I met a gal the other day that made me realize that. My gosh she is full of life, exuberant, carefree, and all at the ripe age of 21. I loved getting to know her, and coming to see her perspective on the big city she lived in and loved, and the smaller one she had grown up in. I so admired the courage and confidence she had as we spoke about our current endeavors and dreams of the future.

We met on the underground, I with my suitcase in tow, and her dressed like she had invented the style “y2k.” Head to toe, such a riot. She offered me the seat next to her, and I complimented her outfit. After some chats, she told me that she’s in uni, and “into fashion right now.” I gestured to her amazing outfit and questioned the “right now” bit of that statement. She laughed and divulged into a story of the first fashion show she through. What was intended to be a smaller showcase of her uni’s designers ended up being quite the hit. While there, she was asked to do another show in another country! I exploded in excitement for her, and she was so humble by saying that it’s the UK, so the neighboring country is NBD. Still though, I was thrilled for her.

Listening to her felt like learning the formative years of someone deep in the industry. Whether it was her vivacious tone against the soft rumble of the underground, or maybe she really has “it” only the future can tell. But I for one believe it’s the latter.

We agreed to grab drinks later on in Camden Lock. Immediately after leaving the train station and just a short walk away, I was immersed in what felt like a cradled pocket of the city. There were no cars in sight. Just narrow, stone laid streets and plenty of people. Some were hooting and hollering at their team’s first win in 22 years (Go Arsenal!) others were shopping at curated street style stores, more perched along the bridge and enjoying the view of Regent’s Canal. It was a buzzing Saturday evening. We stopped for drinks in a vaulted pub we found with the cheapest drinks. I ordered a champagne and took in the scenery.

While we sipped, we chatted more about what London has to offer, how Camden is cool but Central (mention of “downtown” here will get you a peculiar face) is even better, which I noted for next time. Still though, I loved it. I loved the new scenery, the people, and as we were walking more, she saw a Western themed bar and said she’d love to go in. I couldn’t help but chuckle since daisy dukes and cowboy hats is a lot of what I had just seen while in Arizona, U.S.A. We shuffled in anyway, and into the crowd of people dancing

.

The glitter, the sequins, the tinted shades were all lustrous under the magenta lights of the dance floor. The perfect pitch (in both music, and lighting) to dance. Before long I could feel my skin start to glisten with sweat and just the slightest intoxication. We danced together and tossed smiles to everyone around, until a dance line pulled us in and led us up the stairs in the club.

There we got into some conversation about dating, and how she’s open to anything right now. I asked if there was anyone she might want to talk to before we go, and she told me that it was too scary to approach someone! Right then I was blasted back to 21, and I remembered YES, it IS scary to approach someone. I just smiled and said to do whatever she’s comfy with.

We continued to dance and I smiled to myself as I realized that at some point in the last few years I had grown out of that fear. Not in any active way, but it slowly stopped feeling terrifying to me to start the conversation, to connect, to be seen.

I guess that’s why she’s come to mind, because I started a Tumblr blog to host all of my unkempt and sporadic thoughts but why? Why not here? I’ve grown out of the fear of being seen in real life, and surely that must extend to being seen online, right? But maybe being seen in my writing, my passion, is something doubly scary. Even meeting in real life, there is still the guise of a first impression, and things left unsaid. But here, there’s nothing left unsaid and that’s the point. This is where I go to put everything that was left unsaid out there.

So again, the fear. But instead of letting that slowly slide off my back, I think I’ll actively try to fight this fear, and just go for it. Expose myself, my thoughts, and just see what happens.

xo,

A.

Because it is succulent, ravaging, enticing, excruciating, tempestuous, tantalizing, filled with endless possibilities that at times make it feel endless. But that, it is not. The one thing life is not is infinite. Maybe I’m in my own bubble and have come to the wrong conclusion that so many people seem to live as if it will not all end. But it will.

But that Memento Mori is what makes it all the more pleasurable. W that said, my love letter to life says mainly one thing: Thank you. Oh how grateful I am to be experiencing this life, and all that comes with it.

In my personal little life experience, love is at the top of the bucket list. Love in all its forms.

This is my first post here of hopefully many. It is intentionally raw, unedited, and carefree. It’s a bit undone but what’s “done” anyway?

xo,

A