Fall on your tongue like pixie dust just think happy thoughts.
I used to dress very punk-rock, to reflect my inner-self. I was all tattoos and wild hair colors and spikes and leather and chains and plaid and faded concert T-shirts. I hardly ever wore make-up, and if I did, it was usually black eyeliner and/or some kind of very sparkly eyeshadow in a very dark shade of purple or something. Today, I found and got rid of the last of that wardrobe (except for the tattoos, of course). It's hard to describe what it was like to throw away the wallet chain, bracelets, collar, and boots that I wore every day for years. It was almost like throwing away a part of myself. The boots especially. I had them for a long time, but I look at them now, and I see that they almost have no sole and that the leather is worn through at the toes. I never noticed that before. No wonder my feet always ached in those things. My friends used to call them the "shit kickers." They've got a three-inch platform and they lace up the front about halfway up my calf. And I did, on occasion, kick people with them. Especially at concerts.
Someone once told me that you change so much between the ages of 18 and 25 that you really have no idea who you are from day-to-day, hour-to-hour and then one day, you wake up and you're 26 and adulthood hits you like a ton of bricks and something inside you shifts, like there's been an earthquake, and suddenly, all those jagged edges fall into place to become something like a puzzle put into place. Of course, there are still some pieces missing and maybe a couple of pieces were fit in wrong, but the basic template is there and you have something to work with from that day forward. That's how I feel.
So even though I'm sad to be throwing/giving away this stuff, another part of me is happy to do it. The part of me that needed that is still there, it's just shifted into something with smoother edges. Into something that's not going to cut me into pieces and have me wind up strapped down in some hospital bed.
Someone once told me that you change so much between the ages of 18 and 25 that you really have no idea who you are from day-to-day, hour-to-hour and then one day, you wake up and you're 26 and adulthood hits you like a ton of bricks and something inside you shifts, like there's been an earthquake, and suddenly, all those jagged edges fall into place to become something like a puzzle put into place. Of course, there are still some pieces missing and maybe a couple of pieces were fit in wrong, but the basic template is there and you have something to work with from that day forward. That's how I feel.
So even though I'm sad to be throwing/giving away this stuff, another part of me is happy to do it. The part of me that needed that is still there, it's just shifted into something with smoother edges. Into something that's not going to cut me into pieces and have me wind up strapped down in some hospital bed.