Every day is exactly the same
Freshly 23. Five years ago, I would’ve thought my shit would be together by now. It’s not. I’m nowhere near where I want to be, but I am the msot positive I’ve been in a long time about my future. Working in fashion and continuing my love/hate relationship with it all. Passion project on the side, as well as my music and photography to keep me some sort of sane.
My beautiful nephew is almost 5 months old and he’s growing so fast. I still can’t believe how much joy this tiny creature brings to my life.
The only set back so far has been that we’ve had to delay our London plans. By at least a few months. Maybe more if the business takes off.
I’ve become a recluse, but not in any real sense of the word. If you’re not at every fashion wank scenester party around here then you’re a recluse. But I still go out, see my friends, enjoy the vino, etc. I guess it’s not enough for some.
And on and on and on it goes. Day in day out. I feel like a duck. Calm on the surface.. you know the fucking analogy.
A stupid situation involving my friends has recently escalated to a vicious level, which has left me hurt, but more than anything pushed me harder to get the hell out of here and away from these people who so badly want to be negative and full of hatred and jealousy and are childish and malicious and want nothing more than to destroy eachother.
Whatever. I am inarticulate after 2 bottles of wine and the smell of my own perfume is choking me.
Why don’t you break my nose like you threaten to do? Instead of fucking charging me like a fucking coward when my head is down and trying to spit on me. Nothin but a show pony.
Getting old seems to happen so suddenly.
Warning Comment