what if he stayed? what if i left?
As a millennial, I feel it is my duty to be dramatic. Constantly wondering and woefully curious. Posing questions that perhaps should not be answered. Despite knowing fully well I shouldn't, I still nonetheless. And with these questions, always start the same.
What if?
"she took the midnight train, going anywhere."
No, she took the Piccadilly Line to SoHo.
She makes her way through the busy London streets. A rugsack over her shoulder and headscarf wrapped quickly. Always with a cup of coffee in one hand, the other pushing her glasses up. Dresses for the wet weather but forgets about the puddles. Heels always soaked by the end of the day. This is the life chosen and the life lived.
The small town girl lives a big city life. Hoping she won't shatter like the big city dreams.
She makes her way through the busy London streets. A rugsack over her shoulder and headscarf wrapped quickly. Always with a cup of coffee in one hand, the other pushing her glasses up. Dresses for the wet weather but forgets about the puddles. Heels always soaked by the end of the day. This is the life chosen and the life lived.
The small town girl lives a big city life. Hoping she won't shatter like the big city dreams.
"i don't seek lovers. i seek muses."
- every pretentious prick ever
More specifically, the pretentious prick in a red scarf.
Falling in love is a fickle thing. One that I cannot describe so easily. Many young writers have written novels about love, romance and its in-betweens. They express their love of love in ways the brain may be able to seek. These writes know love. I am not one of them.
Instead, I sit on my bed. Behind my board and books, and just talk about love. And why falling out of love is okay.
Yet still not enough.
It has almost been a year since the first edition. I featured three passages from a book literally titled 'Words In Books I'll Never Write.' I've switched books since then.
My best friend gifted a cardboard-covered book, with my favourite quote printed in gold. I squealed and told her I loved it. I keep all my slices there, filling it in whenever inspiration strikes. After a year, I decided to write up another post.
Here is another page from words in books i'll never write.
My best friend gifted a cardboard-covered book, with my favourite quote printed in gold. I squealed and told her I loved it. I keep all my slices there, filling it in whenever inspiration strikes. After a year, I decided to write up another post.
Here is another page from words in books i'll never write.
it has been three weeks since I went to
london fashion week
London itself is a hectic city. London, during Fashion Week, is another kind of hectic. Beautiful people wearing precise makeup, clothes picked meticulously. I could only watch in awe, my heart beating and mouth agape.
It is exciting to watch the week unfold onscreen. To watch it in real life is exhilarating. The outfits I wore was only a fraction of my week in London. The week was spent going from show to show, all across London. Worried I might forgot about every detail, I did what any sane person would do.
I filmed it.
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