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flaccidbones
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read my profile
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Name: jamie.
Gender: Female
Interests: reading.
indie indie indie.
caesar salad.
brit rock.
shoe obsession.
nude colours.
sequins.
gold gold gold.
sushi addiction.
red rouge lipstick.
cupcakes.
chanel / ysl.
photobooths.
messy hair.
innocence.
the sunrise.
black nail polish.
having faith.
big cities bright lights.
hugs.
knitwear.
bones.
good literature.
late nights.
dance floors.
oversized.
knowing everything will be ok.
Message: message me
Member Since:
11/18/2009
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Run, little legs.
Catch the butterflies while you can.
The world from your eye level
Can never be the seen the same way
After each tomorrow you let pass.
Smile, little legs.
With your teeth shy and shaky,
The dimples carved into your smooth skin.
For it does not do to be sad:
There is a long amount of time to
Ponder when you are older.
Chase the shadows under the street lamps,
Be not careful of what fork you use,
Or if your fingers get sticky eating your peanut butter sandwich.
Wear mismatched clothes, sing in the shower,
Make silly faces and never, ever, worry about anything.
Follow the stream of fish in the spring,
Admire how they glide through water without a destination.
Look up to the swallows in the vast sky that
Will seem to swallow you whole.
How they can soar, high into the clouds,
Forgetting their cares with a spread of the wings.
Little legs,
Be who you are.
Find yourself in the chaotic ocean of souls.
Find yours, and keep it close to your heart.
// - notes from my moleskin, 1.1 | | |
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All of a sudden, I was 13 again, an awkward spectacled girl with too straight hair and a shy smile. I was back to the last week of grade 8, the part when classes were just a formality and we often spent it watching DVDs and playing mindless games. It was a tradition in our school that we go to the coolest, biggest, and the only water theme park in Shanghai every year, on the last day of school, a simple occasion that symbolized the end of a year and the beginning of summer. I've heard so much about it throughout the year; remnants of memories from previous years, and "Remember when's" before explosions of laughter. When consent forms were given out that day, I remember my hands trembling in excitement.
Things were easy then. Because no matter if you wear a bikini so tiny they only cover the important bits, or if you really didn't look that good in a swimsuit at all; no one judged you, because at the end of the day we all were just a bunch of thirteen year olds. The biggest dilemma then was whether or not to wear a sexy swimsuit, and if we did, how to avoid the tan lines so our mothers wouldn't find out. Tips on how to prevent a nipple slip were crucial, and because the water park was so big, we even devised routes to walk so we'd coincidentally bump into our crushes. I had the time of my life, that day.
See... Life was easy then. If you had given me the same situation now, I'd have started exercising a month ahead, cut carbo completely from my diet, shave - everywhere, make sure I have waterproof makeup, and go out of my way to purchase a swimsuit I know I'd look good in.
When I was thirteen, all I wanted to do was to grow up. But now, when I'm eighteen, ... I wish I was still a kid. I'm not sure when things started changing. Is it when you wake up one day and decide to drink coffee in the morning, instead of milk? Is it when you start feeling uncomfortable hugging your dad for a split second too long? When it's finally okay for you to stay up a little more past your bed time? I'm not sure what the tell tale signs of growing up are. We keep telling ourselves, "Life's hard." Because, we are all, in fact, fragile little things. When we fuck up, there isn't anyone left to give us a time-out in the corner, then give us a hug and a lollipop and everything is okay again. Growing up meant losing the people you love, failing, and running away because you can't face yourself.
"What's the worst thing that could happen?" The answers to this question morph from molehills into mountains.
We tear ourselves apart because we no longer fit the bill, because there is now an ebbing feeling of not being good enough, one that comes and goes like the waves of an ocean, sometimes coming back stronger and more forceful than before. Like a cancer that spreads; you try to counter it, but one day... Perhaps, without you even realizing, you find that it has consumed you completely.
But, sometimes I lie in bed and let my eyelids close and embrace the night, and I remember that things don't have to be this hard. Things could be easy. People make things hard for themselves, the moonlight whispers, a gentle reminder as she dances past my white laced curtains and into my room.
And suddenly, I am thirteen again.
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If you had asked me if I was sad about it... I'd have said no.
Why be sad over something you cannot change? Why be sad when it's long gone, never looking back? Why cry over spilt milk?
We clung to each other so tightly through this sandstorm, that when we finally let go, the imprints of our fingernails were etched on our skins. We tried to get rid of them. We tried waiting, we tried fighting fire with fire; dousing the marks with the touch of others, and, even our own. But nothing works. The memories haunt you, even when you don't notice; "See, how I got this bruise?" We wear our scars proudly; like a warrior after a victorious battle. Eventually, we come to a point when we realize we miss the comfort, we miss the times when there was no aching hole between us. So we try again; and... it works, strangely enough. In those fleeting moments, everything seemed to piece itself back together. But just as easily, and just as quickly, it fell apart. We realize that we are no longer the same people we started out with; and through the wear and tear of life, it molds us into completely different people.
And that was simply what it was; it was what we were. I have learnt to accept that we are like the two sides of a coin, like two opposites of the earth, like two travelers going in different directions. You can say it is because you love me that you have let me go; I can say that it is because we no longer love each other that I have let you go. But even then, it all boils down to the differences we once loved each other for. Then, it became the ones we pretended didn't exist. And eventually, we crack, because no one can pretend for that long.
Like perpendicular lines, we met. And it was good, it was everything I had ever wanted.
But, now, it is time for us to part. | | |
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I have never, in my life, cried so much in a movie. Especially because the credits started rolling... Thank you, Harry Potter, for the comfort I could envelop in, for softening the blow of my fall, like a safety net. Thank you for being my escape when reality served me a plate of things I didn't want but had to face anyway. Thank you, for the lessons of love, truth, loss, courage, and the darkness that, try as we might, cannot be explained. Thank you for Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Draco, Neville, and Luna. Thank you, JK Rowling. Thank you for magic.
It will never be over for me.
Whether you come back by film or by page, Hogwarts will always be there to welcome you home. | | |
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the past three months have been a whirlwind of emotions; sad and happy, excited, lost and confused.
mostly sad, though.
people that i never thought would leave walked out without so much of a backward glance. conversations stop, feelings disappear, stiff embraces. feeling inadequate all the time, and letting yourself get used to carrying a heavy heart to bed every night. things weren't just going downhill, but instead, for no apparent reason at all, everything was falling apart.
but it seems, as jk rowling put it: happiness can always be found, if one only remembers to turn on the light. you know why it's hard to be happy? because it's hard to let go of the things that make you sad.
i've let go. of you, of the demons in my past, of the whispers that haunt the quiet night.
because i've learnt... at the end of the day, the things we lose do have a way of coming back to us, after all. | | |
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