Helium Balloons

Streetlights and Skylines

Streetlights and Skylines

Dear Friend,
Do you know what it is like to always be a misfit? I am a misfit. Some people told me to talk to people who are 'popular', but they intimidate me. Around them, I have to fake things and pretend in order to get them to like me. I don't want that. I want to be real and people to like me for that. I want to talk to people about beautiful books and beautiful films and beautiful music. Not things about the latest episode of One Tree Hill, or stuff about the latest fashion trend and the most 'happening' clubs in town. I want to revel in the glory of old music. I want to write lyrics over my skin and blemish it with words that matter. Things that matter need to be made a big deal of.. Otherwise we will be sucked into the black hole of a pretentious existence.

 You will be left dreaming of the rich flavor of cotton candy melting against your tongue over the bitter taste of Gin and Vodka accompanied by that burning sensation and that dreadful head ache the next day. And for what? Only to get closer to these pretentious people who live pretentious lives. It. Is. Ephemeral. It will all someday be nothing but a pile of ashes swept into the corner of the world. There is beauty in the way people silently smile at themselves. There is beauty in the way naturally curled eyelashes flutter with passion. It is lovely how a dew drop carefully settles on the surface of a bright green leaf on a cold, dull morning. It appears as if this drop of dew has decided to seek solace here. It has found home. There will come a time when this dew drop has melted away and the next morning, there'll be a new dew drop on the surface of the leaf. Somewhere right now, someone is crying over the loss of someone they considered to be their whole world. They say that everything is now insignificant, but things gain significance don't they? And time always heals you.

Friend, do you feel like you're running really fast and you're tired? That you know that your stamina is exhausting and you're not even sure if you're going in the right direction? I feel that way all the time and I feel like I want out now. Or I just want to go back to the time where being nice was the same as being popular. There was also a time when my mind was quiet. I went out dressed in pink leggings and frills. My cheeks were chubby and my hair was cut like a mushroom, but at that time, I felt beautiful. I want to feel that way again. I want to walk, fully aware of my purpose and feel like a million bucks. To. Feel. Worth. Something. Anything.

There was a time when calloused fingers were appreciated. Not perfectly manicured fingers resplendent with pastel-colored nail polish. That was also the time when my smile reached my eyes, but now, as a hint of a smile begins to show, it disappears again. My mind is very loud now. The sounds of my worthlessness reverberate through every fibre of my being. But, wait. I told you how things gain significance, didn't I? I learned that at the right time, with the right person, you can gain significance again. You can feel like a million bucks and feel worth again. You can look down at your converse with one-too-many holes in them and smile. Imperfection is beautiful.

There's a girl who stands on the gravelly pavement, with the blaring sounds of car horns and the way-too-strong smell of smog, staring at the street lights and the lights on buildings and everything that makes you wonder. There's a girl who suddenly feels that surge of happiness sweep through. And there's a girl who can look at random strangers and find stories within their eyes. That girl may feel like a penny, but she is a million bucks. That girl who can feel a lump in her throat but swallows back the tears. They say that people who are different are beautiful people. They are right. Some of us look at the world through wide pools of innocence and cry when we have been let down. Yes, we make mistakes, we can ruin something that had the potential to be something incredible. But, life has other opportunities waiting to be embraced. Those melt-on-the -tongue cotton candy type experiences are in abundance. Souls may be hidden in bodies which may not be perfect. Blemished skin. A way-too-curvy figure that many people consider fat. The soul, however is laughing at those undesirable critics. After all, the joke is on them.

I. Am. Beautiful.

You. Are. Beautiful.

We. Are. Beautiful.

You will feel that way once you begin to realize it.

Yours lovingly Xx