(no subject)
There's this clothing line called Apple Bottoms and I swear they're ripping off, or trying to rip off the Louis Vuitton logo.
I took a minsicule trip to Prague to visit my family. It's been months since I've seen my family anyways. They're not very large (in quantity), we're not one of those families that's the population of Alaska. But they're very European in the way that English is not their language. In every family there's the one person sees every angle in technicolour, and that person has always been me. I've always dreamt big, and I never had anyone there who understood that. Instead they would just pat me on the head, in that supportive way and tell me what a vivid imagination I had. I guess my vivid imagination is something I can't get away from, because I still dream big, in a heart beat, and I still stand out in some way.
I sort of felt like Jennifer Garner's character in 13 going on 30, when she's re-visiting her house and her childhood and you're suddenly feeling vulnerable again. I always wonder if I'm really too young for it all. Just existing as a whole. Most people my age would just exist to exist by not caring and not having to worry about the primary responsbilities, but I've taken everything by myself for the past two years. I'd feel weird if I didn't worry.
My father, who is tall and scary tells me, "If you were too young then you would have quit already." My mother, who resembles a soccer mom tells me, "This is always home for you and your room is always yours." My profession is always brought up and when I say I'm fine she thinks I'm hiding something. She's that kind of mother that worries about everything. She cried when I first went to Paris. And cried even more when I didn't show genuine concern. I was more excited than scared. Truth be told, I was never truly scared. Just freaked out a little. I wasn't meant to be scared. But everyone is scared of something. When someone says go, you yield. They took me to ride elephants in Africa when I was five and told me about the birds and the bees when I was ten. I like how in Africa everything is either colourful or big, like the elephants.
And there's my Aunt, who I'm probably more open with than anyone there. Her philosophy is "Have a cigarette, at least it'll understand you." I told her what I've been doing for the past year, down to the last word. It was one of those late night chats, when your voice sounds raspy and makes it seem like the conversation is more intimate. We talked in the dining room with a table that lopped awkwardly to once side, while we ate these vodka chocolate things and listening this song in this post over and over again. She said none of the details mattered, as long as you are happy. She said you even look happy, you glow. I am, I replied. When someone says you glow you know you've really done it in. She looks like a brunette version of me, except a little shorter and ten years older, with a kid.
She's hip though, knows English and is dating an Australian painter. Both live in Australia. He is not the father. That's a very modern appeal. I took her little girl after having a nightmare, put her in my lap and braided her hair, and the obscure feelings had passed. The thing with children is that you can love them with no closed pressure valve, it's just provided for them. When I left Prague, I felt enlightened. I saw my older sister too, whose enthusiasm reminds me of Betty Boop. She is responsible for getting me into this modelling mess.
I took a minsicule trip to Prague to visit my family. It's been months since I've seen my family anyways. They're not very large (in quantity), we're not one of those families that's the population of Alaska. But they're very European in the way that English is not their language. In every family there's the one person sees every angle in technicolour, and that person has always been me. I've always dreamt big, and I never had anyone there who understood that. Instead they would just pat me on the head, in that supportive way and tell me what a vivid imagination I had. I guess my vivid imagination is something I can't get away from, because I still dream big, in a heart beat, and I still stand out in some way.
I sort of felt like Jennifer Garner's character in 13 going on 30, when she's re-visiting her house and her childhood and you're suddenly feeling vulnerable again. I always wonder if I'm really too young for it all. Just existing as a whole. Most people my age would just exist to exist by not caring and not having to worry about the primary responsbilities, but I've taken everything by myself for the past two years. I'd feel weird if I didn't worry.
My father, who is tall and scary tells me, "If you were too young then you would have quit already." My mother, who resembles a soccer mom tells me, "This is always home for you and your room is always yours." My profession is always brought up and when I say I'm fine she thinks I'm hiding something. She's that kind of mother that worries about everything. She cried when I first went to Paris. And cried even more when I didn't show genuine concern. I was more excited than scared. Truth be told, I was never truly scared. Just freaked out a little. I wasn't meant to be scared. But everyone is scared of something. When someone says go, you yield. They took me to ride elephants in Africa when I was five and told me about the birds and the bees when I was ten. I like how in Africa everything is either colourful or big, like the elephants.
And there's my Aunt, who I'm probably more open with than anyone there. Her philosophy is "Have a cigarette, at least it'll understand you." I told her what I've been doing for the past year, down to the last word. It was one of those late night chats, when your voice sounds raspy and makes it seem like the conversation is more intimate. We talked in the dining room with a table that lopped awkwardly to once side, while we ate these vodka chocolate things and listening this song in this post over and over again. She said none of the details mattered, as long as you are happy. She said you even look happy, you glow. I am, I replied. When someone says you glow you know you've really done it in. She looks like a brunette version of me, except a little shorter and ten years older, with a kid.
She's hip though, knows English and is dating an Australian painter. Both live in Australia. He is not the father. That's a very modern appeal. I took her little girl after having a nightmare, put her in my lap and braided her hair, and the obscure feelings had passed. The thing with children is that you can love them with no closed pressure valve, it's just provided for them. When I left Prague, I felt enlightened. I saw my older sister too, whose enthusiasm reminds me of Betty Boop. She is responsible for getting me into this modelling mess.