Sooner or later in the holidays I would love to chill in a warm bath and feel my skin ache with the burning of hot water along with a cheap pore mask bought from the local shopping mart, but since our tub is used as a temporary storage for excess shampoo it looks like I won't be enjoying such peacefully scenery. Candles lit first thing in the morning as well as a solid hour and a half of typing furiously in bed with my laptop will have to do instead. I don't even need to walk as far as the kitchen for my morning cup of coffee at that time of that day- freedom from caffeine addiction and clear sight at six in the morning is very welcome after a long and gruelling semester.
After running in mornings with my father after an hour or so, my limbs would always be cursed with an intolerable itchy feeling and impulse to scratch my skin raw. I would liken it to skin crawling insects surrounding you with their tiny biting mouths or acidic insides causing horrible irritation, but the experience is less picturesque than this monochrome illustration and more embarrassing. Having cause to scratch like a maniac when attacked by insects is one thing, but if it's after a mild run at half-pace then you do tend to look a tad strange and with questionable behaviour.
Of all the joys of being in a relationship, what I adore most is that feeling of warmth when smothered with kisses and the gentle feeling of wet saliva left freshly on your forehead after a tender kiss. My boyfriend is the apple of my eye and by far the greatest motivator to push through multiple shifts at work as well as the university workload I bare on my shoulders for weeks on end. We don't have many cute couple photographs together and just barely talk to each other when I'm underneath my study but I still have someone who is so close to my own personality and values yet different on the outset. I know he would take his jumper off for me to have when it's cold, pick up the bill at dinner and other chivalrous tasks if need be and that still impresses a girl riddled with feminist values.
Farmers harvest the best looking fruits, vegetables and produce in order to source an income and support their families but I wonder just how easily I can pursue a career as a geologist and study the mechanisms of this strange Earth of ours. I've been enticed with the promise of strong careers in my country as well as the beauty of natural minerals. My older brother was the one to keep a collection of rocks in his sock drawer throughout childhood but I've finally cottoned on to the structure and depth of colour of gemstones, as well as their popular use in jewellery with gypsy like appeal.
My mother has a habit of collecting what she considers to be large, chunky and beautiful glass jars from jams and coffee and stores them in our cupboards for no real reason other than hope that they'll become convenient in the future. I enjoy my strawberry flavoured girl drinks on rare occasions such as dinner with friends and leaving the dungeon of my house with many computers, but maybe a little home cooking would do me good. I've chosen the worse possible season for this sudden change in character, while the strawberry plant in my front year was prospering some weeks ago, it's died back again for Winter.
It's been a bit of a weight but these last few days I've enjoyed the gorgeous weight and pressing gravity of my boyfriend's bony body against mine and also the warmth of his skin. In high school I was very much the bitter little girl that everyone thinks very little of and pays small attention to and hoped that I could live and die happily without reliance on someone else to make me happy. While being a hermit doesn't sound like a promising thought for someone at the age of fourteen, I was so stubborn to admit that anyone else could make me happy and was unwilling to understand human emotions other than my own misery. It's when you don't try to find someone perfect for you that you realise how wonderful a friend is and they become so much more, the apple of your eye and the delight of your heart.
Tavi Gevinson never fails to deliver a stunning array of vintage goodness and she does have many admirers based online and bold enough to venture into the real world. Here's a small insight into her world and universe of home made cards and drawings from some of her admirers; while I have been delighted from recent emails and online attention for my blog I guess I'll only be satisfied when my reputation is equal to that of my hero and aesthetic taste is as well developed and unique as hers. With this goal in mind, I do want to become like her but don't mimic her style as I don't gain anything and fail to challenge any of the pre-determined rules of fashion shows and outfits.
As much as I am forbidden to tattoo myself or even get my second ear piercings done, I still fantasise about all the wonderful designs that other people have committed themselves to for the rest of their days- it's shallow to admire them entirely based on aesthetic and not have a story behind it but there's not much to tell in my life really. I don't have bizarre dreams in which I am violently bitten to death by wolves and then decide to have one tattooed on my bicep; grateful and renewed with the feeling of being born all over again. Nothing grabs me, holds on to me with such a profound feeling really and I'm not religious so that's ruled out as well. I absolutely oppose when racist Caucasian people get something written in Chinese though- that pisses me off to no end.
As much as it pains me to limit my spending and purchase of wonderful items off of eBay as well as selling things I bought during the weird/ awkward transition stage during high school, my thoughts are firmly fixated on the cherry blossoms of Japan along with convincing my mother that it is a cultural wonderland for me and will fulfil my fashion aspirations. She however has already been to the land of the rising sun and wants to go to Hong Kong, known worldwide for its food. I have been working hard and exercising four times a week in two hour blocks for the last month or two and it seems ironic to go on an eating expedition with my hard earned cash. I have a funny feeling that this Sunday will be spent bickering in front of a travel agent and feuding over next year's holiday location in the city.