It got me thinking about how much I've changed over the last few years, or haven't, I suppose. Sometimes I wish I could talk to myself as a protective guardian from the future. First off I think 15 year old me would chew me out for getting jealous of my friend going to the Ke$ha concert, and being able to identify with the longing for an "excuse to dress like a whore and be covered in glitter".
After that, we'd talk seriously about some decisions in her life and I would urge her to rid herself of some dead weight. Most importantly, I'd reassure her that everything will work out.
Feeling like a part of me has died is rather disconcerting, considering she was the whimsical and irrepressibly free spirited component of my psyche that radiated contagious joy. There's been a bit of a battle royale waging between parts of my brain for a while now, a most viscous cycle of self doubt and loathing only to lead to more trouble for no real reason.
It was only while flailing through the alleyways of Gastown in the wee hours of the morning when I realized that like it or not, I'm the same random girl I've always been. I often hide how marvellous I think the world is because cynicism is an easy form of humour that helps sensitive people avoid being hurt or disappointed because no one takes them seriously.
Maybe this is where I evolve into my all-encompassing adult stage?
(my baby tee has long necks on it)I think Cali Swag District said it best, "now you just do you, and Ima do me", "All my bitches love it, you ain't fuckin' with my dougie".