spell out. But maybe the beginning is simply the middle, starting. Maybe that’s how I should think of things. Maybe that’s how I should always begin.
