I had to redo this school video thing today aaaaand I admit I liked the hair pulled and pinned up. It made me feel some Downton Abbey elegance, with the ‘Lady’ title thrown in. Although I didn’t care much for the dress I was given, where is my beautiful gown from the nineteen hundreds?
So after bad bathroom photos were taken for sentimental documentation I spent the rest of the night getting snapshots of my beloved Chitoge Kirisaki. Here she is accurately depicting what happens when I’m thrown into darkness.
A group of cocoa bean farmers in the Ivory Coast have never had the opportunity to eat chocolate made from cocoa beans. Until now.
I hope to one day bring such joy in another’s life.
Dry air forced through upturned lips
presents me nonchalant and carefree.
Closed and silent are the insecurities
too shallow to voice, too weak to justify
but to the sensitive heart,
I look for inspiration too often now. I think I fly most in movies, long and heartfelt stories. I’m brought into whatever they’re feeling but then it ends and I have to leave. Being a spectator isn’t quite enough anymore.
I headed home after class and found the amazing boy wrapped up in bed watching suits.
After years of monthly upsets you only get better at selflessly turning bad nights around. You’re the absolute best and terribly adorable.
Everything I was excited for today pretty much fell apart, including the dark chocolate milkshake that was supposed to make everything better. Trying to make my own didn’t come through either because my mum’s (now regular) breezy but pressing jibes came earlier than I thought and for today it was just one too many. I’m starving and unintentionally came across a list of hot fudge sundaes while passing time reading redundant articles online. Not sure if the universe is helping me the way photos of food did when I went on the crazy crash diet years ago (looking as a substitute for eating), or rubbing the unattainable treats in my face with all the spite I met with today.
Also, I’ve become a bad student. Not Hermione anymore, motivation for anything, gone. I think this is what jaded is. I’m trying to get out of it, believe me.
I really enjoyed people watching at the main train station. It was cold, lots of people smiled when they caught me looking.
It’s been said that your twenties are your selfish years, for good reasons. I’ve been thinking that way as long as I have thought I was sure of my eventual plan to leave. The country isn’t for me, that has not wavered. But like a gentle epiphany today, I realised my family is. They are for me, and I for them. A life dedicated to seeing and loving them is not wasted, as I thought, in comparison to seeing the world and living elsewhere. I want that too, but they are not an element to be compromised. I work now for them as well as myself, for they are unspeakably precious. Love is a word too small for there is none great enough to hold all it means. I love my family.
I only have enough stubbornness and fear to take the first step, but the leap that comes after requires courage I cannot find.