Beauty in the Breakdown

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Sweater: Sweater Shoppe in Ireland
Socks: Urban Outfitters
Combat Boots: Charlotte Russe
Backpack: Nike Arcadia Invitational Backpack

This week has been a week of meltdowns (which is why I'm wearing a simple+comfy large sweater and thigh-high socks outfit inspired by Rihanna in her What's My Name music vid yes I am wearing spandex underneath). Stress. Tears. Lack of sleep. So much to do and so very little time. In these moments of feeling so completely overwhelmed and helpless, I am thankful for my friends. I am thankful for the hug during the breakdown. I am thankful for the I believe in you. I am thankful for that silly story about my one friend singing to Taylor Swift for 7+ hours whilst driving to Pittsburgh for a med school interview. The image of him dancing and singing to 22 in his rented car for hours and hours broke my clouds of anxiety into bubbles of laughter. I think during periods of darkness, we are all prone to hiding in shells away from humanity in attempts to fight the problem on our own. But I advise you to reach out. You don't even have to explain. Simply letting those around you into your life by spending a few minutes away from the mess can do wonders to your perspective. I actually bumped into a former professor in Au Bon Pain the other day and I told him how Girls, as much as I absolutely love that show, was like a horror story to me because it perfectly encapsulates the 20-something-year-old life I do not want to live. He laughed and said, "It certainly is a horror story for people your age isn't it? The thing about you and your peers is, you guys think you have to have it all figured out by the time you graduate. But you don't. Everyone knows that. It's just you guys who don't. Avoid falling into the senior freakout because figuring out where you belong involves a circuitous path and you'll get there. You're too talented and smart not to." 

Now I'm telling myself this as much as I'm writing it for all you readers out in virtual space, but breathe. Realize that this scramble is beautiful. Take the time to laugh with your friends or cry with your friends. Remember that everyone is going through their own battles, so they understand. You are not alone. Don't pull a Hannah Horvath in the Season 2 finale of Girls and hole up in your room. Let your Adam pick you up and tell you that he/she/they are here. And most importantly, enjoy this journey. I know it's cliche, but if you're so preoccupied with the destination, one day you'll blink and wonder where your life went. The road is life. 

To those of you going through rough patches, you can get through this. I send out a virtual hug and I hope you'll let the ones who love you give you a real hug. 

To my friends that picked me up when I was down, thank you for being the beautiful people you all are, thank you for the words of encouragement, thank you for understanding, thank you for the hugs. Thank you for being there. 

Now let's hightail out of that Oprah session and onto the lighter aspects of life: 

Music 

1) Clarity (Moseqar Remix) I can't help but giggle every time I hear this song because when I was living in London, the boys next door overplayed it to the max. They were all going to a Zedd concert and super amped, but it seemed like the only song they knew was Clarity because it was the ONLY song by Zedd they played. And they literally played it 24/7. Regardless, I have a soft spot in my heart for this little musical piece. The lyrics are filled with that glittery pathos-filled language I am a complete sucker for.  

2) Nobody Knows (Moseqar)


And here is a short piece of poetryprose I wrote recently. It's actually not the voice I use in the poems I turn in because I try to avoid using pretty language when I write for class since us experimental poets are forging a new path in the poetry world and departing from fluffy Romantic vernacular. As I wrote above, however, twinkling words make me weak at the knees, so sometimes, sometimes, I run back into the arms of the star-filled atmosphere of the heart and soul. This piece is about first love (angst) because I have a proclivity for squeezing romance between an unidentified I and you. I'm fascinated by how question mark pronouns draw in readers based on the fact that either the I or you could be them. Now let the cliches rain: 

I still remember sprawling on the front steps of your house talking about the blues and yellows and oranges that filled our heads with everything between soaring kites and the ground below. Your neighbor would smoke indoors and watch us through feather fingers. She watched us scream beneath scattered stars. She watched me tell you I hated you. She watched me change my mind. She watched you grin because you knew I could never escape. She watched the sun and the moon dance around us until we grew too old for the town. Then she said, "L'amour ne vous appartient pas voir." How we laughed! You see, the wall crashed in a collision of eyelashes, so we thought in eternities. We didn't expect homes to grow and vanish with the miles spent in new landscapes. A dust-filled terrain in the east of somewhere and a gray-colored sky in the middle of nowhere. Apocryphal whispers broke the circle long ago. Yet, in the stillness between raindrops I sit. Holding my breath until the blood beats fill my veins with the silence you used to occupy. I guess I'm still hoping for the sand we drew in. I guess I'm still hoping she was wrong. 

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xx