Yesterday i was sitting on my bed, skecthing for fun when i decided to draw a self portrait. I started drawing the outline of my face, and then suddenly stopped. I couldn’t draw anything else; i wasn’t sure how much my eyes slanted, or of the exact shape of my lips… if i kept on drawing i would have ended up drawing a stranger.
It is a strange thing, you would think after looking at yourself in the mirror for over 20 years, you would know for sure exactly how you look like… but it really is hard to remember every little detail of your face.
This made me realize that if someone came to me and asked me who i was, the same thing would happen, i would be able to give them an outline but filling in the details would be a challenge. Maybe it is because we are ever changing, evergrowing. Sometimes it feels like when i am getting used to being one way, something happends in my life that teaches me different.
It’s not a bad thing… just knowing the outline of who you are, because at least with outlines you have boundaries, you have a guideline of the person you want to be. The details can always be figured out later.
So This time last week i was passed out in my bed, having drank too many glasses of wine at some Trend forecasting seminar (which sounded interesting before the talks started) .
I get out of bed, and find my apartment empty; my roommate and friends no where to be seen and then i feel something strange on my left hand. You will probably be as surprised as i was to realize that i had an earing in the web of my hand. Somehow between discussing a new piercing and intoxication my mind failed me and i thought it was a good idea to remove the stud from my ear and shove it into my hand.
Oh how i love myself sometimes. I thought about taking it out, and i almost did, but something about it was charming, but mostly completely insane. After washing my new piercing i went back to bed wondering how many other people could say they happily stabbed their hands.
Now it is healing well and even though this is still probably not the brightest idea i had, it is in a way a celebration of my youth, and the fact that the man who is going to propose to me will be looking at a hand with a hole, and thinking that he is fine marrying a woman who is mentally unstable :P
i dont trust you
you dont trust me
we are both heartbreakers
and no one wants to leave
we fight more than make up
we are consumed by our pride
its always a competition
and someone ends up crying
it feels like more pain than love
and you can’t stop lying
the only thing thats right
is the fact that this is wrong
i better listen to my mind
and move the hell on
I think it’s because you never said goodbye. I think that’s the problem. I wasn’t prepared, i didn’t get a warning that I was about to be forced to let you go.
I was left with nothing. If I knew that was the last time I was going to hold you, maybe I would have held on for a bit longer. If I knew that was the last time I was going to fall asleep in your arms, I would have never woken up. And If i knew that was the last time I would ever look into your eyes, i would have prayed to God that I would have that vision in my mind forever.
But now, the little memory I have from the time I took for granted is starting to fade. The image of you is fading, but the feeling stays the same. That’s the most frustrating part, the more i seem to forget you, the more i miss you.