Which led me to this:
"I am aware that my idea of "being an adult," is skewed. I am aware that I will never, probably ever, be comfortable with making plans two weeks in advance and not being tempted to break them. Or, having to answer to authority. Or remember which bills I paid on time. Or having a well balanced fridge. Lucky Charms? Modelo? Broccoli? Marinara? Almond butter? Done. I am aware that I will have to work around my "imperfections," but that it also makes me keen on improvising and that, just like Truth I rise under pressure.
I am aware that I could use some work in the laundry department. That my friends are better at sending gift baskets than I'll ever be. That I go cross eyed when you talk about numbers and that I fear my relationship with money is a long road.... but one I don't want to admit, out of fear that it will keep me from embracing it. I am aware that at the core of everything, I'm actually a performer. That I'm happiest on stage. Or in front of a camera. Or a microphone. That I'm afraid I'll be chained to a chair forever and ever while my Gypsy implodes. I'm aware that I am fearful of imploding.
That I kind of have a temper. That I'm terrible at not getting my way. (that I usually find a way to get ' my way' and that, that particular conquest drives to the edge of insanity.)
That my two things are; love and significance. That when I'm in love my need to feel "significant" lessens, to the point of extinction. That there's a reason one was taken from me. That these two things need to find a way to live beside one another, eventually. I am aware that I like to fucking GO THERE, let's get our hands dirty. Bullshit meter, on high.
That sometimes self awareness is a rabbit hole. Which makes me weirdly insecure. That I want to lift people's consciousness, but that starts with lifting my own first. Through art. Through words. Through action."
I immediately think how odd it is that she wrote about me since, you know, we don't know each other. Then, how odd that we must be so similar. And then, the truth: we are truly all connected, all going through the same things in different ways with different words at different points in our lives. We are all learning what makes us tick, what beautiful imperfections live within us and how those things affect and change the world around us. We are balancing out our relationship with ourselves with our relationships with others and crossing all of our fingers, twisting them up in hopes that it will all somehow work out to be so that we can have both kinds because, oh my god, we need both.
People often ask me why I read (and write) blogs, what's the point of reading about someone's life who you don't even know? I read blogs because somewhere across the country, there is a girl about my age, pursuing about the same things as I am, going through about the same things I am and sometimes there is nothing more divine then knowing you are not alone. I read them because my brain works in strange, deep, intense, artsy, "different" ways and sometimes I need to be reminded that there are people like me and that we all have moments of every kind and some people are brave enough to put them out for the world to see. I guess, also, because it reminds me that it's okay to put all of my moments out for the world to see.
I get thoughts from people about my blog more than I anticipate (mainly because I figure no one except the same 10 people are reading it). Lots of beautiful thoughts from friends and strangers alike, but there is a common theme to these messages where they say "they could never" blog because they aren't brave enough or interesting enough and I guess the whole point of this post is to remind you that we are all connected, we are all the same and you are absolutely brave and interesting enough to do whatever the fuck you want. Whenever you want, however you want (um, you know, provided it's not like horrific crimes or something). You are important enough already, exactly as you are, to live the life you want to be living. Whether you choose to write about it for all of the internets to see, well, that's up to you, but either way don't count yourself out when you're counting up the people who inspire you. Those people are connected to you, they are exactly like you. I am exactly like you. And imagine the glory that could come with that thinking: that none of us are better than the other, but instead, all equally beautiful, messy, growing, learning, living, deserving creatures.