I’ve always admired Taylor Swift. In the last year, my admiration for her character may have been tested with all the scandals surrounding her reputation. However, she’s never been afraid to be honest in her lyrics, and that’s something I connect to. Her lyricism tells a story; her albums are open narratives about her love and loss, her life. Being an open person who also derives comfort from writing down my thoughts and feelings, I draw inspiration from her boldness. She owns herself and her truth and, right or wrong, that’s admirable.
The Autumn leaves falling down like pieces into place,
And I can picture it after all these days.
And I know it’s long gone,
And that magic’s not here no more,
And I might be okay,
But I’m not fine at all.
I just need that second chance. I know it’ll fade away completely if I could just have that again, only with someone else. Someone new. Someone who can stick around.
And I know it’s long gone
And there was nothing else I could do
And I forget about you long enough
To forget why I needed to
I don’t know why it’s come back to me all of a sudden this past week. I thought I’d put it all behind me, but the most insignificant fragments have returned to shatter me.
The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we’d grown together died of thirst
It was months and months of back and forth
You’re still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can’t wear anymore
Anyway, I’m sat in my bed listening to Lord Huron, eating a nectarine, and brainstorming a blog post for my internship. It’s 9:55 pm. I’ve been slowly working my way through The Wild Truth by Carine McCandless and it’s painful to read about Carine and Chris’ childhood. To see how much was omitted from Into the Wild, both the book and the film. There was such toxicity, such abuse in that household––it makes Chris’ decision to go off the grid all the more understandable.
Tomorrow I get to teach seventh graders about writing. How to write for fun, for stress relief, and as a way to get to know oneself better. I’m going to talk about blogging and journaling, and have them do a stream of conscious exercise my junior year English class did that changed the way I write. I’m hoping I can make them more aware of the ways writing can help them outside of academics, but I don’t have much of a lesson plan put together and get nervous speaking in front of people, so we’ll see how it goes.
I just want to dance. That’s probably my favorite thing about parties––the dancing. When I dance, I feel free and uninhibited. It’s an outlet for stress and negativity and anything else that may have built up in the course of the day or week. Dancing can also help me express things I can’t with words. Like the way the instrumentals of Avicii make me feel, or the sense of invincibility that music gives me. I’ll dance anywhere and everywhere, and I’m not sure whether that’s a good or bad thing. (My G pointed to a book at brunch this morning titled “How to Behave in a Crowd” and said I should take notes.) What can I say? I take after my free-spirited and wild mother, though I’d like to think I’m a better dancer.
When you get older
Your wild heart will live for younger days
One day you’ll leave this world behind
So live a life you will remember.
These are the nights that never die.
When thunder clouds start pouring down
Light a fire they can’t put out
Carve your name into those shining stars
Go venture far beyond the shores.
Don’t forsake this life of yours.
I’m worried about money. I spent a lot this summer, more than I anticipated or should have. Now I have another trip coming up this winter, and I know I want to go abroad for the entirety of next summer. That’s why I got a job, and my internship is paid, but I’m still anxious that I have too much catching up to do.
I hate getting “hit up.” When people want something from me, but play games or dance around it or pretend that they don’t. I have zero tolerance for bullshit and prefer bluntness over euphemisms any day. People who think they’re entitled to my time or my help irritate me to no end. Especially people I worked hard to keep in my life, before finally coming to the realization they aren’t worth it, only for them to pop up a month later like nothing has happened and try to reinsert themselves into my life (or DMs). No! This is not okay by me––be straight with me or go away, please and thank you. I’m too heated about this at the moment to phrase it any more eloquently.
Yet at the same time, it’s nice to be chased for once. To not be the one doing the chasing. And I’m in a place where I could take it or leave it, which makes remaining detached easy, and the situation, while a bit infuriating, entertaining. I’ll just sit back with a bag of popcorn and see how it plays out, although my money’s on nothing changing because nothing ever does when it comes to him.
But you’re just my type
The kind that only calls me late at night
You can’t decide if you’ll be yours or mine
I hate to say it, but you’re just my type