“Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I’m not living.”

Sep 27

All I’ve ever wanted (I think) is to have my creativity (idiosyncrasies) validated.

Such a pity, to know I require such validation (justify me).

But there must be a reason behind this thirst, beyond the first layer (ego).

Every so often, life breathes deeper into me and I get hooked on an idea–I’m electric (a real live wire), and for a moment, a day, sometimes months…I  thrive off of single words or thoughts or pictures or gestures. Every so often, although less frequent it seems…someone (usually the most unpredictable character) will spot the glitter that hides behind these eyes. And I think perhaps I’ve found my “in”. I’ve found my muse, or better yet, they’ve found me. And then like clockwork, I don’t know what happens (do I lose my sparkle, or do they lose their boredom?) but just as quickly as it’s all began, it’s finished.

I am just Katelyn. And I have to start all over. On the whole, “see, I’m worth it. Invest in me. I can show you things.”

It’s almost as if I was born to be a torrid Hollywood starlet, but missed one step or made a left turn instead of a right one, leaving me in some sort of egotistical limbo where self-validation and humility are constantly fighting against one another.

My greatest fear (lately, and these fears change like seasons) is that I’ll spend my whole life working harder than is even expected of me only to find myself stuck on the same rung of the ladder. And then not only will I be left completely non satiated, but also wondering what I gave up. What I consciously or subconsciously put on hold or missed out on, by constantly seeking validity. Where is the happy medium? Everyone says you can’t have it all. But why not? Why the hell can I not have a little of the best of both worlds?

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I cannot wait to get my new piano for Christmas. I miss this.

Sep 24

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Out on the edge you see all the kinds of things you can’t see from the center.

Sep 20

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Born this way.

Sep 14

Maybe it would have been cheaper to have gone straight to Hollywood, perhaps Broadway.

Maybe I’d actually make sense.

Or maybe, this is just all a big joke. Everybody dies and that is how the story ends. If you’re really lucky, maybe people remember you for a couple years or even decades.

Another day, another dollar. And we carry on. Keep calm, carry on.

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Crap weekend.

Sep 12

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