And before I even realised it, my imagination had run away without the rest of me, leaving my legs and logic and my reason and rationale behind. I've always been this way, through both nature and nurture, my tendency to overthink and over-anatomise can be out of control sometimes. I fall in love with people after one solitary exchange, without knowing a single fact about them, in the same way that I resent people after one observation out of the corner of my eye, forgetting that we all, as individuals, are a hundred million different personalities at any moment of any day.
Maybe always but especially now, the bar I have set for my own cloud nine is astronomically high, perhaps as high as heaven itself. It is a blessing to be so sure of one's personal preferences but simultaneously it is a curse to feel a twinge of dissatisfaction lurking in the shadows of every experience, like the devil itself it leaves me always wanting more, wanting to feel more, wanting more love, more light, more ... something. Nothingisasperfectasyoucanimagineit, nothingisasperfectasyoucanimagineit, nothingisasperfectasyoucanimagineit.
My remedy for this infernal discontent, is that instead of comparing and cursing my own [and the] inadequacies [of everything around me], is that perhaps we can celebrate the unparalleled qualities that make each individual different and exceptional beyond comprehension. Maybe we shouldn't limit ourselves to one single celebration, but encouraging the distinctions between us all. My singular resolution for 2019 was to rein in the shame that trembles in the hollow of my head, the mortification of being different, the conviction that I am feeling things deeper than I should be, but still short of the wisdom or courage [or both, even], to become the best possible version of myself.
Maybe always but especially now, the bar I have set for my own cloud nine is astronomically high, perhaps as high as heaven itself. It is a blessing to be so sure of one's personal preferences but simultaneously it is a curse to feel a twinge of dissatisfaction lurking in the shadows of every experience, like the devil itself it leaves me always wanting more, wanting to feel more, wanting more love, more light, more ... something. Nothingisasperfectasyoucanimagineit, nothingisasperfectasyoucanimagineit, nothingisasperfectasyoucanimagineit.
My remedy for this infernal discontent, is that instead of comparing and cursing my own [and the] inadequacies [of everything around me], is that perhaps we can celebrate the unparalleled qualities that make each individual different and exceptional beyond comprehension. Maybe we shouldn't limit ourselves to one single celebration, but encouraging the distinctions between us all. My singular resolution for 2019 was to rein in the shame that trembles in the hollow of my head, the mortification of being different, the conviction that I am feeling things deeper than I should be, but still short of the wisdom or courage [or both, even], to become the best possible version of myself.
( "some of you haven’t spent countless hours thinking up a whole universe in your head to escape to and it shows" )
"This morning with her, having coffee."
- Johnny Cash, when asked for his description of paradise.
- Johnny Cash, when asked for his description of paradise.
Love, A x
