01. new year. same me.

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hello 2017,

your mailbox must by full. don’t worry. this is not a new year’s resolution. a statement of what i hope to improve upon. an amount or measurement of time, money, or weight. this is just me. the same me, ready for hikes of self exploration. additional decisions. imaginative growth. and much more content. (i hope to have daily videos this week!) just me. swaying to some 45 degree breeze and that famous tourist gaze. all witnessing a girl posing in public flower beds. also sneezing after twenty minutes in a park and suddenly wondering if maybe possibly she is allergic to said plants. *false alarm* just me. sitting in the leaves with this vintage jumpsuit and loafers from the frequented goodwill. not much has changed. and to the calendar replaced with an updated arrangement of numbers… it’s nice to meet you.

xoxo,

mute style

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Fauna and Freedom

my book of dead and dying things. maybe i should write your name amongst the petals and leaves. the pressure of ink and synonyms for brooding. thinking. remembering. the placid whisper of northbound breeze. the sleeping fauna. the grasses teasing my knees. my shoulders master the weight of a week. weak. the kind of stem that bends with the strain of romanticizing. harder to overcome than the pressure against my hipbone. sit an interval. delay. blink the mounds of rock dust. swallow the scene. Continue reading

The Wind

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the sluggishness of the past week was colored by coffee shops, Bob Dylan, and writing one-sided love on the moon. comfort in lies she knew. her snug spilled milk sheets at noon. a song remaining in her mind. she was not a singer. but when she decided to sing, she bled Pocahontas colors of the wind. she escaped the sorrow that others rested upon her, a lacking of mutual awareness. she held the truth between her ticketed lips; love is not the jealously or entitlement that comes from a desperation for love in return. for her, one-sided love is fair. Continue reading

Pink Cheeks

 

I was blissfully nostalgic when I returned home for the weekend and found myself outside.  I climbed into the recently repurposed fort swinging like a monkey. My hair in my face, wind rustling the leaves, full on jungle girl. I mean things were so ah, wonderful. But my mind was clogged and my pink cheeks flushed.

The thought of someone finding me with my legs jutting from the rafters pulled me to the reality of a wall calendar announcing that another birthday had passed.

Embarrassment.

A silly concept bouncing around in our minds that blocks true joy. I should be inside watching the latest celebrity gossip. I should be sipping mimosas and reading poetry to find relaxation. I should be testing out eye creams and age defying vitamins. Oh my, why limit myself? I could have simply wandered to the backyard and reminisced, but something within me activated and sang, “You are still young!”  The plywood and lounge chairs can attest to my smile. The art of living with appreciation. The things and people we allow into our lives should be celebrated with the upmost enthusiasm; same with the choices we make unflinchingly.

People grow up embarrassed by the braces glued to their teeth, their favorite striped socks and sandals combo, for admitting to love “Twilight” or enjoying a splash of hot sauce with their veggies. Instead be proud!

Hanging upside down, I felt free. Pursing happiness is currently an act of defiance in our society. Well, call me a rebel.

Chat Latter,

Mute Style

p.s. Here is my weekly vlog! I had the joy of discovering some wonderful independent publications Grunge ‘n’ Art and The Messy Heads. Reading up on positivity and creativity shaping the lives of others, echoes all that I strive for on this blog. It makes me happy to see others sending a good message. Also notable, my senior thesis presentation went well. I turned 22. And I later took a nap in the same fort I called my play palace. Hope everyone has had a lovely Monday.