Isn’t it exhausting living a life that has a derailed a lil bit. The silver lining still hangs although a little bit tarnished but you aren’t ready to hang up your tiara and admit defeat and die.
Where I got caught up in the Pin-Up scene is so many of us are portraying a character of some sort. Not always but in times of social uncertainty the world of social media is where we find ourselves making do and there is a fine line in letting those know out intimate details. Or does that take away from what makes us human and realizing our dreams?
I mean I was happy being me. I always loved to co-ordinate the perfect outfit. I must have been a fashion designer in a previous life. Maybe that is why I am so pulled to New York City. Big cities. I don’t like. The rubbing of elbows and knees with shoulders is just something I don’t think is ideal and in a way I don’t think organically it is right.
The Pin-Up world was so attractive to me as I had always been one to be matching my panties with my other under garments and hose. Toss me a crinoline and a pair of satin gloves and I get lost in my element and everything inside me is brought to life. What happened in those moments when I was crowned Queen to all that negativity and backlash was more than just having my first Queen title euphoria rip away. It put my guard up with all these ladies and I began to feel queasy as I began to enter the deepest bout of depression I have ever come to know.
I still to do this day haven’t reactivated my original Facebook. It is too painful still to see what was once will never be again and yet I remain still. Well not entirely as I am ready to move forward and reclaim that feeling of being crowned on center stage. At the time it was just one bad apple but isn’t one bad apple enough. I mean she caused me to think differently and lose hope in something so mainstream.
Ladies in their best image will always be destined to bring out their worse. To play games with others raw feelings and emotions like that was their priviledge not just a matter of misplaced fact. I guess in an honest opinion about myself I would have to say I played far too many malicious tunes. I didn’t go out of my way persay and their is a lot of danger in knowing that fact. There are things in life that I have known about being done that will make you sick. Those stories I can never talk about. I know that for fact.
So I think about all the lies we tell each other trying to get them to believe this, that and the next thing. Who we are when backs are turned isn’t the same as we are when eyes are closed with open hearts. I would rather feel the presence of a soul that walks into a room then judge them from scrutinized eyes. There isn’t a hate more cutting then that in which we hold for ourselves. We should be more forgiving as we bared witness and could testify to it all.
When I think about the girls 10 years my junior I can’t believe how cruel they once were. Telling me to slit my wrists in a shallow tepid bath I can’t imagine why. Acting like their lines of coke were purer that mine but back then I never indulged. The things I can never forget or unsee with people who no longer exist makes me cringe. I still believe my friend was euthanized by her ex boyfriend because she knew too much to live to tell the tale. She died in her Grandmother’s spare room in the middle of her sleep. She was there to get clean and sober and not to make us all weep.
It’s people like her that was once filled with so much hope and promise that reminde what it means to be alive. A sweet lost soul just wanting to be loved. She died at the hands of her drug dealing boyfriend. Well whatever it was he was chosing to slang. During a time when social media was rarely a thing we watch her shoot across the stary sky like am enigma than burned out and died. A decade has passed since I have known her. Time flies so fast and then it’s long gone.
We can’t live in the past because that moment is long gone. We can search for our truth and passion begging to be heard and felt rather than pushed aside for some other younger version of self. I love who I am and who it is I portray. I love that I can fill myself with hope after a long time of gray. To see the sky lined as silver instead of rusted over with filth. I hope for what is all promised. The inevitable descent into an honest truth. Or what I hope is an honest truth or a purposeful existence. I hope one day to be loved by another but in the absence of another I got to turn the love up for myself.
Everything I do is annoying to him so it makes me wonder if I should do it some more. If I do engage in such behaviour would that justify behaviour that could retiliate or worse. I sheltered myself from bad energy because it has come far too much. To be forever hated or loved by just one. I think I know the answer but I am not entirely sure. I will relinquish over my faith and begin working the room. All I have ever come to know I have taught myself. Who needs to love another when I can forever love myself.