When I wake up in the morning I don't recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I truly think that's one of the best things that's ever happened to me.
The girl I look at now--with short, edgy hair, huge sunglasses, striking make up, pouting lips, and milk white skin--is an alien in my medicine cabinet reflection. Someone else grew up in that bathroom, I think, someone who didn't have any clavicles to speak of, someone who had a sun-kissed nose, small little pink eyes, and a sad, washed out look of transience on her face. When I look at the clavicles that glare up at me now, something about the situation compels me to brush my fingers casually over them, as though to nonchalantly scope out their reality. Every morning I wake up and realize that they are indeed apart of me--that I really do have bones there now instead of skin and fat and nothing.
It's amazing to me how things change.
The other day my mother gave me a little "autograph book" from my aunt's wedding cruise back in 1997, which she for some reason found inexplicably sentimental and subsequently kept in her closet for literally ten years. In it, there were a lot of little drawings I'd made while I was bored on the boat. For instance, my mother must have told me that our waiter was Turkish, because after he'd autographed his name on a yellow page for me, I drew him a big, fat Thanksgiving fowl and a pilgrim for his troubles. [The thing is, the only thing I remember about that cruise was the way I fell in love with the half-and-half cream they served in the morning with the coffee; I loved the taste of it so much (like melted ice cream, I thought) that I actually wanted to use it for my cereal in place of the usual milk. God, I loved that half-and-half. The thought of it disgusts me now.]
Anyway, I was like that as a kid, very friendly, but I always seemed to miss the point.
The point here is that I've moved from LiveJournal, secretly and privately, for the first time in several years. I don't know why I did it; partly, it's because I like the idea of a fresh start after so many spurts of change, I suppose. Also, I really like Vox in general.
I'm here because I have clavicles now and because I hate damaging my skin from the sun and because I have someone who loves me now, like no one ever did before.
Hello, Monday. What do you have in store?
on Stars - The Aspidistra Flies