Bye old me, I’ll miss you a lot.

I was browsing the web today, and once again I fell into a hole where I envied everyone who seemed to know themselves. I don’t have great fashion taste, as a matter of a fact, I don’t think I have fashion taste at all. I’m one of those self conscious roamers who don’t entirely know their place in this world if I could say honestly. It did inspire me to reach into myself and see how fashion could best reflect me though.

After envying everyone, I watched some quotes compilations on Youtube, in order to help reach into the feelings I was going through. I never expected it, but I read this quote which says, “Want to know what people are afraid to lose, look into what they photograph”. This quote caused a flashback when I was in my final year of high school last year, and I explored the theme of adolescence for my art folio. I’ve always been so astounded by the motions of youth, the reckless ease, the obliviousness yet the urge to explore. It’s incongruent. I’ve captured youth, written about youth whilst I had still been able to feel it. I guess I realised that I wanted to capture it so much before I’d ever have to face losing it. Some part of me was aware that it only lasted temporarily, so I documented everything associated with it.

Over the past two days, I’ve been missing school, missing the reckless days where I thought life was hard and never understood me. Life isn’t hard now, but it’s harder. High school gave me the perfect excuse to be hopelessly in love, to pour my heart out into books, and fantasise about fictional characters, delve into essays and books, create life out of every moment. High school was the excuse to be young and free, happy and sad, a dichotomy of feeling, whether it is confinement and emancipation. I look at the boy I once loved, how he is and I realise I’d never be able to like someone like that ever again. It was only precious and enchanting because it was innocent. Life for me in high school was completely innocent, protecting me from the reality. I could capture him in all of his entirety, talk to the moon late at night and sing songs about him, but now there is a veil that blocks the person who I used to be, versus the person I am now becoming.

You see, whilst I was behind the veil, I desperately wanted to be free of it, yet now I am free of it, I wish I cherished the time I experienced in it a bit more.

There is this thing called responsibility now that covets the innocence that had once existed. I’m still getting used to it, and I will eventually get used to it.

It was just nice honestly. To once be able to feel. And feel completely.

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