It's been a wacky few days, yes indeedy do.
She was radiant (terribly quiet though), beautiful words were said by some drastically ugly people, the flowers were...a little tacky and several guests got food poisoning from the buffet but all in all it was a honourable send off for the old girl.
[...]
I've had this defence mechanism as long as I can comfortably remember - whenever life gets a little too real and I'm being repeatedly assaulted with grown up concerns like essay deadlines, future employment, failed relationships or debt repayments - I'll latch on to fiction.
For most people the escapism would stop there.
Read trash for a few days, watch movies, purposefully imbibe anything that belongs to the three major, student nutritional groups; sugar, booze or drugs and then toddle off and pick up your old life.
Not me.
You see, I'm a natural born runner. When the shit hits the fan I'll be first out the room before you can shout 'But this Versace suit is dry clean only!'.
When I was little I didn't have the luxury of social autonomy, there was no 'picking up a bag 'and simply skipping cities, instead I would lose myself playing some extreme version of world view dress-up.
I would read, watch, listen, absorb - I've always been driven by visuals so a book brings me as much mental aesthetic pleasure as any film - eventually I would temporarily become an adaptation of the character with whom I was fixated.
It's typical childhood logic - no more me, no more problem.
My personal lines between fantasy and reality have been blurred from birth, couple this with being raised to understand one truth; 'If you believe your own bullshit, others will too' and you have the perfect aligning of nature and nurture to produce a human walk-in-wardrobe of personalities.
[Changing yourself is far easier than changing the world...or something like that.]
There have been many tear-stained pillows over the last few years when I eventually realised I had no solid concept of who I was when this began, there's no way of knowing how I would have turned out if Elise Hadgraft had lived past her terrible two's and to a certain extent I don't think I want to.
This eccentricity has made me a particularly tricky person to love, to be around for any sustained length of time and more importantly to gain any concrete understanding of. Even my Mooma eventually gave up, smiled, nodded, patted me on the head and left me to get on with it.
Yet, ever the optimist, I like to think of my quirks as a two..um three...um actually *insert suitable number here* for one deal - you'll certainly never get bored when you wake up next to somebody new every few months.
Unfortunately very few people are willing to see the benefit of this as I get older, there expecting me to shake it off like any other 'kidulthood' phase and rejoin the land of the 100% certifiably sane at any moment.
That's never going to happen.
It might alter slightly, become less pronounced or I'll begin to lose myself in more mature characters...hey, one or two honourable traits might eventually rub off but right now, right now I just want to hold on to the last bit of innocence I have left.
When I'm allowed to roam outside my preassigned box, the Universe becomes my fairground but it's no fun if I have nobody to play with.
Annie.
<3
She was radiant (terribly quiet though), beautiful words were said by some drastically ugly people, the flowers were...a little tacky and several guests got food poisoning from the buffet but all in all it was a honourable send off for the old girl.
[...]
I've had this defence mechanism as long as I can comfortably remember - whenever life gets a little too real and I'm being repeatedly assaulted with grown up concerns like essay deadlines, future employment, failed relationships or debt repayments - I'll latch on to fiction.
For most people the escapism would stop there.
Read trash for a few days, watch movies, purposefully imbibe anything that belongs to the three major, student nutritional groups; sugar, booze or drugs and then toddle off and pick up your old life.
Not me.
You see, I'm a natural born runner. When the shit hits the fan I'll be first out the room before you can shout 'But this Versace suit is dry clean only!'.
When I was little I didn't have the luxury of social autonomy, there was no 'picking up a bag 'and simply skipping cities, instead I would lose myself playing some extreme version of world view dress-up.
I would read, watch, listen, absorb - I've always been driven by visuals so a book brings me as much mental aesthetic pleasure as any film - eventually I would temporarily become an adaptation of the character with whom I was fixated.
It's typical childhood logic - no more me, no more problem.
My personal lines between fantasy and reality have been blurred from birth, couple this with being raised to understand one truth; 'If you believe your own bullshit, others will too' and you have the perfect aligning of nature and nurture to produce a human walk-in-wardrobe of personalities.
[Changing yourself is far easier than changing the world...or something like that.]
There have been many tear-stained pillows over the last few years when I eventually realised I had no solid concept of who I was when this began, there's no way of knowing how I would have turned out if Elise Hadgraft had lived past her terrible two's and to a certain extent I don't think I want to.
This eccentricity has made me a particularly tricky person to love, to be around for any sustained length of time and more importantly to gain any concrete understanding of. Even my Mooma eventually gave up, smiled, nodded, patted me on the head and left me to get on with it.
Yet, ever the optimist, I like to think of my quirks as a two..um three...um actually *insert suitable number here* for one deal - you'll certainly never get bored when you wake up next to somebody new every few months.
Unfortunately very few people are willing to see the benefit of this as I get older, there expecting me to shake it off like any other 'kidulthood' phase and rejoin the land of the 100% certifiably sane at any moment.
That's never going to happen.
It might alter slightly, become less pronounced or I'll begin to lose myself in more mature characters...hey, one or two honourable traits might eventually rub off but right now, right now I just want to hold on to the last bit of innocence I have left.
When I'm allowed to roam outside my preassigned box, the Universe becomes my fairground but it's no fun if I have nobody to play with.
Annie.
<3
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