Tuesday, 13 May 2014

Lana Is My Spirit Animal

My life has taken a very bizarre turn from my younger years. Being more self-aware and more aware of other people has made my life a lot less dramatic. It means I have a substantially reduced stockpile of regrets to keep me up at night.


My life, as it always has been, is a movie playing in my head. There is a big part of me that would happily live in a Lana Del Rey music video, bitch just gets me.
But I know that is dangerous.

My younger years were filled with trailer-trash glamour and crazy-romantic encounters. Even now, my memories play like a Nicholas Sparks novel. I'm not sure how to explain this or why it bothers me. I can lose myself in the 'episodes', I can get lost in the movie playing inside my head.

I am a pathological, sentimental romantic. From the hazy days of my youth, in cornfields and streams with my band of miscreants or my many loves, to my drunken 20s where I was the lovable 'party girl' who never had to be alone because there was always someone to distract me. I lived my life as someone that other people saw me as, I played a role to almost everyone. I loved with my whole being.

It was beautiful and tragic. It imprisoned me and liberated me. This life is everything and nothing all at the same time. It is as inconsequential and as important as anything could ever be. 

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