No one ever wants to see the guts and all the twee is on my dashboard and sometimes I just feel like I'm either too lazy or too plain or too much past the trope to post anything.
So I am finally posting! I've missed this blog. I looked over my old posts with a friend and realized how much I hate them. I'm not deleting any but I feel like I am almost the complete opposite now. As in, if I were to meet my former self who seems like a caricature of me now, I may or may not like her. This makes me happy because I've changed so much since age 12 and I finally feel AUTHENTIC to myself. This is why I feel like I can post outfits again and feel happy and not have to come up with the dumb, "quirky" ideas of yesteryear (this is not a jab at anyone else, but at me one or two years ago); I think that whatever I wear now will feel so good that I will barely have to think about whether or not I should share it. Dressing is sincerely an art form for me now and this blog can finally be revived. I feel less likely to look back a year from now and wonder what I was doing out of sheer embarrassment. I do have doubts about posting, still-do I sound too serious? Not serious enough? Why don't I have enough time or energy to write about what I want to?-but I can finally see past those inhibitions. It is like school (without the unnecessary stress): if there is someone who does not like me for who I am, then why try to change to fit their mold? It is an endless cycle and it only brings pain.
I am what seems to be perpetually stuck between wanting to wear layers and floor length leather trench coats, and worrying about whether or not someone thinks I am beautiful and occasionally compromising my spirit and art for someone's approval, for the promise of a longing gaze. I want to be Kurt Cobain and Courtney Love and Trent Reznor and Winona Ryder and write "INCEST?" in kohl on my chest and Nirvana lyrics in ink that looks like it came from the River Styx, but I also have days where I do think about channeling sexuality through clothes while maintaining some artistic integrity or transport myself to the 1960s and have an outfit that is the opposite of what I would usually wear. And maybe that's okay. But I don't know. All I know is that I want to belong to myself and 2014 is the beginning of the beginning; however, this is not about a new year, it is not about a new me, it is about the acknowledgment of who I am and the thought that hey, who cares what anyone has to say? Yes, I am imperfect and I can be a contradiction but that can be channeled into so many things that are more productive than lying on my couch listening to Kurt's voice, raw like the inside of bones and crying. This may be the first time-or one of the first times-in my life where I've felt completely happy with myself, inside and out, and it is glorious.
Everything seems fresh and exciting now. There are ups and downs but the former outweigh all the bad.