Call Me Tin Man
Well hi….
Stop looking at me like that– I know… it’s been a while.
My presence online has dwindled. Maybe because I’m happy.
I went abroad and fell back in love with life and started believing in God at 22 years old
I felt heartbreak for the first time- but only because I felt love first. Proudly.
I became an adult, live in NYC alone, work in fashion, and have an income
I have built myself a structure that allows me to have freedom– and it is sick
I get lonely. More often than I'd like to admit. I bought a book. It's called Fruit Fly, in case you're curious.
I am tired. All. The.Time.
There are a number of you I think about when I write by the way. I am not sure if that is a good or bad thing. I think of ___ when he came up to me at that dj set party and told me to be more controversial in my blogs because why the fuck not (if only you could see what never gets posted). I think of ___ because I wonder what she would say if she knew I spew online. I wonder how much of a risk I take doing this. I do wonder- but I do also really not gaf. I wonder if my grandma understands any of my contemporary cultural references. Like gaf. I wonder a lot of things but I no longer have the time to wonder. I miss being creative.
Sometimes I miss the versions of myself that had fewer responsibilities and significantly worse ideas. But I like having my shit together more. Turns out stability has its own kind of high. Which is honestly annoying because I thought having your shit together sounded boring.
I want a dog. Specifically, I want a long-haired wiener dog who gets all up in my space and refuses to leave me alone.
Unfortunately:
I cannot afford a dog.
I do not have time for a dog.
So I got a plant.
She's doing well. What should I name her?
There is also someone I don't talk to anymore who I suspect is reading this. I considered writing something profound here. I have nothing. Hi.
Also yes… I am single. Well well well. I don't think I'm ready to be loved again yet—or maybe I'm not ready for the responsibility of loving someone properly. I have things to learn. But I really did love being in love. I just don’t think it is in the cards for me right now. Right now there are other things asking to be built.
So why am I back here writing? Because I missed you, but I missed me more. Does that make sense? I don’t know. Whatever.
I think some parts of me got a little rusty while I was busy building all the other ones. Consider this me oiling the joints.
I'll try not to disappear again.
No promises.
Xx,
Sofia
