nothing is simple.
Not even a simple day. Not even a simple blonde girl, wandering the streets of Toronto with a lost expression on her face.
Not even buying new clothes, not even if someone else is paying for them.
When I asked my mom on advice over a clothing purchase she told me she would pay for it. She doesn't want me to freeze here. She is always very generous and protective about her youngest, only daughter, the baby of the family. I would say she spoils me, but I hate the word spoiled. When food goes rotten it is spoiled. My grandmother told me I was spoiled as a young girl. I hated to think of me, rotting away because people were too good to me. Being given too much for such a young thing.
I bought new comfortable stretch pants since my other black ones have turned to a shade of brown from too much wear. A small hole in the bum. And a warm hooded zip up to protect me from Toronto's strong icy winds, good for layering in chilly weather.
Together they cost a lot for such simple things. I keep hoping they're good enough. I look at myself wearing them. Leave. Go back to the mirror and look again. Are they good enough? Should I return them? They're for comfort and warmth, stop looking at them.
Simple things like this drive me crazy.
I've bought many things in this city. I'm glad I've been working for them, the cash coming out of my own pocket. I've bought the things I was always too cheap to buy. Over time I've bought a proper pair of running shoes, a winter jacket, good sunglasses (also necessary for wind protection), work clothes, jeans, a wok for stir fries. I've also updated my wardrobe through clothes swaps with other girls in residence, or dirt cheap items from thrift stores.
I sometimes wish I wasn't so attracted to beautiful things. I love beauty. Sometimes it's hard to determine vanity from beauty. When I spend time putting on make-up in the morning, I do it for confidence. Not for vanity or admiration. I like to feel good. To feel my face is beautiful. But is it vain and sad not to be able to venture out with a naked face? Sometimes it's just a bit of eyeliner, but shouldn't my bare eyes be enough?
Nothing is simple. Today was a simple day, no more classes, do some studying, buy a sweatshirt and stretch pants.
I started off oozing happiness and now I'm back to my typical frustration. And why the hell aren't I studying?
My room mate says I'm complicated. Even a simple looking girl may not be so simple. How could one be in a world that's anything but simple?
Not even buying new clothes, not even if someone else is paying for them.
When I asked my mom on advice over a clothing purchase she told me she would pay for it. She doesn't want me to freeze here. She is always very generous and protective about her youngest, only daughter, the baby of the family. I would say she spoils me, but I hate the word spoiled. When food goes rotten it is spoiled. My grandmother told me I was spoiled as a young girl. I hated to think of me, rotting away because people were too good to me. Being given too much for such a young thing.
I bought new comfortable stretch pants since my other black ones have turned to a shade of brown from too much wear. A small hole in the bum. And a warm hooded zip up to protect me from Toronto's strong icy winds, good for layering in chilly weather.
Together they cost a lot for such simple things. I keep hoping they're good enough. I look at myself wearing them. Leave. Go back to the mirror and look again. Are they good enough? Should I return them? They're for comfort and warmth, stop looking at them.
Simple things like this drive me crazy.
I've bought many things in this city. I'm glad I've been working for them, the cash coming out of my own pocket. I've bought the things I was always too cheap to buy. Over time I've bought a proper pair of running shoes, a winter jacket, good sunglasses (also necessary for wind protection), work clothes, jeans, a wok for stir fries. I've also updated my wardrobe through clothes swaps with other girls in residence, or dirt cheap items from thrift stores.
I sometimes wish I wasn't so attracted to beautiful things. I love beauty. Sometimes it's hard to determine vanity from beauty. When I spend time putting on make-up in the morning, I do it for confidence. Not for vanity or admiration. I like to feel good. To feel my face is beautiful. But is it vain and sad not to be able to venture out with a naked face? Sometimes it's just a bit of eyeliner, but shouldn't my bare eyes be enough?
Nothing is simple. Today was a simple day, no more classes, do some studying, buy a sweatshirt and stretch pants.
I started off oozing happiness and now I'm back to my typical frustration. And why the hell aren't I studying?
My room mate says I'm complicated. Even a simple looking girl may not be so simple. How could one be in a world that's anything but simple?
posted by Gillian Young at 7:01 PM
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