i do wish i had given myself more time
I give myself permission to fuse myself with other women, but I do wish I had given myself more time. There were scraps of colored paper, impossible dreams, and an ease of excitement for the littlest of things. There was make-pretend that got replaced by survival instincts — a replacement so swift that the difference in weight went unnoticed until I was running for my life. Where does imagination go? Why has mine been only superficial in my mind? A fraudulent attempt to write lyrics to a song that has already been sung, or to use a fairy on a book cover to draw a friend. A misinterpretation of the ability to lead with the need to be liked. My skills went unexplored as I assumed I was not a special enough person for them to exist.
So, instead, I gently placed a piece of paper over every aspect of my life, see-through only if you look at it through the specific shade of blue in my eyes. What I have traced in my past years congeals into indecipherable scribbles on a page; even in my very own mind, a single line of my own creativity does not appear. I fear I don’t know how to find what I enjoy: YouTube tutorials on 3x speed, just remember to outline everything in red, white, and blue; soon this Western idea will become you. I soak up better ink and learn to hate my own, how could I write something worthy of the silhouette that holds truth in mine alone? The transparent paper has now been replaced with one that is sweet shore blue. I only wrote on colored paper when I was a girl, but then again, I don’t know if that's true.
For a while, height unified maturity with my young age, but I do wish I had given myself more time. I am at the botanical gardens in San Franscisoco’s Golden Gate Park. I hear the distant company of children, their small voices passing through the redwoods adjacent to my bench. It is there that I witness three little girls become bunnies, specks of matter under the towering trees. They hunt for berries and disappear into the bushes — I’m not sure what sound bunnies make, but the ink in my journal reveals that it sounds like a giggle.
That's all I got, I think? Hmmm..
Anyways, I hope you have a good day,
-Hope Joy
The brain to the blog <3
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