is it looking in a mirror if the person in the reflection has bangs and you don't ?? let's see

When I realized I had a blog still active somewhere on the internet I clicked on the warp button that brought me through a wormhole and splatted me back in 2013. I looked at an image of myself with baby soft skin and greasy bangs and a red bowtie. I remember having the sniffles and preparing for the Doctor Who 50th anniversary showing in Victor that I was going to. My nose was crusted over with dry skin and mucus and it resembled the bowtie around my neck that had been procured for a jazz dance segment that I once wiggled my way through when I was eleven. Long story short: I was shocked back to my older days.

I wanted to start writing again because I enjoy journaling but I get wooed by the colorful aesthetics of other peoples blogs. My heart is tugged on by beautiful themes and enticing editorials. So I thought that maybe I should get back into it- no pressure, just me writing things for my own enjoyment. But when I saw that old post and soaked in that bowtie and crusty nostrils it nearly sucked me dry of all enthusiasm like a plum turning into a prune ready to help somebody get good and loosened up. Gross.
But yet here I am; underwhelmed by Googles ugly child that they keep in the closet (Blogger) and pushing forward. My best friend Sam just asked me what I would write about and I replied

uhh anything

I just got done scouring Man Repeller- a beautiful blog dedicated to fashion and lifestyle. It's beautiful to read these women's posts on the outfits they're too scared to wear but want to, horoscopes for the month of July, and  "3 outfits for going out that are anything but basic". My mother and I love to skip through the dialogue and look at the pictures, but I was caught by the whisper of something romantic in the way the women used multiple exclamation points (!!!!!!!!) and the freedom of which they pour their feelings out in the most personal and enticing way. What really got me was this: they are personal and heartfelt and genuine but clean cut and stylish. Their writings are the mess you see in beautiful homes filled with art and rugs you wish you had. It inspired me and it hasn't been the first inspiring moment that's come my way in the way of writing. A few nights ago I was lying sideways on my boyfriend's mattress, swaddled in a comforter, studying his journal entry about his trip (from last year) to Utah with his family. It was an emotional roller coaster and I fell in love with the way that he wrote. It was an unhappy affair full of disappointment and airport hatred and I was fully engaged. This was after I had read another entry that told about his day at a park with his family. He wrote of family dynamics and natural beauty as if he had been writing within the womb. It was fluid and engulfed your being- you were the silent but welcomed viewer perched in a tree as he and his father walked through the trails or a ladybug clinging to the back of his shirt collar somehow hearing his thoughts through the tin-can-string telephone he was offering you. 

Anyways, what I'm saying is I have been thinking about writing again. I don't know where this will go, I'm probably gonna write this and forget about it. But at least I wrote it.