SHIRT: thrifted (similar: here)| TURTLENECK: c/o Voyeur Vintage| PANTS: American Apparel (similar: here, here, and here)| HAT: Urban Outfitters| SUNGLASSES: Gap| BOOTIES: Macy's| BACKPACK: c/o La Poule Noire
This right here is what I look like on my comfy days. The days that I don't really want to do much other than put on thick, fuzzy socks/ watch the snow fall in a lazy fashion/ read a library book that's already way overdue/ take a trip to the memories in my mind I hardly ever visit anymore/ and/or put my chin on my knees and just think about the state of things.
This week I've been in a bit of a pensive mood, which is easy to get into when the sun sets at 3 PM and you feel like you're Tolstoy himself brooding by the fireplace as the snow rages on outside. But instead of thinking about the tragedy of death as he would while swishing my brandy around in a snifter, I think about just how unclear everything still is. This thought sprung up after a friend asked me for advice on a sticky situation, and I thought it weird that I, the person who is the same age as her, would have a better handle or understanding of what the outcome should be. It seems that I still have the same understanding of the world I did when I was fourteen, which leads me to wonder if anyone ever really gets a good grasp on it?
I feel like I still have a laundry list of mistakes to get through until things start to become more clear, but I feel like that sentence is more hopeful than scary. What I mean by that is, do you ever get a really good story out of something that went perfectly well? Do you learn something shockingly knew about yourself when you did that one thing that was expected of you? Can you really say yes to life when you keep going down that same road you've been on since day one? Or is it more of a, "Yes I see you there life- just, just give me a minute here- I'll catch up with you...later."
I'm not saying throw all caution to the wind, but I am saying be brave enough not to want comfort. Want poetry, want discovery, want the road, want sinking feelings and uneasiness, want stars that don't- and won't- hide, want the long way home, want growth and disorientation, want all-nighters, want that one turn that'll get you lost, and want dreams materialized. Dreams don't have to be the jars you put your secret hopes into- make them into living, breathing things; into reality. Go for broke. And if you can afford not to, see why that's the most unkind thing you've done to yourself so far.
And with that I leave you with one of my favorite thoughts put into words:
“Let’s order too much of something just to see where our limits are. Let’s take a chance precisely because it might fail. Let’s take the hard way out. Let’s go to the moon. Fuck it; let’s go to the moon again. Let’s quit our jobs. Let’s work at being better at what we do by fucking up faster, not less. Let’s fuck up really fast. Let’s wrestle sharks, fight monsters, and disagree with the board. Let’s start a 10-hour drive by announcing “I’m not into you anymore.” Let’s start out to build a better mousetrap, and halfway there let’s decide to jump on the mice’s team.”― Mike Monteiro
Linking up with: What I Wore (Pleated Poppy), I Feel Pretty, What I Wore Wednesday (Tucker Up), Because Shanna Said So, Wednesday Style Connection, What I Wore to Work, Tres- Chic Fashion, All Things Thursday, Threefer Thursday, Look What I Got, Stylin in St. Louis
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