I have been photoblogging on Instagram these past weeks. I like that I cannot tell who is looking at my words/photos unless they like something or comment. That is one of my biggest issues here: I see every touch (even those that think they are clever). Ignorance is bliss, indeed.

It makes me sad to know that most of the people that still come here only come here to see if I have fallen completely apart. What sort of person enjoys watching others pain?

… sorry to disappoint! I have nothing but amazing to report. It is not that my ducks are all in a row (because let’s face it, that is never going to happen). It is more that I am keenly aware that the feathers are flying and I am really fine with that. I can sweep up the mess when they are done playing.

I am going home for a spell in a few weeks. I am looking forward to being around my family & friends. And the ocean. And springtime (pollen & all).

I have been blessed with a gorgeous reoccurring set of dreams. I will not share the details – they are mine & mine alone. Sharing everything that is special makes things seem less … special. Not that I am holding on to them tightly – I suppose they are on borrowed time? The only part I am sure of is that right now I get to linger in the light (and better than that, the shadows made by the corner lamp) and smile. A lot. Feelings are intimate, words are soft, memories being made are blithesome.

Be still my heart. x

I am obsessed with this song right now.

Rightfully so. x

(“when I’m in your world, grey turns to colour,
my dark thoughts fade away”)

I am so amazingly blessed. Shame on me for dumpster diving.

<3

This time last month I was in such a negative place, I was not sure how I was going to make it the winter without picking up a bottle of wine a day habit. The darkness was all consuming.

I am not going to lie and say I do not miss him. I miss having someone to be constantly (even though it was exhausting) connected to. Someone just to send photos of my lunch to (yeah, it was that lame). Instagram has helped with those fiddly bits.

What did I do with the rest of the stuff? Nothing. What he did to me had nothing to do with me. Or my character. Or my level of attractiveness. His behaviour was due to his mental instability, not because I did ‘something wrong’.

He still calls and texts (and when I ask why, he makes up some excuse that he texted or called me ‘by accident’. Question being, why does he still have my phone number?) just to make sure I am paying attention.

Truth is, I am not. I have better things to do. Like watch youtube videos on steam engines. Or to tackle the growing dust bunny population in my house. Or, washing my hair.

Seriously.

I have a new phone number.., I just have not gotten around to contacting everyone to let them know this. I have had this # for a decade – I am not keen to give it up. Every bit of communication he sends my way, pushes me back two steps.

Then he had the nerve to tell me to get the hint. The hint I am getting from him is, “I wish I was man enough to own up to my shit and apologise so I can move on, too”.

Okay, love. I forgive you. I wish you well and I hope all of your dreams become reality.

Please just leave me be. (OH right, I am in no danger of him actually reading this because I blocked him!)

I have been deliciously happy, otherwise. I have one full assignment left before my last exam.

Very last one.

Then I am off to Wales.

(that was a mini-squee… did you hear it?)

3am? Yeah, I am going to bed.

Platform boots + stripy tights + fancy dress coat = swing time!

This morning I cut out a bunch of paper hearts. Each one is unique. I gave them to people as I walked by them. Every person that was offered one took it. Most said ‘thank you’. Better than that? Most smiled when they thanked me.

The little things.

My heart is so full.

I am waiting for dinner to cook. I was dancing around to the Gorillaz. Boredom sets in quickly with me these days (or, lack of motivation? Yeah, that sounds about right).

Instagram can fix boredom!

Search words: happy, hungry, dinner and pretty.

The huge spectrum of what one thinks is pretty is mindblowing. Hungry brings up loads of different foods, same with dinner. Happy tends to have smiling, yellow and beaches.

Pretty contains all of these things plus sparkles, poems, bouquets, sunsets, duck-face making teenage girls and randomness.

I think it might be my favourite tag.

Not that I would be tagging myself with it. Unless my blouse was #pretty.

Some years ago, Sunday meant sleeping off Saturday nights adventures & getting all dolled up for Goth Night (Communion) at club hell. All my best friends came over to get dressed (most of what they wore came out of my closer). I did everyone’s hair & make-up. It took hours. I loved every moment of it. Wigs, sparklie eyeliners, tons of white pressed powder and a dozen shades of red lipstick – corsets, slips, aprons, fishnets & meters of black velvet…

I upgraded my Sundays into french toast and maple syrup kisses, stepping over random bits of Legos, rolling around on the wool carpet in the living room while being chased by shrieking laughing children and pots and pots of tea.

Little hands running tiny replicas of motorcars on my arms, beautiful singing (of terribly written pop songs), hours and hours of make-believe…

When it is time for the day to come to a close; electric toothbrushes buzz, sticky faces and fingers are wiped clean (with lemon smelling soap), cozy warm pajamas are worn and delectable fairy tales (or deep-sea adventures) are told.

At last the iMac is fired up (if it had not been playing a soundtrack for us already) and something sci-fi like allows for hand holding or knitting to be done.

Monday morning can begin at 6:45 with no trace of a hangover.

Sometimes I miss tight-lacing my corset, or piling my mascara on, eight coats thick and dancing until my feet were sore -

but nothing beats Disney movies with people that still think travelling by air-borne sleigh is possible.

Twinkly, thoughtful, unpretentious eyes. Honest, joyful smiles. Hugs and snuggles.

My life is amazing.

I have been neglecting my life, in the past months, to focus on one person.

I tended to my family & household chores on autopilot. I have been attached to my mobile since I returned from Barcelona.

For a few days I sent text messages to people I have not talked to in awhile. Also, I played Tiny Tower and refreshed CNN repeatedly.

Then I started to take pictures again.

Hey, I am no professional. I tend to photoblog more than I take portraits. I have always enjoyed taking photos to pair up with my words. Sometimes the words are created for the photograph.

I stopped having the desire to create.

It has come back to me, in increments, wary that I might forget about it again.

I have made a promise to myself never to get lost again.

I will also retain my faith. I began believing another version of the ‘truth’. It was not the words that tempted to convert me, it was the mouth they came out of.

It amazes me how other people perceive me versus the way I perceive myself. When I am told that I am: articulate, kind, generous, radiant and talented – I hear (that poorly recorded message) stupid, ugly, fat and worthless.

I think the time has come to pay more attention to the positive, aye?

This requires me to be very picky about who I spend my time with. I do not need another psychic vampire in my life. Luckily, I am surrounded by supportive, encouraging and amazingly amazing people.

I know how I ended up here. I will try to avoid duplicating my mistakes.

I am almost thankful this happened. I do not reset well… this forced me to.

And the girl emerging is surprising even me.

(:

(vegan + gluten free)