A lot has happened since the last time I came and vented. I crossed something off my bucket list, and published a tangible piece of work. I filled a room with loved ones, and gave them the first look at what many thought would be a bigger piece of work but was filled with enough to heal the hurting.
22, and I found myself, fetal position in the bathroom of my 9-4 job and I sobbed until it was time to get my shit together. Hell of a lunch break. I panicked because I doubted myself and whether self-publishing was even worth it. If I was even capable of doing it. Solely because once again there were printing issues, and late books. I do preach about letting those who’ve hurt you know that it’s not okay on here. That includes drafting a “THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE” email because you won’t be able to use pms as an excuse for your outburst when you head to pick them up.
I eventually want to go into detail about what this process was like for me, but I keep thinking about how many people the book has helped, and how many more people I want to have their hands on this book. So I splash cold water on my face, wash away the $200 worth of skin care products on my face (so so so painful to witness) and I walked straight to my laptop to write this.
I accomplished something Tuesday that I didn’t think was going to happen many times this last year. I graduated University, on time, and without falling on stage. I ran/hug towards a Professor that held the last English class I ever took, and was quite grateful for being the only English professor to know my name. This piece of paper, as expensive as it may be…means that I get to create now. I get to finally create without grades, and essays holding me back.
Because walking past those doors, to my own doorstep held just a brief reminder of the good in this world. It’s been keeping me sane these days, and away from the keyboard. It’s not that I don’t want to share, but it’s a lot more special to keep the good to yourself. It’s found in many things, my journal, my playlists, and it’s the remedy to a good nights rest. It makes your favourite songs sound better. Everything around you gets louder. I could see it, in a dark room only lit by a computer screen. I could hear it, amongst the silence beating against my cotton t-shirt. I could taste it, and the stars warned me against it. It found me unknowingly, feet first. I prayed for red lights on the way home, so I could feel it for just a little longer. But it’s not going anywhere.
When publishing something I worked on two years ago, I had a difficult time explaining the concept to people. Until I listened to Lorde’s song “Writer In The Dark” to which she says, “Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark” and I thought brilliant! That’s kind of what I wanted to say back then, that these were emotive musings that eventually would become an even bigger tale towards my journey of self-love, but warning those that woo the creatives. It’s very difficult my darling readers because to have everyone around you reading reflections from two years ago may attempt to drag you back to those moments, but we’re not going that way! In fact, we’ve waved enough white flags to find peace in the things that troubled us then. At the end of the day I just have to be better than who my 16 year old self thought I’d be at 22.
Heal yourself with the new SZA album, dance to Lorde’s Melodrama, and
To purchase “I’m Not Blue Anymore” head to https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/GirlInDiorGlasses?ref=seller-platform-mcnav