lately i have a weird thing for construction sites. they're like cygnets or something; ugly but full of potential. imagine making something from nothing ! i'll never see, know, taste, touch, smell, hear or do it all - but that's hardly going to stop me from trying. the only thing to do is move and keep moving, i'll never learn everything i need to if i stay in one place. is courage infinite? and how many times can i let myself break into a zillion little pieces before i'm too scattered to humpty-dumpty myself back together again?
(you'll never know if you don't try!)
i need to articulate everything, always. even if it's nonsense. the worst thing would be to forget. details are important. remember how you felt and what you saw and ate and where you messed up or what you did right and what you wore and how the weather was and all the things you could hear and the path you took to get exactly where you were. i'm 22 years, 6 months and 1 week old today. it's strange to feel a certain way right now and reminisce of a moment (or many, rather) when everything was a violet kind of grey. the best part of it is that i'm made up of moments and thoughts and feelings and memories, so it was never a waste. i needed to be soaked by every thunderstorm in order to wake up and walk to where and who i am right this very minute.