{ in }

haven't had many words lately. not many i wanted to internet-ize, anyway.

but it's 8:25am, i've already had 17 inane questions from my boss,

my eyes have the "morning-after-crying" puff, and i'm feeling chatty.

good luck.

first of all, i want this fishtail.

(at tory burch via 9to5chic)

secondly, things i've observed that are "in" right now and (my take on them):

1. wedge sneakers (want)
2. dry shampoo (intimidated)
3. #nyfw (#woulddie)
4. bb cream and now cc cream (curious)
5. style bloggers w/ photog boyfriends/husbands (thoroughly envious)
6. gone girl by gillian flynn (mesmerized)
7. instagram (i am an instacrack baby)
8. bold lips (hesitant)
9. lobster rolls (never had one)
10. WANEGBT (if you don't know already, don't bother)

now you're all going to google #10, and when you do, you're going to roll your eyes/groan/hate yourself/hate me for making you find out. i'm just saying, i already know. so you don't need to leave me any huff in the comments. you know, for all you rampant commenters. 

thirdly,

life is hard.

life is harder for some and easier for others and there's all sorts of relativity and subsequent guilt (and subsequent further difficulty, because we allllll know the only thing better than feeling badly about something is making yourself feel badly about feeling badly about it)(i need to find new emotional hobbies) involved with acknowledging and verbalizing that life feels hard. and maybe that's the right way to say it --- life feels hard --- because then the subjectivity of life and its events and our perceptions of everything, well, it's all implied.

life feels hard.

in a way i feel like the girl who is an aspen grove, and someone pierced the first original tree, and all the ghostly beautiful trunks are hollowing out and dying. and i'm watching it all happen, thinking, but i am the girl whose soul is stately and gorgeous enough to house the earth's most profound mysteries and it's perplexing and incredibly tragic. most tragic of all are my feelings of helplessness as the parchment of my stately soul flakes off, cast away by the winds of events i can't control. i've always been able to stand through anything on the endless tide of determination ellipsing (that's not a word, but now it is) through my being. only i've been moored on a wet slappy sandbar for what feels like years. where is my sea, i'm asking. i can't live this way, all the salt in my eyes and none at my feet.

i barely know what i'm saying anymore.

or maybe i do, maybe i know exactly what i see and what i have to do. and all of it scares the marrow of my bones, so i'm hunched over hugging my knees wishing some unearthly prince would come and bear me away on the wings of a perfectly orchestrated dawn. wishing i looked as pretty as the girls in the movies, distressed, blinking through their desolation and completely unaware that they're about to be rescued. 

what i do know is that i have to stay in this.

i can't go to some other dreamplace where the edges of all these jagged things are blurry and each frame is full of bokeh and you can see the sun rays slanting down on effortlessly tousled bedsheets, couture gowns, hair. i can't escape from how i feel, how life feels, from life itself. i mean, i could, but i can't want to. because i sense that now is a VFIT (VeryFuckingImportantTime) for me to commit to myself, to be on my own side, to stand up disheveled and declare that i am not leaving myself and things will get better and good is on its way and i will live as if i really do believe that and i am in. i am in i am in i am in.