Im Wasting My Youth And Beauty Being A Mysterious Eccentric Loner But I Wouldnt Have It Any Other Way

I’m wasting my youth and beauty being a mysterious eccentric loner but I wouldn’t have it any other way

I recall with all my lives my reasons for forgetting.

Alejandra Pizarnik, from Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962-1972 (tr. Yvette Siegert)  (via anintimacy)

Start with Facts. End with Iron and Wine.

I'm eighteen.

Today, my family went to vote. I couldn't, my application got caught up in too much red tape. I wouldn't know whom to vote for anyway. I didn't tell them that though.

My father told me to make him some tea today. He likes it freshly made, with tea powder; not really a fan of teabags, the man. Although, I think teabags are pretty pretty. I don't like tea though, not with milk, I don't. Black tea's fine. I read that green tea is quite slimming. Have yet to try it though.

Anyway, I made tea with tea powder. He spat it out. And asked me when I'll ever learn to be useful. While my mother mumbled something about learning to cook an entire meal at the age of eight.

She's a good cook, my mother. Which is awesome and not so awesome at the same time. It's awesome because I get to eat some of the best food in the world and not because a) food=fat b) pretty high culinary standards to live up to since I'm a) eighteen, a full fledged adult and b) unable to make a simple cup of tea.

I'm not what my parents wanted in a daughter. And they're okay with that. They just want me to contribute to society; to be useful. It's kind of hard when you're so confused trying to figure out who you are, I don't think they get it. Maybe they've never been confused. Maybe they just chose the easy way out, being who they were told to be.

It's high time I find out who I am though, I never liked growing up. I cried for hours when I got my first period. I refused to wear a bra when my breasts began to form and now my gigantic boobs are starting to sag at the age of eighteen! Quel Dommage! I'm an adult. Yet, I forget to charge my phone, to brush my teeth. I need to be reminded to comb my hair. I need to be reminded that I'm loved. Constantly.

I'm insecure. I feel like I don't belong where I was born.

Sometimes, it scares me how willing I am to just leave everything behind and fly away to a distant land. There's this pair of white birds outside my window.

There's no other bird like them in this part of town. I wonder why they return to the same tree every sundown when they can be on a conifer in Russia one month and a palm tree in the Bahamas the next.

The experts would ask me to ask myself the very same question. I tell myself that I stay where I am because I'm unselfish and grateful for all that I've been given. I don't want to take it for granted. That's what I tell myself.

But the truth is, I'm afraid of loneliness. And I think you are too.

It's like a baby sleeps in all our bones, so scared to be alone.

more art here / (via Lela Rose | Inslee By Design) 

Morning light ✨ (at Taj Mahal, India)

Hi! I wanted to thank you personally for being my first note in my entire Tumblr days. I don't know how did you find my post but nonetheless, am grateful. I also want to tell you that you don't let other people, including your family, define you. You may not be flawless but you are wonderful. If your body's made for leaving, then find a way to go and see the world. Keep writing and keep it ablaze! There's no greater thing in this world than knowing that you can be lost in words. :)

Please let me know who you are, dear daffodil. Xx This has made my day. Know that you have warmed my soul like only a book and my favourite tea can do. Thank you for everything. May life throw many smiles your way. X