Up In Smoke.
SomeoneLikeYou Monday, February 8, 2016
Gray Lace Dress (very similar & so beautiful!): Forever21.
Pearls (similar): Gift from my grandmother.
Black Bow Flats(similar,just $32!): Thrifted.
Raspberry Beret (similar): Thrifted.
Miniature Vera Bradley Quilted Purse(similar): Thrifted.
The last days of January passed swiftly and now we're well into February. My life has been quietly content lately consisting of a steady rhythm of class, work, and homework. I've still been snapping blog photos (the photography aspect has always been my favorite part), but have been uninspired to post. A little afraid to post, actually.
All four of my classes are writing intensive senior level courses. Between them, I feel like my head is spinning continuously around grammar and leads and citations and newsworthiness. Writing a single sentence anymore exhausts me because my writing has become so stripped. It no longer exists for inspiration, but conformity. In a sense, it is good. I've found that my writing sucks, to be honest. Everything I've learned about up to this point seems to be wrong, and it embarrasses me to look at anything I've written before this past semester. My professors are fine tuning me to write concise, brief, and clear. In part, it's what I need to grow as a writer. It still feels like the joy in writing has been sucked out of me and replaced with stark formality. Every hobby has a transition period though where it is tough to abandon old way, however, the end result is well worth the trials.
Last night I couldn't sleep. It was one of those nights when you're trying to calm your thoughts, but they end up becoming a swirling, angry wasp nest when disturbed. It sounds annoyingly over-the-top, but sometimes I can't bare the thought of not making it to New York. I miss it with such fervor that I am simply unable to explain how I feel. If I even tried, it would seem like I was a twelve-year old girl expressing her undying love for Harry Styles. I feel that desperate and out of touch sometimes. It is a dependency I've never experienced about anything in my life. My passion both scares and excites me.
It sounds crazy, and even my overly sensible character enters panic at the thought, but I may just move to New York without a job. I'm in the process of applying to places and I know that is is so early yet. (Too early really for anyone to consider hiring me). I am prepared though to still pursue a life out there even if I am not able to secure a job. The logistics in my mind of this desperate dream go off the charts...but I feel as though if I don't get there now: I never will.
With much love, Lauren.