crystalline
internal nebula
{ bjork }
all the layers and textures of life, hanging in one cosmic closet. it's enough to make you close your eyes in surrender just to feel it all, in hopes of not missing a thing . . .
it strikes me that in my own closet, some of the colors and textiles coordinate well, almost effortlessly. others work together only after i forge a new combination. and others seem to never work, outcast pieces that can only be worn a certain way on certain days. still others war with one another, refusing to collaborate. sometimes the smoother pieces get wrinkled and scratched by the ones with more personality...
i feel like the pieces of my life are catching on each other, a loose thread there grabbing hold of a collar here, a sleeve, a hem. it all feels so rough and messy. i don't know how to order things so they don't rip and flaw each other. i want all the tectonics to get along down to their faultlines, no jarring and certainly no conflict foundational enough to register at the surface. but that's not how life (or a closet) is.
even though i've known for a long time that it's the imperfections of life that keep things interesting (and growing), it's still difficult to accept sometimes.
she
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