bonnie & clyde

Passenger's seat, cruising down the west side. Eyes behind shades, I'm a soldier for you. Let's take a walk on the wild side. A little adventure never hurt anybody. We'll do it old school, Bonnie & Clyde style. She was summer: an eternally forgiving season of light, of love. Magnetic, electric. You forget who you are when you fall in love. And after her, summers were never the same.

The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, 

or into the air all around him. 

She had become a physical necessity. 

-George Orwell

shirt: forever 21

shorts: urban outfitters

belt: ralph lauren

bracelets: H&M

shoes: BGD

hat: ASOS

sunnies: ray-ban

finding home

Walks home in the dewy morning. Skipping along the line between tempting and potentially dangerous. Everything about her was spring: refreshing and new; my Indian summer after months of cold. We found solace in the nomadic lifestyle, drifting from city to city; driven by curiosity, successful through serendipity. Trains and buses and cars full of strangers, but we somehow always ended up near the ocean. Star child, mother earth. She gave me a feeling of what I'd always been missing. 

I always spent my dimes on the jukebox instead of the pay phone. My mama never worried about me. If she had the chance, she said, she'd do the same. Jesus on the dashboard, map in hand, his hand in mine. If we weren't leaving, we were always on our way. Empty hotel sheets, afternoons on crooked porches, half-empty bottles of gin. Our time together was a sleepy summer dream that I never really woke up from. 

Summer hats, freckled skin, midnight Vespa rides down dirt roads. After a while, you get used to the salty air and sleeping on other people's couches. I knew that if I didn't leave then, I'd never get out. Life is an act of letting go. In our search for a place to call home, I think, ultimately, we found it in each other.

all at once

"We're heartbreakers," she whispered, "that's what we do. We break people's hearts." And maybe she was right, in retrospect. But me, the brave, entitled young man I was, trusting that the universe would play along and that the stars were destined to align, thought that I could change her, that I could make her love me back.

There was a way about it, something I can't explain. I fell in love the way you fall asleep: slowly, then all at once. It's something that choses you, something that makes her eyes shine and our fingers spark and the air between us so electric. Her red dress. My nervous heartbeat. The humid summer wind against our open palms. "Honey, I'm on fire," she said, "nothing scares me anymore."

You always think it's going to work out, that you're the one to defy the odds. But she was leaving and I was staying and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. I wanted to know, so badly, so I asked the question and let the words hang where they may, trusting that it was strong enough, that she maybe felt it too.

"Do you love me?"

In her hesitation, I found my answer.

"If people were rain, I was drizzle 

and she was a hurricane."

stars

Cherry princess; island queen; I forgot what it was like to not get what I want. It's all just affection until you add weight. There's a big difference between loving someone and loving the attention they give you. It took me a long time to realize that.

Play along, make my dream world, amuse me, if only for the night. I warned you when I told you my dreams were kaleidoscopes, and I hope you see that now. Forget reality: crawl into the rabbit whole and just tell me you're mine. Black magic, black hearts, is there really any difference?

She was magic, he was magic, they could have really been something if the timing was right. But, like all consolations: the darker the sky, the brighter the shine. And in the end, the darkness swallowed them both whole.

I can draw the line on the first date,

I don't have to exist outside of this place

you're all chrome

They don't want my love, they just want my potential. I used to have it all, until I couldn't help but burn it to the ground. It wasn't anything personal, I just liked the way the flames looked. My therapist told me that's a problem of mine: doing things for the sole purpose of amusement. "You're reckless," he said to me, "nothing more dangerous than a rebel without a cause."

I wanted to be the object of your affection, but I had trouble misbehaving. I can dress it up like a good girl, but I always slip when the nights get wild. Long hair, short dress, leather jacket. As much as I tried to hide it, I think you could tell that I had a wild side.

I just wanted it all: the money and the fame and the freedom and the fun and the love and the excitement and the potential. No one told me it couldn't be done, so it had to be done. I almost gave it all up for you, but I fell in love with myself instead. People should do that more: chose themselves.

It's your palace; your kingdom; your fairytale; burn it down, paint it black, and make everyday your birthday. Nobody can tell you otherwise.

Human's aren't entitled to happy endings; 

you must create your own.

navy like the sea

I'm in love with this Prabal Gurung skirt for Target that I recently bought. I'm by no means a skirt person, but there's something so ladylike about tights and a high-waisted skirt that makes me feel like tying a bow in my hair, boarding a train, and falling in love. And now that my hair's finally long enough to do so, I just might . . .

t-shirt / H&M

skirt / Prabal Gurung for Target

tights / H&M

boots / ASOS

sunglasses / RayBan

hat / Chapel

instagramania

what a whirlwind it's been! 

started the year with my family in canada & I couldn't have asked for a better time.

there was so much love/fun/dancing/mischief that was created that I already knew boarding the flight home was the hardest thing I'd do all year. 

I'm surviving the winter doldrums, figuring out ways to deal with these winter blues/anxiety by channeling them into something productive. 

I hope you all are staying warm this winter, I'll see you after hibernation. 

xo, m